The speed of him was like the ostrich, and his size was an elephant's; his hair was like pure gold and the brightness of his eyes, like gold that is liquid in the furnace. He was more terrible than the Flaming Mountain of Lagour, and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world, even as the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert.
Then I fell at his feet and thought, Surely this is the hour of death, for the lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days, and not him.
C.S. Lewis
