He never succeeded in his attempts to whistle. He is a great
smoker, and has at times drunk much. He likes riding, skating,
and climbing, but is a poor horseman, and is clumsy with his
hands. He has no capacity for the fine arts and music, though
much interested in them, and is a prolific author.
He has suffered extremely throughout life, owing to his sense of
the difference between himself and normal human beings. No
pleasure he has enjoyed, he declares, can equal a thousandth
part of the pain caused by the internal consciousness of
pariahdom. The utmost he can plead in his own defense, he admits,
is irresponsibility, for he acknowledges that his impulse may be
morbid. But he feels absolutely certain that in early life his
health was ruined and his moral repose destroyed owing to the
perpetual conflict with his own inborn nature, and that relief
and strength came with indulgence. Although he always has before
him the terror of discovery, he is convinced that his sexual
dealings with men have been thoroughly wholesome to himself,
largely increasing his physical, moral, and intellectual energy,
and not injurious to others.
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