By the way, do you know the joys of being alone, walking alone, lying in the sun alone? Which doesn’t mean I have anything against doing things in twos, and not much against doing them in threes. But what a joy it is for the tormented, for heart and head! Do you know what I mean? Have you ever walked a long way by yourself? The ability to enjoy it presupposes a great deal of past misery as well as past joys. As a boy I was alone a lot, but it was more from force of circumstance, rarely from choice. Now, however, I rush toward being alone as rivers rush toward the sea. — Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice. (Schocken; Pbk ed. edition December 6, 2016) Originally published 1967.