but a little spirit is equal to the entire cosmos, to earth and
ocean, sun and star-hollow. These are but a few acres to it.
Were the cosmos twice as wide, the soul could run over it,
and return to itself in a time so small, no measure exists to mete it.
Therefore, I think the soul may sometimes find out an existence as superior
as my mind is to the dead chalk cliff.

With the great sun burning over the foamflaked sea, roofed with
heaven--aware of myself, a consciousness forced on me by these
things--I feel that thought must yet grow larger and correspond
in magnitude of conception to these. But these cannot content
me, these Titanic things of sea, and sun, and profundity; I feel
that my thought is stronger than they are. I burn life like a
torch. The hot light shot back from the sea scorches my cheek--
my life is burning in me. The soul throbs like the sea for a
larger life. No thought which I have ever had has satisfied my
soul.

CHAPTER VII

MY strength is not enough to fulfil my desire; if I had the strength of the
ocean,and of the earth, the burning vigour of the sun implanted in my limbs,
it would hardly suffice to gratify the measureless desire of life which
possesses me. I have often walked the day long over the sward, and,
compelled
to pause, at length, in my weariness, I was full of the same eagerness with
which I started. The sinews would obey no longer,
but the will was the same. My frame could never take the violent exertion my
heart demanded. Labour of body was like meat
and drink to me. Over the open hills, up the steep ascents, mile after mile,