The Moon Of A Bright Silver, Which

Holy Istanbul! Your Name Is The Most Enchanting One Of All Names Which Enchants Me.

I Am Surprised That I Cannot Recall Whether My Desire To Become A Minister Transformed Itself Into A Wish To Lead The More Militant Life Of Missionary, By A Slow Process Or Suddenly.

My Books Were Always Full Of Ink Blots, Always Stained And Covered With Smeared Sketches And Pictures, Which One Draws Idly When His Attention Wanders From His Task.

I Am Sure That The Sad Days And Happenings Were Rare, And That I Lived The Joyous And Careless Life Of Other Children; But Just Because The Happy Days Were So Habitual To Me They Made No Impression Upon My Mind, And I Can No Longer Recall Them.

Unlike Most Other Children, - Especially Unlike Those Of Today - Who Are Eager To Become Men And Women As Speedily As Possible, I Had A Terror Of Growing Up, Which Became More And More Accentuated As I Grew Older.