Maidens withering on the stalk.

Yes, yes, mistress, I shall go and accomplish your task. Only—I was not only sent to kill the Leucrotta. There is a maiden in a tower—" At this the Witch spat, again rolling her marvelous eyes.

"Those revolting creatures are always getting themselves locked up. If only they would stay that way.

Ah! What is man? Wherefore does he why? Whence did he whence? Whither is he withering?

Her very frowns are fairer far, / Than smiles of other maidens are.

First the stalk - then the roots. First the need - then the means to satisfy that need. First the nucleus - then the elements needed for its growth.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.