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Excerpt from We Three
To play with matches is one thing: to play with the fire that you have lighted, or helped light, is another. And it was' not until I played with fire that I did any real harm in this world (that I know about). Playing with fire I singed a moth; I singed a butter�y, and I burnt a man.
If this was just the story of my own life I wouldn't be so impertinent as to hope that it would be interesting to anybody. It isn't my story, and no matter how much I may seem to figure in it, I am neither its hero, nor, I think, the god who started the machinery.
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