Explore "The Romance of Giovanni Calvotti" by David Christie Murray on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I am remanded for trial.
There is a depth below all possibilities of pain and grief, even before one reaches the grave. I am in that depth already, and I do not believe that there is anything in the world which could touch me with sympathy or with sorrow. I am not even annoyed at myself and my own mental condition, as I surely have a right to be. My bodily health is tolerable. I sleep well at night, and during the day I eat with fair appetite. Some of my belongings have been brought from Posilipo here; amongst them a small mirror. I am so much a stranger to myself in this new-found calm and indifference, that I am almost surprised to find myself unaltered outwardly. I am a little paler than common -- that is all. My mind finds natural employment in the most trivial speculations and fancies, and it is chiefly to save myself from this vanity of thought that I write now of myself and my own concernings.