'I cannot tell how I feel, who can ever? I feel like a person in a novel of George Sand’s; I feel a desire to go out of the house, and begin life anew in the cool blue night. Never to come back here; never, never. Only to go on forever by sunny day and gray day, by bright night and foul, by highway and byway, town and hamlet, until somewhere by a roadside or in some clean inn, clean death opened his arms to me, and took me to his quiet heart forever.'