Drowning as I Look for True Sentences

When one has plunged into the depths of the written word, any optimistic vision he might have taken with him is soon dashed upon the rocks, and he finds himself enduring, by the day and week, a deluge of half-formed, or angst-driven thought, and conjuring, hastily, entire scrolls of theory and reflection, to be thrown out like life preservers in this raging sea. When such a one as this, that is, comes across a true sentence, constructed as messily or as succinctly as needs be, to get its idea, its movement, across, the whole rushing whirlwind he has been swept up in suddenly calms, and the storm evaporates almost before it has come to a stop.

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