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.
Twoprisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on thewall. The wall is the thing which separates them but is also their means ofcommunication. It is the same with us and God. Every separation is a link.
The tormentof human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that theself is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangled mind’ leaking away in lonely,wasteful self-conflict.
