This was more than a convalescence—this was an increase, a recrudescence of life, the afflux of a richer, hotter blood which would touch my thoughts one by one, penetrating everywhere, stirring, coloring the most remote, delicate and secret fibers of my being. For whether we are strong or weak, we grow accustomed to our condition; the self, according to its powers, takes shape; but what if these powers should increase, if they should afford a wider scope, what if … ?
