If someone ever gives their mind a moment to breathe and takes time to be alone with their thoughts, what painful truths they will admit to themselves! After being tortured by their own conscience, they will say: "I wish I could undo everything I've done. When I think about the things I've said, I envy people who can't speak. Everything I've wanted seems like something my enemies would wish on me. My God, the things I was afraid of seem so much more bearable than the things I craved. I've been enemies with many people and later became friends with them — if you can call it friendship when bad people get along. But I still haven't made peace with myself. I've fought with all my strength to rise above ordinary people and make myself stand out with some special talent."
If a man ever allows his mind some breathing space and has leisure for communing with himself, what truths he will confess to himself, after having been put to the torture by his own self! He will say, "Whatever I have hitherto done I wish were undone: when I think over what I have said, I envy dumb people: whatever I have longed for seems to have been what my enemies would pray might befall me: good heaven, how far more endurable what I have feared seems to be than what I have lusted after. I have been at enmity with many men, and have changed my dislike of them into friendship, if friendship can exist between bad men: yet I have not yet become reconciled to myself. I have striven with all my strength to raise myself above the common herd, and to make myself remarkable for some talent: