Ambrose Bierce(1842–1914?) · The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, Volume V · Black Beetles in Amber · 1911?
My days all are wasted in vainly Contesting the field against Fate; My nights with remorses insanely Are swarming, and spectres of hate.
“O for rest! O for peace!” I cry madly— “Let me fall, for I faint in the strife. To be dead, to be dead, I’d give gladly All, all that I have, except life.”