"The effect of that whole great stairway innundated by a river of plaster majestically pouring down was most startling, and in spite of my fear I was forced to stop and admire this sight, which I mentally compared with something as epic as the burning of Rome, though on a smaller scale. Just as I was about to leave the inner courtyard of the school, I ran into a model called El Segoviano (because he was from Segovia), coming in the opposite direction. As he saw the approaching avalanche of plaster he raised his arms to heaven. 'What in God's name is that?' he exclaimed in his burly peasant voice. At this a little spark of humour flashed through my brain. Going over to him I whisper in his ear, 'At least it can't possibly be all milk!'"

Salvador Dali, My Secret Life