76/78 I speak the language of nihilism, but sponging has never been the guiding motive of my action. I always imagined there was something higher than meat and drink between us, and--I've never, never been a scoundrel! And so, to take the open road, to set things right. I set off late, late autumn out of doors, the mist lies over the fields, the hoarfrost of old age covers the road before me, and the wind howls about the approaching grave.... |