But I was sick with the world, and turned from the boat to gaze over the sea.

There is a power in the quiet water by night; it draws a man with a promise of peace in the soft lap of forgetfulness.

So strong is the allurement that, though I count myself sane and of sound mind, I do not love to look too long on the bosom of deep waters when the night is full; for the doubt comes then whether to live is sanity and not rather to die and have an end of the tossing of life and the unresting dissatisfaction of our state.

That night the impulse came on me mightily, and I fought it, forcing myself to look, refusing the weakness of flight from the seductive siren.

For I was fenced round with troubles and of a sore heart: there lay the open country and a heart at peace.
Suddenly I gave a low exclamation; the water, which had fled from us as we moved, seeming glad to pass us by and rush again on its race undisturbed, stood still.