"I was twenty-one at the time, about to turn twenty-two. No prospect of graduating soon, and yet no reason to quit school. Caught in the most curiously depressing circumstances. For months I’d been stuck, unable to take one step in any new direction. The world kept moving on; I alone was at a standstill. In the autumn, everything took a desolate cast, the colors swiftly fading before my eyes. The sunlight, the smell of the grass, the faintest patter of rain, everything got on my nerves.
How many times did I dream of catching a train at night?"
"I walked around from one bookshelf to another in the room devoted to books for boys, watched countless stories which had come from all kinds of countries of today and in the past to pack the bookshelves, and reveled in dazzling sensations. Once I opened a book, I could easily enter the fantasy world unfolding on its pages. I returned to this world when I closed the book."