"Kill me, and the result will be that he will come upon you unawares and murder you all, as he has resolved to do sooner or later." After that speech he glared at me in silence, then flung down the spear he had snatched up in his sudden rage and stalked out of the house and into the wood; but before long he was back again, seated in his old place, brooding on my words with a face black as night.
It is painful to recall that secret dark chapter of my life--that period of moral insanity.

But I wish not to be a hypocrite, conscious or unconscious, to delude myself or another with this plea of insanity.

My mind was very clear just then; past and present were clear to me; the future clearest of all: I could measure the extent of my action and speculate on its future effect, and my sense of right or wrong--of individual responsibility--was more vivid than at any other period of my life.

Can I even say that I was blinded by passion?
Driven, perhaps, but certainly not blinded.

For no reaction, or submission, had followed on that furious revolt against the unknown being, personal or not, that is behind nature, in whose existence I believed.