“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth;
whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul;
whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses,
and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet;
and especially when my hypos get such an upper hand of me,
that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off-
then, I account it high time to get to a bookstore as soon as I can.
That is my substitute for the pistol and ball.”
―
Herman Melville,
Moby-Dick or, The Whale
