"If you know about love, you must also know about the Soul of the World, because it's made of love."
"From where I am," the sun said, "I can see the Soul of the World.
It communicates with my soul, and together we cause the plants to grow and the sheep to seek out shade.
From where I am -- and I'm a long way from the earth -- I learned how to love.
I know that if I came even a little bit closer to the earth, everything there would die, and the Soul of the World would no longer exist.
So we contemplate each other, and we want each other, and I give it life and warmth, and it gives me my reason for living."
"So you know about love," the boy said.
"And I know the Soul of the World, because we have talked at great length to each other during this endless trip through the universe.
It tells me that its greatest problem is that, up until now, only the minerals and vegetables understand that all things are one.
That there's no need for iron to be the same as copper, or copper the same as gold.
Each performs its own exact function as a unique being,
and everything would be a symphony of peace if the hand that wrote all this had stopped on the fifth day of creation."
"But there was a sixth day," the sun went on.
"You are wise, because you observe everything from a distance," the boy said.
"But you don't know about love. If there hadn't been a sixth day, man would not exist; copper would always be just copper, and lead just lead.
It's true that everything has its personal legend, but one day that personal legend will be realized.
So each thing has to transform itself into something better, and to acquire a new personal legend,
until, someday, the Soul of the World becomes one thing only."