"What are you going to do when your force pushes you on to a thing which is closed to you? Stop the force? Well, doesn't that stop yourself? Turn it somewhere else? Easy to say in working out a philosophy,—not so easy to do.
"Where's the end of it?—that's what I want to know. I'm one of those practical chaps who wants to see an end in sight.
"Ernestine, light's a great thing. Light's the great thing. I never knew that until I went blind. You have to stay a long time in the darkness to know just what it is light means.
"They call great men 'great lights.' 'And then came the light,' they say, regarding the solving of some great thing. 'He brought the light'—that's what I wanted to do! They tell about science bringing the light. I know now what a tribute they pay when they say that. Light of understanding, light of truth—and ah, mein liebchen, the light of love—and well do I know how that light can shine into the darkness!
"'More light'—Goethe said, when he was going out into the dark. A great thing to ask for. I know how he felt!—'And God said—Let there be light'—I don't wonder that story has lived a long time.
"My books are finished. Now what?—more books?—lectures?—some kind of old woman's make-shift? Sit here and watch my red blood dry up? Sit here like a plant shrivelling away in the darkness? Be looked after and fussed over and have things made as easy for me as possible? I don't know—I can't see—
"There, liebchen—I've taken a brace. I took a long drink of courage, and I'm in better shape. Often when I get like that I've been tempted to take a long drink of something else—but I never have. Whiskey's for men who feel good; men who haven't much to fight. Not for me—not any such finish as that.
"I'm making bad business of this letter. I wanted to tell things, tell what light was and what darkness was; but I can't do it. Many things have been circling around my thoughts and I thought I might get hold of a few of them and pull them in. But I can't seem to do it. I never was much good at writing things out; it's hard to get words for things that aren't even full-born thoughts.
"My work was great, liebchen—great! A constant piercing of the darkness with light—a letting in of more light—new light. I can understand now why I loved it; where the joy was; what it was I was doing.
"Is life like that? Don't we understand things until we are out of them? By Jove, is it true that we have to get out of them, in order to understand them? And if that's true, is it the understanding that's the goal? Is it—oh, I don't know—I'm sure I don't know.