In my father’s farbrengens (chassidic gatherings) of bygone days, every word is a pearl. As time goes by, one comes nearer to an understanding of an old vort, a memorable dictum from long ago, and it becomes clear and luminous in quite a novel way. Each word warms one, and gives him a sense of wellbeing. Then when one ponders over it, he does not feel so lonely.

On the physical plane, we see that if a person owns a number of individual pearls, they may well be valuable merchandise — but they are, after all, only individual pearls. If, however, these selfsame pearls are threaded together in a certain order, then even though there is nothing new in the pearls themselves, their beauty is now of quite a different kind. They light up their entire surroundings, and around them is created a purer air.

Likkutei Dibburim, Vol. 1, p. 82