"It comes as welcome relief to learn that [Eliot] was also afraid of heights, that he liked Groucho Marx, and that he so dreaded making idle conversation that he would often hide in the bathroom at Faber and Faber instead of walking out with a colleague." - Lake, Book Reviews

Why is it that whenever you play a song you really like for someone, it never sounds as good as it did when you were alone? It's because the highs are higher and the lows lower when you're alone. This is because when you're alone, you can devote up to ninety-eight percent of your attention to the stimulus at hand. When you're with other people, some portion of your attention must go to them, wondering what they are thinking, knowing their experience is in part your responsibility—either that or just thinking about having sex with them. Favorite song? You don't even know what's playing!

And when you can truly be happy around someone else, it must be because there's some special connection between the two of you. Or perhaps that person has simply become familiar. Familiar as that little dent in your car door, which was so upsetting at the time. It's still there. Don't worry, it doesn't remember your birthday either. Anyway, the point is there is no connection between you and anyone. You're really better off without them. We've decided you're capable of your most efficient work when you're alone. That's why offices have doors, people wear clothes and the U.S. economy dominates. Even if we are one big disparate and tense balloon.