After all, one grows weary of every thing that is to be had for the mere act of wishing.
As he grows weary, he grasps the straps on either side to steady him.
In later dramas we shall find that he grows to deeper self-knowledge.
No matter how it grows, to my thinking the vine is a lovely thing.
Love that grows like a mushroom lasts about as long—only I don't call it love!