"Why not? Nobody is doing anything with the world except
muddle about. Why not give it a direction? "
"You'd take it in your hands like clay?"
"Obdurate clay with a sort of recalcitrant, unintelligent
life of its own."
Her imagination glowed in her eyes and warmed her voice. "I
believe what you say is possible. If people dare."
"I am tired of following little motives that are like flames
that go out when you get to them. I am tired of seeing all
the world doing the same. I am tired of a world in which
there is nothing great but great disasters. Here is something
mankind can attempt, that we can attempt."
"And will? "
"I believe that as Mankind grows up this is the business Man
has to settle down to and will settle down to."
She considered that.
"I've been getting to believe something like this.
But-- . . . it frightens me. I suppose most of us have this
same sort of dread of taking too much upon ourselves."
"So we just live like pigs. Sensible little piggywiggys. I've
got a Committee full of that sort of thing. We live like
little modest pigs. And let the world go hang. And pride
ourselves upon our freedom from the sin of presumption.
"Not quite that!"
"Well! How do you put it?"
"We are afraid," she said. "It's too vast. We want bright
little lives of our own. "
"Exactly--sensible little piggy-wiggys."
"We have a right to life--and happiness.
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