A FOREWORD
If one seek love and go towards it directly, or as directly as one may in the midst of the perplexities of modern life, one is perhaps insane.
Have you not known a moment when to do what would seem at other times and under somewhat different circumstances the most trivial of acts becomes suddenly a gigantic undertaking.
You are in the hallway of a house. Before you is a closed door and beyond the door, sitting in a chair by a window, is a man or woman.
It is late in the afternoon of a summer day and your purpose is to step to the door, open it, and say, “It is not my intention to continue living in this house. My trunk is packed and in an hour a man, to whom I have already spoken, will come for it. I have only come to say that I will not be able to live near you any longer.”
There you are, you see, standing in the hallway, and you are to go into the room and say these few words. The house is silent and you stand for a long time in the hallway, afraid, hesitant, silent. In a dim way you realize that when you came down into the hallway from the floor above you came a-tiptoe.
For you and the one beyond the door it is perhaps better that you do not continue living in the house. On that you would agree if you could but talk sanely of the matter. Why are you unable to talk sanely?
Why has it become so difficult for you to take the three steps towards the door? You have no disease of the legs. Why are your feet so heavy?
You are a young man. Why do your hands tremble like the hands of an old man?
You have always thought of yourself as a man of courage. Why are you suddenly so lacking in courage?
Is it amusing or tragic that you know you will be unable to step to the door, open it, and going inside say the few words, without your voice trembling?
Are you sane or are you insane? Why this whirlpool of thoughts within your brain, a whirlpool of thoughts that, as you now stand hesitant, seem to be sucking you down and down into a bottomless pit?