When I have finished impatiently raging, when I become calm, it is as if intimation and memory wove a picture which still cannot take definite shape because I cannot get it to stand still all at once. It is like a pattern in a fine texture; the pattern is lighter than the ground and by itself it is invisible because it is too light. – This is a curious state to be in, yet it has its pleasant side both in itself and also because it proves to me that I am still young.