"I am simply--not yet accustomed to life." "He who knows not what he is going to do tomorrow, is unhappy," said Luba, sadly.

"I do not know it, neither do you.

Whither go?
Yet go we must, Why is it that my heart is never at ease?
Some kind of a longing is always quivering within it." "It is the same with me," said Foma.

"I start to reflect, but on what?
I cannot make it clear to myself.

There is also a painful gnawing in my heart.