Quote by George MacDonald

“They grew weary, and sat down on the rocky floor, for wait they would — indeed, wait they must. Each set his lamp by his knee, and watched it die. Slowly it sank, dulled, looked lazy and stupid. But ever as it sank and dulled, the image in his mind of the Lady of Light grew stronger and clearer. Together the two lamps panted and shuddered. First one, then the other went out, leaving for a moment a great red, evil-smelling snuff. Then all was the blackness of darkness up to their very hearts and everywhere around them. Was it? No. Far away — it looked miles away — shone one minute faint point of green light — where, who could tell? They only knew that it shone. It grew larger, and seemed to draw nearer, until at last, as they watched with speechless delight and expectation, it seemed once more within reach of an outstretched hand. Then it spread and melted away as before, and there were eyes — and a face — and a lovely form — and lo! the whole cavern blazing with lights innumerable, and gorgeous, yet soft and interfused — so blended, indeed, that the eye had to search and see in order to separate distinct spots of special colour.”