or it is not
worthwhile lying for a fortnight; a fortnight of life is not itself
worth having, which is a proof that I write nothing here but pure truth.

("N.B.--Let me remember to consider; am I mad at this moment, or not? or
rather at these moments? I have been told that consumptives sometimes
do go out of their minds for a while in the last stages of the malady.
I can prove this tomorrow when I read it out, by the impression it
makes upon the audience. I must settle this question once and for all,
otherwise I can't go on with anything.)

"I believe I have just written dreadful nonsense; but there's no time
for correcting, as I said before. Besides that, I have made myself a
promise not to alter a single word of what I write in this paper, even
though I find that I am contradicting myself every five lines. I wish to
verify the working of the natural logic of my ideas tomorrow during the
reading--whether I am capable of detecting logical errors, and whether
all that I have meditated over during the last six months be true, or
nothing but delirium.

"If two months since I had been called upon to leave my room and the
view of Meyer's wall opposite, I verily believe I should have been
sorry. But now I have no such feeling, and yet I am leaving this room
and Meyer's brick wall FOR EVER. So that my conclusion, that it is not
worth while indulging in grief, or any other emotion, for a fortnight,
has proved stronger than my very nature, and has taken over the
direction of my feelings. But is it so? Is it the case that my nature
is conquered entirely? If I were to be put on the rack now, I should
certainly cry out. I should not say that it is not worth while to yell
and feel pain because I have but a fortnight to live.

"But is it true that I have but a fortnight of life left to me? I know I
told some of my friends that Doctor B. had informed me that this was the
case; but I now confess that I lied; B. has not even seen me. However,
a week ago, I called in a medical student, Kislorodoff, who is a
Nationalist, an Atheist, and a Nihilist, by conviction, and that is why
I had him. I needed a man who would tell me the bare truth without any
humbug or ceremony--and so he did--indeed, almost with pleasure (which I
thought was going a little too far).

"Well, he plumped out that I had about a month left me; it might be a
little more, he said, under favourable circumstances, but it might
also be considerably less. According to h