“Who are you?” asked Shasta.
“Myself,” said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it.”
“The world doesn’t really have much respect for Christians who adopt its fashions and ideas. It is inclined to regard them with contempt—to write them off either as cowards who are ashamed of their faith or as frauds whose profession is not sincere.”
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