I'm afraid--yes, it has come to this.

I am afraid, afraid, and I'd run away out of life if I knew where it would fetch me to.

I'm afraid of things that ain't worth being afraid of, and it's all over things that's beneath me." There came over Andrew, with his mouth to the moist earth, feeling the breath and the fragrance of it in his nostrils, a realization of the great motherhood of nature, and a contempt for himself which was scorching and scathing before it.

He felt that he came from that mighty breast which should produce only sons of might, and was spending his whole life in an ignominy of fruitless climbing up mole-hills.

"Why couldn't I have been more ?" he asked himself.