I was dead, and I live--I shall die and yet live.

Everything has been forgiven and blotted out.--There was dust on my
wings.--I soar aloft into the sun and into infinite space. I shall die
singing from the fullness of my soul. Shall I sing!

Enough.

* * * * *

I know that I shall again be gloomy and depressed and drag along a weary
existence; but I have once soared into infinity and have felt a ray of
eternity within me. That I shall never lose again. I should like to go
to a convent, to some quiet, cloistered cell, where I might know nothing
of the world, and could live on within myself until death shall call me.
But it is not to be. I am destined to live on in freedom and to labor;
to live with my fellow-beings and to work for them.

The results of my handiwork and of my powers of imagination belong to
you; but what I am within myself is mine alone.

* * * * *

I have taken leave of everything here; of my quiet room, of my summer
bench; for I know not whether I shall ever return. And if I do, who
knows but what everything may have become strange to me?

* * * * *