To labor at living and be paid is worse than to be dead. He who delights the most, lives the most, and your dreams and unrealities are less disturbing to you and most gratifying than are my facts to me. He shook his head slowly, pondering. I often doubt the worthwhileness of reason. Dreams must be more substantial and satisfying.
Emotional delight is followed by no more than jaded senses, which speedily recuperate.
I envy you, I envy you. My reason dictates it. The envy is an intellectual product. You are blessed, bankrupt pair of fools. You have no facts in your pocketbook.