Neelix: "I am tired of these jokes about my giant hand. The first such incident occurred in 1963 when my wife, on our honeymoon, quipped how that particular myth is not always true"
Neelix: ".....That day was composed of dawn, from one end to the other. All nature seemed to be having a holiday, and to be laughing. The flower-beds of Saint-Cloud perfumed the air; the breath of the Seine rustled the leaves vaguely; the branches gesticulated in the wind, bees pillaged the jasmines; a whole bohemia of butterflies swooped down upon the yarrow, the clover, and the sterile oats; in the august park of the King of France there was a pack of vagabonds, the birds. The four merry couples, mingled with the sun, the fields, the flowers, the trees, were resplendent..."
