Faust monologue — Mr. Faust

But not a soul Grown sceptical of life. Power? Power? For what? And over what? And toward what? Not a power Over myself or pain or loneliness Or ignorance or evil; not a strength To bid the near-world cease, and in its place Instate my visions beautiful and pale, Nearer the heart's desire. No, you would give Power to direct the miseries of men, But not to stay them: power to hold the world As some cold robber-baron from his rocks Once held his little valley: power to sit In ultimate seclusion, and look down On streets and mines and workshops with the sense That I was fountain of the miseries Dark in them all. I thank you; but I think I should derive small sport from such a game. You see, I am not Satan.