shall I do?"

I had no occupation. I had studied medicine and law without being able
to decide on either of the two careers; I had worked for a banker for six
months, and my services were so unsatisfactory that I was obliged to
resign to avoid being discharged. My studies had been varied but
superficial; my memory was active but not retentive.

My only treasure, after love, was reserve. In my childhood I had devoted
myself to a solitary way of life, and had, so to speak, consecrated my
heart to it. One day my father, solicitous about my future, spoke to me
of several careers among which he allowed me to choose. I was leaning on
the window-sill, looking at a solitary poplar-tree that was swaying in
the breeze down in the garden. I thought over all the various
occupations and wondered which one I should choose. I turned them all
over, one after another, in my mind, and then, not feeling inclined to
any of them, I allowed my thoughts to wander. Suddenly it seemed to me
that I felt the earth move, and that a secret, invisible force was slowly
dragging me into space and becoming tangible to my senses. I saw it
mount into the sky; I seemed to be on a ship; the poplar near my window
resembled a mast; I arose, stretched out my arms, and cried:

"It is little enough to be a passenger for one day on this ship floating
through space; it is little enough to be a man, a black point on that
ship; I will be a man, but not any particular kind of man."

Such was the first vow that, at the age of fourteen, I pronounced in the
face of nature, and since then I have done nothing, except in obedience
to my father, never being able to overcome my repugnance.