Hawaii?
For me its balmy airs
are always blowing, its
summer seas flashing in
the sun; the pulsing of its
surf is in my ear; I can see
its garlanded crags, its leaping
cascades, its plumy palms drowsing
by the shore, its remove summits floating like islands above the cloud-rack; I can feel the spirit of its woody solitudes, I hear the plashing of the brooks, in my nostrils still lives the breath of flowers that perished twenty years ago.
Mark Twain, a Biography