ms....

"Give me strength, Shane, for God's sake. Give me strength, or I die!"

And somewhere, out of something, some esoteric, where he had plucked
strength and given it to her, and he knew it wasn't from his body, or
from his mind, or his spirit even, he had given it. He had, from some
tremendous storehouse, got life for her, got peace, so that she
fluttered like a pigeon and sighed and grew calm.... And in that moment
he knew he was alive.

He tried to figure it to himself in terms of concrete things, and he
said: "If I were a racing-boat now, I would decide how to make a certain
buoy, and my mind would figure how to get there, what tack to make, the
exact moment of breaking out the spinnaker rounding the mark. Perhaps my
mind is nothing, something I use just now, as I use my body. For the
hand on the rudder is not I. It is something I am using to hold that
rudder. As I might lash it with a rope, if I were so minded. And my eyes
are just something I use. They are just like the indicators on the
stays; they and the indicators are one, to tell me how the wind shifts.
All that is not I. It is something I use. Perhaps even my mind is
something I use, as I use my hands. But somewhere, somewhere within me,
is I."

And a great sense of exaltation and wonder and dignity swept through
every fiber of him at the thought of this: new-born he was, clean as a
trout, naked as a knife, strong as the sea. He was one of the lords of
the kindly trees, masters of the pretty flowers: the little animals of
God were given him, it being known he would not abuse the gift.... And
though lightning should strike him yet he would not die, but put off his
body like a rent garment.... And though he were to meet the savage bear
in the forest, and have no means of conquering it, yet were he to become
aware of this entity of life in him, he would smile at the thought of
physical danger, and the great furry thing would recognize that dignity
and be abashed.... And there was no more wonder, or mystery, or fear,
only beauty.... The moon was not any more a mystery, but a place to be
trodden one day, were his place to be there.... And the furthest star
was no further than the further island on terrestrial seas; one day he
would reach that star, somehow, as now he could the furthest island with
head and hand.... Though death should smite his body he would not die.

Section 4

A strange thing was this, that Granya had always known this life. It was