I am to be deplored--even the remains of wreck that remain in me. I am painfully conscious of my own deficiency, and painfully anxious, as you might have seen it, to hide it from observation--mine. If only I could have recovered in a complete stance of oblivion as to the past, I would have been a happier man. Perhaps we should all be happier. I felt the misery of friendlessness, all the peril of my dreadful responsibility. For years past, I have suffered from an incurable internal complaint. I dont want any longer to disguise it from you--I should have let the agony of it kill me long since--but now for one last interest n life, which makes my existence somewhat of importance to me still. The latent resources of man, for good or for evil--it is hard to say, at this moment, to say which--they just leap with the suddenness of flash of light. To my leaving off the darkness, the dark I am habitually in: when it is a habit, someone must have no common constitution who can leave it off suddenly without some temporary damage to her nervous system.

posted by Graciana@Home at 8:30 am