Joy bubbles on a fountain of doubt.

Elednor,' he said, 'Elednor, why have you betrayed me? Come back to me. Come back to were you belong. I alone need you.

You have a great heart, but will only find it to be so through great pain. This is the wisdom of love, and its doubtful gift. . . . I have endured much suffering and still remain unbitter and unclosed.

Not even I can see all ends, but I have been in this world long enough to know that a choice is not choice and breeds slow ills, even were it done for the highest reasons.

While the heart beats, hope lingers.

And all meet in singing, which braids together the different knowings into a wide and subtle music, the music of living.

I shall never complain of the tedium of the city again.