Now he is impassioned with pity for a human soul, and his first new sculpture will be the creation of her soul.
Shall to produce form out of unshaped stuff Be Art--and further, to evoke a soul From form be nothing?
This new soul is mine! At last, he is borne into self-forgetfulness by love, and finds a man's salvation.

And in that loss of self he drinks of the deep fountain of art.

Aprile found that out.

Sordello dies as he discovers it, and Jules, the moment he has touched its waters with his lip, sees a new realm of art arise, and loves it with such joy that he knows he will have power to dwell in its heart, and create from its joy.
One may do whate'er one likes In Art; the only thing is, to make sure That one does like it--which takes pains to know.
He breaks all his models up.

They are paltry, dead things belonging to a dead past.