I possessed too many fine faiths, was living at too keen a pitch.

I was a socialist, intent on saving the world, and alcohol could not give me the fervours that were mine from my ideas and ideals.

My voice, on account of my successful writing, had added weight, or so I thought.

At any rate, my reputation as a writer drew me audiences that my reputation as a speaker never could have drawn.
I was invited before clubs and organisations of all sorts to deliver my message.

I fought the good fight, and went on studying and writing, and was very busy.
Up to this time I had had a very restricted circle of friends.