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790 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1931
“Each man, after all, must do the thing that is right for himself, not the thing that other people say is right for him.” ~Part VI: Dream on, who can!
Homage of Flora, Allegory of Fertility painting by Jan Brueghel the Younger and Jan van Balen
“There is nothing wrong with me when I am god. I can feel the seed-corn sprouting now all over Marob. But that will come to an end, as it did with my father. I shall be killed, and parts of me will be eaten. They will perhaps be eaten by that queer little thing in your belly, Erif.’ He shivered and said: ‘Every year the corn springs again. It is cut down. The seed is stored. After the plowing it is thrown into the dark earth. The earth holds it, buried and forgotten. But it comes alive again. That is the game we play at harvest. But where does Tarrik come in? I am tired of playing the game for the corn, making it go on, the food of Marob, making Marob go on, but leaving myself out. And you. I leave you out. Women die. They die in childbirth, Erif. Often they die! Why must it always be the corn and never us? I want to play a different game.” ~Part III: What Advantageth it Me?
Three Spartan Boys Practising Archery painting by Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg
“Yes, mother, they’re lovely. But even if something’s going perhaps to start again with me—and I don’t see how it possibly can—Philylla is dead and I loved her and she was younger than me and so beautiful. And my first baby is dead too. Both those things are real, not just in my mind. Each of them is—a kataleptike phantasia. And an utter waste.” ~Part VIII: Death and Philylla