Lavengro - The torments of a young man.

Well, but I am only eighteen, and I have not stated all that I have done; I have learnt many other tongues, and have acquired some knowledge even of Hebrew and Arabic.  Should I go on in this way till I am forty, I must then be very learned; and perhaps, among other things, may have translated the Talmud, and some of the great works of the Arabians.  Pooh! all this is mere learning and translation, and such will never secure immortality.  Translation is at best an echo, and it must be a wonderful echo to be heard after the lapse of a thousand years.  No! all I have already done, and all I may yet do in the same way, I may reckon as nothing—mere pastime; something else must be done.  I must either write some grand original work, or conquer an empire; the one just as easy as the other.  But am I competent to do either?  Yes, I think I am, under favourable circumstances.  Yes, I think I may promise myself a reputation of a thousand years, if I do but give myself the necessary trouble.  Well! but what’s a thousand years after all, or twice a thousand years?  Woe is me!  I may just as well sit still.