human
Why couldn't we go swimming? Then, with all the cruelly urgent lovers of the days of hungry poetry:
gpt
We're going to let youth go by and never dare to be mad. Time will get us--we'll be old--it will be too late to enjoy being mad. His lyric cry dropped to a small-boy excuse:
human
Besides, it wouldn't hurt.... Come on. Think of plunging in.
gpt
No, no, no, no!
human
Don't you think we'd better go back now?
gpt
Maybe we ought to. But sit down here.
human
I'm sorry I've been so grouchy coming down the path. But I _don't_ apologize for wanting us to go swimming. Civilization, the world's office-manager, tells us to work like fiends all day and be lonely and respectable all evening, and not even marry till we're thirty, because we can't afford to! That's all right for them as likes to become nice varnished desks, but not for me! I'm going to hunger and thirst and satisfy my appetites--even if it makes me selfish as the devil. I'd rather be that than be a bran-stuffed automaton that's never human enough to hunger. But of course you're naturally a Puritan and always will be one, no matter what you do. You're a good sort-- I'd trust you to the limit--you're sincere and you want to grow. But me--my Wanderjahr isn't over yet. Maybe some time we'll again-- I admire you, but--if I weren't a little mad I'd go literally mad.... Mad--mad!