There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Tell me truly, I implore-- Is there-- is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!

I am walking like a bewitched corpse, with the certainty of being eaten by the infinite, of being annulled by the only existing Absurd.

You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not about money-finders.

And so, being young and dipt in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.

He is, as you say, a remarkable horse, a prodigious horse, although as you very justly observe, a suspicious and untractable character.