Again, my behavior is temperamental;
It merely indicates that I'm a romantic,
Not a conceited prig who now likes and
Then dislikes what is known as Life,
And then proceeds to justify
What is genuine in him.

That is just as well, for I must take
Some sort of attitude toward lifetime
To justify myself as an intelligent man.
I grope for reasons, and begin to tell
Some little anecdotes, trifles of life
Or casual words of conversations. . .

Telling some things of importance,
I make myself a philosopher and
Become, with great equanimity,
Either our life's implacable critic,
Allowing nothing good for it, or
Else it ardent and romantic admirer.

Such generalization is rather silly indeed.
But that is how my opinion is formed and
Expanded all over the world, and it is unavoidable.
Then I set about arguing with others;
Some always come out from the argument
Supremely satisfied of their rightness
And self-assured that they have an opinion of life.