He knew that this creature, though imperfect, though a mere creature, a mere figment of his own creative power, was yet in a manner more real than himself. For beside this concrete splendor what was he but a mere abstract potency of creation? Moreover in another respect the thing that he had made was his superior, and his teacher.
For as he contemplated this the loveliest and subtlest of all his works with exultation, even with awe, its impact upon him changed him, clarifying and deepening his will.
︎︎︎ Mature Creating (p. 178)
︎︎︎ Mature Creating (p. 179)
︎︎︎ Mature Creating (p. 180)