Dangling in space I realised I could always slip out of the harness. I looked forward to the peace of the great release.
Fallen into a crevasse:
Exhausted, weak and chilled (for my hands were bare and pounds of snow had got inside my clothing) I hung with firm conviction that all was over except the passing. Below was a black chasm; it would be but the work of the moment to slip from the harness, then all the pain and toil would be over. It was a rare situation, a rare temptation ? a chance to quit small things for great ? to pass from the petty exploration of a planet to the contemplation of vaster worlds beyond. But there was all eternity for the last and, at its longest, the present would be but short. I felt better for the thought.