“‘Are you going through Spain to Paris?’ That question was bandied about the ship day and night from Fayal to Gibraltar, and I thought I never could get so tired of hearing any one combination of words again or more tired of answering, ‘I don’t know.’ At the last moment six or seven had sufficient decision of character to make up their minds to go, and did go, and I felt a sense of relief at once — it was forever too late now and I could make up my mind at my leisure not to go. I must have a prodigious quantity of mind; it takes me as much as a week sometimes to make it up.”
–Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad
I am so glad that my summer semester of Modern Drama has given way at last to the fall semester of Mark Twain. Twain and I are going to be excellent friends, are bound to be, if for no other reason than that he is not a modern dramatist. Additionally, though, I feel kin to him in having a similarly prodigious quantity of mind.