Distance In A Straight Line

It Is Most Certainly A Good Thing That The World Knows Only The Beautiful Opus But Not Its Origins, Not The Conditions Of Its Creation; For If People Knew The Sources Of The Artist's Inspiration, That Knowledge Would Often Confuse Them, Alarm Them, And Thereby Destroy The Effects Of Excellence. Strange Hours! Strangely Enervating Labor! Bizarrely Fertile Intercourse Of The Mind With A Body!

The Observations And Encounters Of A Devotee Of Solitude And Silence Are At Once Less Distinct And More Penetrating Than Those Of The Sociable Man; His Thoughts Are Weightier, Stranger, And Never Without A Tinge Of Sadness. Images And Perceptions Which Might Otherwise Be Easily Dispelled By A Glance, A Laugh, An Exchange Of Comments, Concern Him Unduly, They Sink Into Mute Depths, Take On Significance, Become Experiences, Adventures, Emotions.

We Do Not Fear Being Called Meticulous, Inclining As We Do To The View That Only The Exhaustive Can Be Truly Interesting.

People's Behavior Makes Sense If You Think About It In Terms Of Their Goals, Needs, And Motives.

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