I blame myself without reserve for my weakness.

It was merely weakness.

One half-hour with Art was always more to me than a cycle with you.

Nothing really at any period of my life was ever of the smallest importance[44] to me compared with Art.

But in the case of an artist, weakness is nothing less than a crime when it is a weakness that paralyses the imagination.
I blame myself for having allowed you to bring me to utter and discreditable financial ruin.