What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death.

I can write best in the silence and solitude of the night, when everyone has retired.

I must go deeper and even stronger into my treasure mine and stint nothing of time, toil, or torture.

Far away Tongariro! Green - white thundering Athabasca river of New Zealand! I vowed I would come again down across the Pacific to fish in the swift cold waters of this most beautiful and famous of trout streams. It is something to have striven. It is much to have kept your word.

I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.

I will see this game of life out to its bitter end

The difficulty, the ordeal, is to start.