My person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to solve them.

I could not understand why men who knew all about good and evil could hate and kill each other.

I cherished hope, it is true, but it vanished when my person reflected . . .

Truly disappointment is the guardian deity of human life; she sits at the threshold of unborn time, and marshals the events as they come forth.

My own mind began to grow, watchful with anxoius thoughts.

Her countenance was all expression; her eyes were not dark but impenetrably deep; you seemed to discover space after space in their intellectual glance.

I, a miserable wretch, haunted by a curse that shut up every avenue to enjoyment.