There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly
than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves
the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one.
Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest,
sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark
and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world
stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought
at the cost of great pain . . .

- C. McCullough, The Thorn Birds