And eyes of the heavenliest blue — that serene, Aprilish blue you find in periwinkle blossoms!

Since if we have seen reason to concede to Derrida that metaphor and non-philosophy lie beyond philosophy and are to metaphysics a metametaphysics...

Above, see those delicate threads of the purple amoret, with its flood of anthers that are nearly yellow; the snowy pyramids of the meadow-sweet, the green tresses of the wild oats, the slender plumes of the agrostis, which we call wind-ear; roseate hopes, decking love's earliest dream and standing forth against the gray surroundings.

To extraspect what is going on in people's minds bears various dissemblances from observing what is going on in the world of material objects.