He was a self-made man who owed his lack of success to nobody.
And anything worth dying for
The night was full of horrors, and he thought he knew how Christ must have felt as he walked through the world, like a psychiatrist through a ward full of nuts.
From men motivated by moral certitude, history teaches, no lasting good ever comes.
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt.
He knew everything about literature except how to enjoy it.