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But this is sophistry too in a way; for the deep pleasure in the making and keeping of an enemy lies not in his redeeming social value but in the peculiar passion he lends to life. There is simply no force in nature like him, none that can so suck the oxygen from the air, so tighten the skin about the ears, so clench the fists, sweat the palms, so press the tongue against the mouth's roof or stretch the nerves Like piano wires. His concentration on you is total. He cares more about your welfare than you do yourself, and he asks so little in return. Only that you continue as you are and that you offer him the same consideration.
See. Here he comes now. Do you ever feel quite this way with anyone else? Does anybody's smile or greeting affect you as his does? The earth rumbles under his step, horses rear, roses wilt, the stars themselves cool in the dark. It is hard to believe a mere mortal could cause such turmoil. But there you are. —By Roger Rosenblatt