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“Had any one dared to say this truth to me then, I should have bade him go and preach nonsense to children,—but now,—when I recall those white leaves of days that were unrolled before me fresh and blank with every sunrise, and with which I did nothing save scrawl my own Ego in a foul smudge across each one, I tremble, and inwardly pray that I may never be forced to send back my self-written record!”