"My friends stood in a line and waved good-bye as long as they could see my back."
"It was early on the morning of March the twenty-seventh that I took to the road.
There was darkness lingering in the sky, and the moon was still visible, though
gradually thinning away. The faint shadow of Mount Fuji and the cherry blossoms
of Ueno and Yanaka were bidding me a last farewell. My friends had got together
the night before, and they all came with me on the boat to keep me company for
the first few miles. When we got off the boat at Senju, however, the thought of
three thousand miles before me suddenly filled my heart, and neither the houses
of the town nor the faces of my friends could be seen by my tearful eyes except
as a vision…"