"Ah, the spoon, the perfect spoon!  In its mystic bowl all men are one, and so are all women.  Champagne and shoulders, poetry and long scarves, loftiness, altruism, souls, hard work, conscience, sacrifice, all fuse into perfect oneness in the spoon.  All Whitman’s Songs of Himself and Other People lie in the hollow of a spoon.  If you seek the Infinite and the Nirvana, look not to death nor the after-life, nor yet to pure abstraction: but into the hollow spoon.”
—D. H. Lawrence, Mr Noon