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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
327
July
23.
Reading
Pascal
again.
If
Shelley
was
"gold
dusty
from
tumbling
among
the
stars,"
Pascal
was
bruised
and
shaken.
The
one
was
delighted,
and
the
other
frightened.
I
like
Pascal's
prostration
before
the
infinities
of
Time,
Space
and
the
Unknown.
Somehow,
he
conveys
this
more
vividly
than
the
uplift
afforded
him
by
religion.
July
25.
I
don't
believe
in
the
twin-soul
theory
of
marriage.
There
are
plenty
of
men
any
one
of
whom
she
might
have
married
and
lived
with
happily,
and
simpler
men
than
I
am.
Methinks
there
are
large
tracts
could
be
sliced
off
my
character
and
she
would
scarcely
feel
the
want
of
them.
To
think
that
she
of
all
women,
with
a
past
such
as
hers,
should
be
swept
into
my
vicious
orbit!
Yet
she
seems
to
bear
Destiny
no
resentment,
so
I
bear
it
for
her
and
enough
for
two.
At
our
engagement
I
gave
her
my
own
ring
to
wear
as
a
pledge--we
thought
it
nicer
than
buying
a
new
one.
It
was
a
signet
ring
with
a
dark
smooth
stone.
Strange
to
say
it
never
once
occurred
to
me
till
now
that
it
was
a
mourning
ring
in
memory
of
a
great-uncle
of
mine,
actually
with
an
inscription
on
the
inside.
July
26.
As
long
as
I
can
hold
a
pen,
I
shall,
I
suppose,
go
on
trickling
ink
into
this
diary!
I
am
amusing
myself
by
reading
the
Harmsworth
Encyclopædia
in
15
volumes,
i.e.,
I
turn
over
the
pages
and
read
everything
of
interest
that
catches
my
eye.
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