I had expected pleasure from the invention of the arguments, from the arrangement of them, from the putting of them together, and from the thought in the interim that I was engaged in an innocent contest for literary honour.
But, all my pleasure was damped by the facts which were now continually before me.

It was but one gloomy subject from morning to night.

In the day-time I was uneasy.

In the night I had little rest.

I sometimes never closed my eye-lids for grief.