When I watch HAMLET or OTHELLO, I say to myself:
'This stuff is nicely riveted together. But, in the first place, the
story is not true. And secondly, it is no affair of mine. Why cry about
it?'"
"That looks as if you were heartless and unimaginative. And you so
compassionate! I do not understand you. I do not understand myself
either. We are always groping about in the dark, are we not? We are
always puzzling about our own problems instead of helping other people
with theirs. Perhaps one should not think so much of oneself, though it
is an interesting subject. Tell me, if music says nothing to you, why
not leave it alone?"
"Because I want to be able to extract pleasure from it, as you do. That
is what makes me curious. I like to understand things, because then I
can begin to enjoy them. I think knowledge should intensify our
pleasures. That is its aim and object, so far as I am concerned. What
are other joys--those of the illiterate and incurious? A dog scratching
his fleas in the sunshine.
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