"He reshapes the world," I whispered, belligerent. "So his name implies. He stares strange-eyed at the… — John Gardner
"He reshapes the world," I whispered, belligerent. "So his name implies. He stares strange-eyed at the mindless world and turns dry sticks to gold."
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"Poor Grendel's had an accident," I whisper. ''"So may you all."
Grendel, Grendel! You make the world by whispers, second by second. Are you blind to that? Whether you make it a grave or garden of roses is not the point. Feel the wall: is it not hard? He smashes me against it. Hard, yes! Observe the hardness, write it down in careful runes. Now, sing of walls! Sing!
Terrible, he whispers. Terrible. He laughs and lets out fire.
