Staring at those turf-covered bastions, and drawing into his lungs lovely breathings from damp moss and cold primroses⁠—breathings that seemed to float up and down that valley on airy journeys of their own⁠—he found himself gathering his mental resources together so as to face with a concentrated spirit whatever awaited him in these pleasant places.⁠ ⁠… “Christ is not a man; He never was a man,” he thought. “And He will be more than a god when God is dead.⁠ ⁠… Three church-towers⁠ ⁠… three. Ramsgard⁠ ⁠… King’s Barton⁠ ⁠… Blacksod⁠ ⁠… it’s quaint to think that I’ve absolutely no idea what I shall be feeling when I touch with my hand the masonry of those three towers⁠ ⁠… or what people I shall know! I hope I shall find some girl who’ll let me make love to her⁠ ⁠… tall and slim and white! I’d like her to be very white⁠ ⁠… with a tiny little mole, like Imogen’s, upon her left breast.⁠ ⁠… I’d like to make love to her out-of-doors⁠ ⁠… among elder-bushes⁠ ⁠… among elder-bushes and herb-Robert.⁠ ⁠…”