I have seen that iceberg thirty-four times in thirty-seven voyages; it is
always the same shape, it is always the same size, it always throws up
the same old flash when the sun strikes it; you may set it on any New
York door-step of a June morning and light it up with a mirror-flash; and
I will engage to recognize it. It is artificial, and it is provided and
anchored out by the steamer companies. I used to like the sea, but I was
young then, and could easily get excited over any kind of monotony, and
keep it up till the monotonies ran out, if it was a fortnight.
It vexes me to catch myself praising the clean private citizen Roosevelt,
and blaming the soiled President Roosevelt, when I know that neither
praise nor blame is due to him for any thought or word or deed of his, he
being merely a helpless and irresponsible coffee-mill ground by the hand
of God.
It was a presidential year and the air was thick with politics. Mark
Twain was no longer actively interested in the political situation; he
was only disheartened by the hollowness and pretense of office-seeking,
and the methods of office-seekers in general.
Shall we ever laugh again? If I could only see a dog that I knew in the
old times! and could put my arms around his neck and tell him all,
everything, and ease my heart. Think--in 3 hours it will be a week!--and
soon a month; and by and by a year. How fast our dead fly from us.
Aldrich was here half an hour ago, like a breeze from over the fields,
with the fragrance still upon his spirit. I am tired of waiting for that
man to get old.
When a man is a pessimist before 48 he knows too much; if he is an
optimist after it, he knows too little.