In spite of himself he went on reasoning in stupendous thoughts, in enormous ideas, figuring with immense abstractions.

And then after all, why not?
Other men had striven and attained; other men were even now striving, other men would "arrive"; why should not he?
As well he as another.

Every man for himself--that was his maxim.

It might be damned selfish, but it was human nature: the weakest to the wall, the strongest to the front.

Why should not he be in the front?
Why not in the very front rank?
Why not be even before the front rank itself--the leader?
Vast, vague ideas passed slowly across the vision of his mind, ideas that could hardly be formulated into thought, ideas of the infinite herd of humanity, driven on as if by some enormous, relentless engine, driven on toward some fearful distant bourne, driven on recklessly at headlong speed.