Herman Melville. Moby dick or the White whale (№ 391948)

Every time I notice the sullen creases in the corners of your mouth; every time in the shower I assembled the chilly, rainy November; every time I catch myself, I started to stop in front of the sign and the undertakers to settle down in the tail each counter of the funeral procession; and especially whenever hypochondria seizes me so that only my strict moral principles do not allow me out on the street, persistently and diligently to knock off the hats of passers-by, I understand that I must set sail, and as soon as possible. It replaces my bullet and gun.