I was a-trembling, because I'd got

I was a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then I says to myself: "All right then, I'll go to hell" [...] It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. (Twain 214)