I had lived in a bright, clean world, I myself had been a sort of Abel,
and now I was so firmly fixed in the other and had sunk so deeply, but really what could I do to help it?
What was my position now? A reminiscence glowed in me which for the moment almost took away my breath.
I remembered that wretched evening, from which my present misery dated,
when I looked for an instant into the heart of my father’s bright world and despised his wisdom!
Then I was Cain and bore the sign; I imagined that it was in no way shameful, but a distinction,
and in my wickedness and unhappiness I stood on a higher level than my father, higher than good and pious people.
It was not in such a clear-thinking way that my experience then presented itself to me, but all this was contained therein.
It was only a flaming up of feeling, of strange emotions which caused me pain and yet filled me with pride.
When I considered the matter, I saw how strangely Demian had spoken of the fearless and the cowards!
How curiously he had explained the mark on Cain’s forehead.
How singularly his eyes had lit up, those peculiar eyes of a grown person!
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