still no Happiness—oh, then I vow I will not live another hour, even if dying were rushing headlong to damnation!
I am, do you see, a philosopher and a coward—with the philosophy of cowardice. I squeeze juice also from this fact sometimes—but the juice is not sweet juice.
The Devil—the fascinating man-devil—it may be, is coming, coming, coming.
And meanwhile I go on and on, in the midst of sand and barrenness.
