I wrote a story once--a very bad one--about some merchants--why merchants I don't know--who were flung on a desert island.

It was all jungle and desolation, and then suddenly they came upon a little white Temple.

It doesn't matter what happened afterwards.

I've myself forgotten most of it, but I remember that the sailors used the Temple in different ways to keep their hopes and expectations alive.

Their expectations that one day a ship would come and save them ...