...it was a scene of feeling too brimful...
...to be in a trance of content.
...to sever the thread of an existence so long fretted by affliction.
...(the room did not boast a sofa).
...they shook my philosophy more than did the night...
Black was the river as a torrent of ink...
...yet amidst all these deadening influences, my fancy budded fresh...
...they were very plebeian in soul.
...I found myself an object of study: she held me under her eye...
...polishing my faculties and whetting them to a keen edge with constant use.
...on the edge of a moral volcano that rumbled under my feet...
...I was sitting on the hidden seat reclaimed from fungi and mould...
..the tempest took hold of me with tyranny: I was roughly roused and obliged to live.
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