I am miserable, self-disgusted, self-helpless, craving for freedom, and yet crying aloud for some one to come and guide me, and teach me; and WHO IS THERE IN THESE DAYS WHO COULD TEACH A FAST MAN, EVEN IF HE WOULD TRY?
Be sure, that as long as you and yours make piety a synonym for unmanliness, you will never convert either me or any other good sportsman.
'By the bye, my dear fellow, was I asleep or awake when I seemed to read in the postscript of your last letter, something about "being driven to Rome after all"?
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Why thither, of all places in heaven or earth?
You know, I have no party interest in the question.

All creeds are very much alike to me just now.