The realization that my problem was one that concerned all men, a problem of living and thinking, suddenly swept over me and I was overwhelmed by fear and respect as I suddenly saw and felt how deeply my own personal life and opinions were immersed in the eternal stream of great ideas. Though it offered some confirmation and gratification, the realization was not really a joyful one. It was hard and had a harsh taste because it implied responsibility and no longer being allowed to be a child; it meant standing on one’s own feet.
Herman HesseAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: deutsch
- Born: July 2, 1877
- Died: August 9, 1962
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She saw herself riding in the passenger seat, Sam behind the wheel. Like two of those little peg people in a toy car. Husband peg, wife peg, side by side. Facing the road and not looking at each other; for why would they need to, really, having gone beyond the visible surface long ago. No hope of admiring gazes anymore, no chance of unremitting adoration. Nothing left to show but their plain, true, homely, interior selves, which were actually much richer anyhow.
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I was moving in a narrow range between busy distractedness and a pervasive sadness whose granules seemed to enter each cell, weighing it down, one grain per cell, just enough in sum that I walked with head lowered, shoulders rolled into a slump, feet shuffling . . . . I ghosted between islands of anxiety . . . and a fatigue that dulled my zest, decanted it. Sorrow felt like a marble coat I couldn't shed. [pp. 152-153]
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