Status Updates From Jacob's Room

“Is this all? Can I never know, share, be certain? Am I doomed all my days to write letters, send voices, which fall upon the tea-table, fade upon the passage, making appointments, while life dwindles, to come and dine?“

This page goes hard

“Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.”

“Is this the way to spend our days? The rare, the limited, so soon deal out to us—drinking tea? Dining out? And the notes accumulate. And the telephones ring. And everywhere we go wires and tubes surround us to carry the voices that try to penetrate before the last card is dealt and the days are over.”

“Each had his own business to think of. Each had his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart; and his friends could only read the title”

“It is no use trying to sum people up. One must follow hints, not exactly what is said, nor yet entirely what is done”

(I'm twenty-two. It's nearly the end of October. Life is thoroughly pleasant, although unfortunately there are a great number of fools about. One must apply oneself to something or other — God knows what. Everything is really very jolly except getting up in the morning and wearing a tail coat.)