Anxieties about an Uncertain Future

An old favorite.

“The thing still seemed impossible. But gradually something happened to him which had happened to him only twice before in his life. It happened once while he was trying to make up his mind to do a very dangerous job in the last war. It had happened again while he was screwing his resolution to go and see a certain man in London and make to him an excessively embarrassing confession which justice demanded. In both cases the thing had seemed a sheer impossibility: he had not thought but known that, being what he was, he was psychologically incapable of doing it; and then, without any apparent movement of the will, as objective and unemotional as the reading on a dial, there had arisen before him, with perfect certitude, the knowledge ‘about this time tomorrow you will have done the impossible.’ The same thing happened now. His fear, his shame, his love, all his arguments, were not altered in the least. The thing was neither more nor less dreadful than it had been before. The only difference was that he knew– almost as a historical proposition– that it was going to be done. He might beg, weep, or rebel– might curse or adore– sing like a martyr or blaspheme like a devil. It made not the slightest difference. The thing was to be done.”