“Never,” said he, as he ground his teeth, “never was anything at
once so frail and so indomitable.  A mere reed she feels in my
hand!”  (And he shook me with the force of his hold.)  ”I could bend
her with my finger and thumb:  and what good would it do if I bent,
if I uptore, if I crushed her?  Consider that eye:  consider the
resolute, wild, free thing looking out of it, defying me, with more
than courage—with a stern triumph.  Whatever I do with its cage, I
cannot get at it—the savage, beautiful creature!  If I tear, if I
rend the slight prison, my outrage will only let the captive loose.
Conqueror I might be of the house; but the inmate would escape to
heaven before I could call myself possessor of its clay dwelling-
place.  And it is you, spirit—with will and energy, and virtue and
purity—that I want:  not alone your brittle frame.  Of yourself you
could come with soft flight and nestle against my heart, if you
would:  seized against your will, you will elude the grasp like an
essence—you will vanish ere I inhale your fragrance.”

1 year ago  /  65 notes