“Turn to the left, then bear right, and you will touch the intangible, you will reach the inaccessibly remote tracts of which one never knows anything on this earth except the direction.”
For in this world of ours where everything withers, everything perishes, there is a thing that decays, that crumbles into dust even more completely, leaving behind still fewer traces of itself, than beauty: namely grief.
Though others may know more of the truth about us than we think, they may also stretch it too far and fall into the error of supposing too much, whereas we had hoped that they made the mistake of supposing nothing at all.
But this was merely an instance of the law that a person is many different persons according to who is judging him, quite apart from the different standards by which different people judge.
Good breeding, whatever else one may think of it, is a symptom of formidable mental shackles.