...it Strikes Me With Terror And Anguish

I Only Want An Easy Mind, Sir; Not Crushed By Crowded Obligations.

You Can Write Nothing Of Value Unless You Give Yourself Wholly To The The Theme -- And When You So Give Yourself -- You Lose Appetite Ans Sleep -- It Cannot Be Helped --

I Am Very Happy, Jane; And When You Hear That I Am Dead, You Must Be Sure And Not Grieve: There Is Nothing To Grieve About. We All Must Die One Day, And The Illness Which Is Removing Me Is Not Painful; It Is Gentle And Gradual: My Mind Is At Rest. I Leave No One To Regret Me Much: I Have Only A Father; And He Is Lately Married, And Will Not Miss Me. By Dying Young, I Shall Escape Great Sufferings. I Had Not Qualities Or Talents To Make My Way Very Well In The World: I Should Have Been Continually At Fault.

I Have Little Left In Myself -- I Must Have You. The World May Laugh -- May Call Me Absurd, Selfish -- But It Does Not Signify. My Very Soul Demands You: It Will Be Satisfied, Or It Will Take Deadly Vengeance On Its Frame.

I Try To Avoid Looking Forward Or Backward, And Try To Keep Looking Upward.