What Makes Life Worth Living? Better Surely,

I Must Go Deeper And Even Stronger Into My Treasure Mine And Stint Nothing Of Time, Toil, Or Torture.

I Am Tired. My Arm Aches. My Head Boils. My Feet Are Cold. But I Am Not Aware Of Any Weakness.

I Can Write Best In The Silence And Solitude Of The Night, When Everyone Has Retired.

Before Exulatation Had Vanished, I Felt As If I Had Been Granted A Marvellous Privilege. Out Of The Inscrutable Waters A Beautiful Fish Had Somehow Leaped To Show Me Fleetingly The Life And Spirit Of His Element.

The Indian Story Has Never Been Written. Maybe I Am The Man To Do It.