'in tiskindigi bir irk!
"my people were entirely nordic, which is to say idiots. every wrong idea which has ever been expounded was theirs. among them was the doctrine of cleanliness, to say nothing of righteousness. they were painfully dean. but inwardly they stank. never once had they opened the door which leads to the soul; never once did they dream of taking a blind leap into the dark. after dinner the dishes were promptly washed and put in the closet; after the paper was read it was neatly folded and laid away on a shelf; after the clothes were washed they were ironed and folded and then tucked away in the drawers. everything was for tomorrow, but tomorrow never came. the present was only a bridge and on this bridge they are still groaning, as the world groans, and not one idiot ever thinks of blowing up the bridge.
in my bitterness i often search for reasons to condemn them, the better to condemn myself. for i am like them too, in many ways. for a long while i thought i had escaped, but as time goes on i see that i am no better, that i am even a little worse, because i saw more dearly than they ever did and yet remained powerless to alter my life. as i look back on my life it seems to me that i never did anything of my own volition but always through the pressure of others. people often think of me as an adventurous fellow; nothing could be farther from the truth. my adventures were always adventitious, always thrust on me, always endured rather than undertaken. i am of the very essence of that proud, boastful nordic people who have never had the least sense of adventure but who nevertheless have scoured the earth, turned it upside down, scattering relics and ruins everywhere. restless spirits, but not adventurous ones. agonizing spirits, incapable of living in the present disgraceful cowards, all of them, myself included. for there is only one great adventure and that is inward towards the self, and for that, time nor space nor even deeds matter..." tropic of capricorn
, sahife 11