If Tomas had ever had a last name, he did not know it. If had ever had a mother or a father, her did not know that either.
He only knew that he was a beggar
He knew how to stretch out his hand and ask.
Also he knew, without knowing how he knew, how to sing.
He knew how to construct a song out of the nothing of day-to-day life and how to sing that nothing into a song so beautiful that it could sustain the vision of a whole and better world.
—Kate DiCamillo, The Magician’s Elephant