Whenevertwo people meet there are really six people present. There is each man as he seeshimself, each man as the other sees him, and each man as he really is.
Ialways cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think,well, if they attack one personally, it means they have not a singlepolitical argument left.
Thetorment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause,is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangledmind’ leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
