And here I am, having my life beaten out of me, spark by spark,—and I can't find him—I can't!
I cry out for money—for money!
But no, it is others who have it.—And the way that they use it—O God, the way that they use it!
If all the world were poor, it would not be so bad; but the sight of wealth—of infinite oceans of it squandered in perfect frenzies of ostentation! The sight of this “world”—this world, which they take quite as a matter of course!
I have seen a good deal of this world myself, and I at least do not take it thus. I gaze upon the men and women who do take it thus, and I say, “Are you men and women really? Or are you not some strange, un-Godmade creatures, without ever a thought about justice, without ever a gleam of reason or purpose or sense?”
May 14th.