This is finally loneliness: wrapping yourself in the silk of your soul, getting chrysalis and waiting for metamorphosis, which you cannot miss. Meanwhile you live of your own experiences and telepathically you live other people’s life […].Finally you only own yourself. Other people’s thoughts don’t control mine anymore; opinions, other people’s tantrums don’t upset me anymore. Now the soul starts to mature in regained freedom and I feel an immense inner peace, a serene pleasure, a sense of certainty and responsibility. If I reflect on the social life that should be some kind of gym, I can’t now but judge it other than a school of vices. If you carry a sense of beauty, being forced to see ugliness is a real torture, which deceitfully drives you to consider yourself a martyr. Closing your eyes to injustice just because of it teaches you little by little to become a hypocrite. Getting used to constantly suppressing your opinions and always because of it, makes you vile. August Strindberg, ′′ Alone ′′