All the bitterness of the conflict with this devil of an amiable spouse, who has got herself so stuck in her own head.

It is terrible to be young .-- But one fights one's way through it, till one is cleaned: the self-consciousness and sex-idea burned out of one, cauterized out bit by bit, and the self whole again, and at last free.
The best thing I have known is the stillness of accomplished marriage, when one possesses one's own soul in silence, side by side with the amiable spouse, and has left off craving and raving and being only half one's self.

But I must say, I know a great deal more about the craving and raving and sore ribs, than about the accomplishment.

And I must confess that I feel this self-same "accomplishment" of the fulfilled being is only a preparation for new responsibilities ahead, new unison in effort and conflict, the effort to make, with other men, a little new way into the future, and to break through the hedge of the many.
But--to your tents, my Israel.

And to that precious baby you've left slumbering there.