Since I must speak, let me tell you that I have at present no disposition to return.

Neither are the circumstances that surround me now those which will give me contentment; but I feel that I am here as a temporary place, and that by spring something will turn up which I hope will be for the happiness of us all.

What it will be I have not the least idea of now.

It is as impossible for me to give you an explanation of that which has led me of late as it would be for a stranger.

All before me is dark, even as that is which leads me now and has led me before.
One sentiment I have which I feel I cannot impart to you.