A young man is so strong, so mad, so certain, and so lost. He has everything and he is able to use nothing. He hurls the great shoulder of his strength forever against phantasmal-barriers, he is a wave whose power explodes in lost mid – oceans under timeless skies, here-aches out to grip a fume of painted smoke, he wants all, feels the thirst and power for-everything, and finally gets nothing. In the end, he is destroyed by his own strength, devoured by his own hunger, impoverished by his own wealth. Thoughtless of money or the accumulation of material possessions, he is none the less defeated in the end by his own greed a greed that makes the avarice of King Midas seem paltry by comparison.
And that is the reason why, when youth is gone, every man will look back upon that period of his life with infinite sorrow and regret. It is the bitter sorrow and regret of a man who knows that once he had a great talent and wasted it , of a man who knows that once he had a great treasure and got nothing from it , of a man who knows that he had strength enough for everything and never used it.
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