What Am I That I

There Is No Escaping, At Times, The Gloomy Suspicion That Fiddling With Pens And Ink Is, After All, No Fit Employment For A Grown Man.

The Realization That Life Is Absurdand Cannot Be An End, But Only Abeginning. This Is A Truth Nearly Allgreat Minds Have Taken As Their Starting Point.

While It Is Well Enough To Leave Footprints On The Sands Of Time, It Is Even More Important To Make Sure They Point In A Commendable Direction.

I Fear You And, Yes, I Love You: And Yet I Cannot Believe. Why Could You Not Let Me Believe, Where So Many Believed? Or Else, Why Could You Not Let Me Deride, As The Remainder Derided So Noisily? O God, Why Could You Not Let Me Have Faith? For You Gave Me No Faith In Anything, Not Even In Nothingness. It Was Not Fair.

Good And Evil Keep Very Exact Accounts... And The Face Of Every Man Is Their Ledger.