It seemed also like the mockery of some teasing demon; but the gentle and self-denying Kohen was no teasing demon, and mockery with him was impossible.

I was therefore more bewildered than ever at this reiteration of sentiments that were so utterly incomprehensible.

He, on the other hand, seemed as astonished at my sentiments and as bewildered, and we could find no common ground on which to meet.
"I remember now," said the Kohen, in a musing tone, "having heard of some strange folk at the Amir, who profess to feel as you say you feel, but no one believes that they are in earnest; for although they may even bring themselves to think that they are in earnest in their professions, yet after all everyone thinks that they are self-deceived.

For you see, in the first place, these feelings which you profess are utterly unnatural.

We are so made that we cannot help loving death; it is a sort of instinct.