Explore "A Night Journey Round my Room" by Xavier De Maistre on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I had been in bed a quarter of an hour and, contrary to my usual habit, was still awake. The saddest reflections had succeeded the idea of my dedication; my candle, which was nearly finished, threw only an unsteady and doleful light from the bottom of the candlestick, and my room looked as funereal as a tomb. Suddenly a gust of wind blew open the window and put out the candle and banged the door to violently. The gloomy cast of my thoughts deepened in the darkness.
All my past pleasures, all my present troubles, rushed at once to my breast and filled it with bitter sorrow.