“WHAT heart could have thought you? --Past our devisal(O filigree petal!)Fashioned so purely,Fragilely, surely,From what ParadisalImagineless metal,Too costly for cost?Who hammered you, wrought you,From argentine vapor? --"God was my shaper.Passing surmisal,He hammered, He wrought me,From curled silver vapor,To lust of His mind --Thou could'st not have thought me!So purely, so palely,Tinily, surely,Mightily, frailly,Insculped and embossed,With His hammer of wind,And His graver of frost.”

“Why didn’t you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?’‘Well, Pip,’ said Joe, taking up the poker, and settling himself to his usual occupation when he was thoughtful, of slowly raking the fire between the lower bars; ‘I’ll tell you. My father, Pip, he were given to drink, and when he were overtook with drink, he hammered away at my mother, most onmerciful. It were a’most the only hammering he did, indeed, ‘xcepting at myself. And he hammered at me with a wigour only to be equaled by the wigour with which he didn’t hammer at his anwil. – You’re a-listening and understanding Pip?’‘Yes, Joe.’‘’Consequence, my mother and me we ran away from my father, several times; and then my mother she’d go out to work, and she’d say, “Joe,” she’d say, “now, please God, you shall have some schooling, child,” and she’d put me to school. But my father were that good in his hart that he couldn’t abear to be without us. So he’d come with a most tremenjous crowd, and make such a row at the doors of the houses where we was, that they used to be obligated to have no more to do with us and to give us up to him. And then he took us home and hammered us. Which, you see, Pip,’ said Joe, pausing in his meditative raking of the fire and looking at me, ‘were a drawback on my learning.’Chapter 7”

“So it has come, the day of testing. Without warning, without fanfare, it is here, and he is in the middle of it. In his chest his heart hammers so hard that it too, in its dumb way, must know. How will they stand up to the testing, he and his heart?”

“My generosity must bear a cost or there’d be no value in what you gain from it. There’d be no second thought for me, the tiny, humble mankin who came to save you. Is it right for a desperate soul to expect redemption for nothing? No. No, no. So, tell me, child, what will you give me in exchange for my services?"- from "Dimpellumpzki”

“I couldn't hear his voice over the hammer of my heart. And I told myself over and over I should have known that someone who could love so hard and so well could also hate, and hurt, as deeply.”

“I have an idea that most of all he is running away from love, because it's too big and too demanding. He's running away from us--from you, from me, from his sister, from himself, too. Who wants to be himself, who wants to be so little, and so captured and limited?”