"Give me miles and miles of mountains and I'll ask for the sea"

And so it finally happened, just as he said it would. The Beautiful Girl found herself alone in the desert, dying of thirst, searching for a cool drink of water; finding nothing but grains of sand and mountains. Mountains, mountains... roughly hewn, metamorphic, igneous, sediments of geologic time. Trapped and choking on the granitic indifference of impervious stone. Drowning in arid air with no path to the sea! Desperately she pushed her flaming tongue against the sharp shards of sand. The words swarmed around her brain with the force of prophecy: “Quod amo me delet.”