This coming election was beginning to have terrors for me that I have never before felt.

The thought of defeat--having to go back to comparative poverty, to comparative obscurity, with you as my wife, was growing into a nightmare.

I should have wanted wealth, fame, victory, for your sake--to see you honoured, courted, envied, finely dressed and finely housed--grateful to me for having won for you these things.

It wasn't honest, healthy love--the love that unites, that makes a man willing to take as well as to give, that I felt for you; it was worship that separates a man from a woman, that puts fear between them.

It isn't good that man should worship a woman.