My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. I’ve got imagination. It doesn't look bad, does it?" "Mercy, no! That wasn't the thought. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 06-06-2024 22:13:12
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