Now that square-root of minus one is here again. I read over what I have written and I clearly see that I was insincere with myself, that I lied to myself in order to avoid seeing that square-root of minus one. My sickness, etc. , is all nonsense; I could go there . I feel sure that if such a thing had happened a week ago I should have gone without hesitating. Why then am I unable to go now?⁠ ⁠… Why?

Today, for instance, at exactly sixteen-ten I stood before the glittering Glass Wall. Above was the shining, golden, sun-like sign: “Bureau of Guardians.” Inside, a long queue of bluish-gray unifs awaiting their turns, faces shining like the oil lamps in an ancient temple. They came to accomplish a great thing: they came to put on the altar of the United State their beloved ones, their friends, their own selves. My whole being craved to join them, yet⁠ ⁠… I could not; my feet were as though melted into the glass plates of the sidewalk. I simply stood there looking foolish.