From “PostCaptain” by Patrick O’Brian.
“When I let
my mind dwell on the vast potentiality for happiness, and our present state?
Such potentiality, and so much misery? Hatred the only moving force, a petulant
unhappy striving – childhood the only happiness, and that unknowing; then the
continual battle that cannot ever possibly be won; a losing fight against ill
health – poverty for nearly all. Life is
a long disease with only one termination and its last years are appalling:
weak, racked by the stone, rheumatismal pains, senses going, friends, family,
occupation gone, a man must pray for imbecility or a heart of stone. All under sentence of death, often
ignominious frequently agonizing: and then the unspeakable levity with which the
faint chance of happiness is thrown away for some jealousy, tiff, sullenness,
private vanity, mistaken sense of honor, that deadly, weak and silly notion.”
