One Has The Idea Of A Stupid

A Solitary, Unused To Speaking Of What He Sees And Feels, Has Mental Experiences Which Are At Once More Intense And Less Articulate Than Those Of A Gregarious Man.

For To Be Poised Against Fatality, To Meet Adverse Conditions Gracefully, Is More Than Simple Endurance; It Is An Act Of Aggression, A Positive Triumph.

Nothing Is More Curious And Awkward Than The Relationship Of Two People Who Only Know Each Other With Their Eyes — Who Meet And Observe Each Other Daily, Even Hourly And Who Keep Up The Impression Of Disinterest Either Because Of Morals Or Because Of A Mental Abnormality. Between Them There Is Listlessness And Pent-up Curiosity, The Hysteria Of An Unsatisfied, Unnaturally Suppressed Need For Communion And Also A Kind Of Tense Respect. Because Man Loves And Honors Man As Long As He Is Not Able To Judge Him, And Desire Is A Product Of Lacking Knowledge.

War Is Only A Cowardly Escape From The Problems Of Peace.

Is Not Life In Itself A Thing Of Goodness, Irrespective Of Whether The Course It Takes For Us Can Be Called A 'happy' One?