“‘That you must tell me.’
“‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a good child here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But there’s another world—not Shaping’s—and there all this is unknown, and another order of things reigns. That world we call Nothing—but it is not Nothing, but Something.’
“There was a pause.
“‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at growing and ungrowing organs?’
“‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the same story. I want to hear different stories.’
“‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in pulses?’
“‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had it from did not add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’
“‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that wisdom is misery.’
“‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own way.’
“Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, and shut my eyes.