The issue assumed serious dimensions. I dread to think how terribly he poisoned my mind, as compared with him all the dire calamity of British petrolium could be seen just as dabbling. His venom of the spiteful satire which he successfully put up infects me with some voluptuous desire of revenge. It is purely comparable with the spite of the furious crowd in the time of French revolution. Oh, I need to calm down and let off some steam. Now I am ashamed of my words as I am sure my mind made weak through undernourishment and overwork. Indeed, I ought to believe he didn't mean to hurt me.



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Saint Jean Baptiste (1604)