I have a Durandal to hew the mountain walls; I have a voice for ears, a net for butterflies, a hook for fish, and desperation to plunge into marshes: but the feu follet will not be caught.

One must wait--wait till her desire to have a soul bids her come to us.

She has come! A soul is hers: and see how, instantly, the old monster, the world, which has no soul--not yet: we are helping it to get one--becomes a shadow, powerless to stop or overawe.

For I do give you a soul, think as you will of it.

I give you strength to realize, courage to act.