Oh, Life, I am yours. Whatever it is you want of me, I am ready to give.

He was able to love them again, but he loved them now in a wiser way, knowing their weakness.

Why did the world go on being so beautiful in spite of the ugliness he had experienced? The lake was beautiful, serenely beautiful. The forest was beautiful, greenly beautiful. Lake and forest, the whole shimmering...

Why had he wanted to be rich, or to feel rich? Was he an unhappy mouse before? Didn’t he see the King himself often looking sad? Was anyone completely happy?

I wish I were a rock,’ he said, and he became a rock.

The world was all magic, and he had a special bottle of it in his right hand.