He cut his sleep down to five hours and found that he could get along upon it.
He tried four hours and a half, and regretfully came back to five.

He could joyfully have spent all his waking hours upon any one of his pursuits.

It was with regret that he ceased from writing to study, that he ceased from study to go to the library, that he tore himself away from that chart-room of knowledge or from the magazines in the reading-room that were filled with the secrets of writers who succeeded in selling their wares.

It was like severing heart strings, when he was with Ruth, to stand up and go; and he scorched through the dark streets so as to get home to his books at the least possible expense of time.

And hardest of all was it to shut up the algebra or physics, put note-book and pencil aside, and close his tired eyes in sleep.