I couldn't bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn't think about nothing else.
I have spent most of my life worrying about things that have never happened.
Human beings seem to be a poor invention. If they are the noblest works of God where is the ignoblest?
Genius has no youth, but starts with the ripeness of age and old experience.
Against a diseased imagination demonstration goes for nothing.
And so when I couldn't stand it no longer, I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied.