"what is more potent than fire!" said he, in his gloomiest tone. "even thought, invisible and incorporeal as it is, cannot escape it. in this little time, it has annihilated the creations of long nights and days, which i could no more reproduce, in their first glow and freshness, than cause ashes and whitened bones to rise up and live. there, too, i sacrificed the unborn children of my mind. all that i had accomplished all that i planned for future years has perished by one common ruin, and left only this heap of embers! the deed has been my fate. and what remains? a weary and aimless life, a long repentance of this hour, and at last an obscure grave, where they will bury and forget me!"