Once again fear, and mystery, swept over me...I was infinitely far from home. The profoundest distances are never geographical... - John Fowles

The profoundest distances are never geographical.

I'm only happy when I forget to exist. When just my eyes or my ears or my skin exist.

The writing was impeccably neat and legible though rather crabbed into the centre of the page; I saw a neat crabbed man behind it. Presumably some sort of retreat, one of those desiccated young Catholics that used to mince around Oxford when I was an undergraduate.

He makes me change, he makes me want to dance round him, bewilder him, dazzle him, dumbfound him. He' so slow, so unimaginative, so lifeless. Like zinc white. I see it's a sort of tyranny he has over me. He forces me to be changeable, to act. To show off. The hateful tyranny of weak people.

G.P. said it once.

The ordinary man is the curse of civilization.