We both liked to spend our leisure in the open air, he shooting, I ski-ing. … But then? Peter thought me too serious and I did not understand British humour (a serious a fault in the eyes of an Englishman as is it for a Chinaman to “lose face”). I had the bad taste to lay down the law about the art of living. Peter was bored by my craving to understand the thousands of diverse lives that make up humanity and bored, too, by my need to relate my own life to life in general. How could anybody be so crazy as to want to find out whether men’s efforts brought about an improvement in human nature? Peter was troubled by none of these things. In his imperturbable wisdom he looked on human beings as characters in a comedy.
E. Maillart, Forbidden journey (1935), 161-2
A digital form of the sadly lost fashion for copying out memorable passages from texts. I kept losing my actual book.
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