No man has ever yet attained to self-realization; yet he strives thereafter, one ploddingly, another with less effort, each as best he can.
Each one carries the remains of his birth, slime and eggshells of a primeval world, with him to the end.
Many a one will remain a frog, a lizard, an ant. Many a one is top-part man and bottom-part fish.
But everyone is a projection of nature into manhood.
To us all the same origin is common, our mothers—we all come out of the womb.
But each of us—an experiment, one of nature’s litter, strives after his own ends.
We can understand one another; but each one is able to explain only himself.
CHAPTER ONE - TWO WORLDS
I will begin my story with an event of the time when I was ten or eleven years old and went to the Latin school of our little town.
Much of the old-time fragrance is wafted back to me, but my sensations are not unmixed, as I pass in review my memories—
dark streets and bright houses and towers, the striking of clocks and the features of men,
comfortable and homely rooms, rooms full of secrecy and dread of ghosts.
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