his own especial idol there is for him a brief
resting-place; and for this he clings passionately
to it.

Few have the courage even slowly to face
the great desolateness which lies outside themselves,
and must lie there so long as they cling
to the person which they represent, the "I"
which is to them the centre of the world, the
cause of all life. In their longing for a God
they find the reason for the existence of one;
in their desire for a sense-body and a world to
enjoy in, lies to them the cause of the universe.
These beliefs may be hidden very deep beneath
the surface, and be indeed scarcely accessible;
but in the fact that they are there is the reason
why the man holds himself upright. To himself
he is himself the infinite and the God; he
holds the ocean in a cup. In this delusion he
nurtures the egoism which makes life pleasure
and makes pain pleasant. In this profound
egoism is the very cause and source of the
existence of pleasure and of pain. For unless
man vacillated between these two, and ceaselessly
reminded himself by sensation that he
exists, he would forget it. And in this fact lies
the whole answer to the question, "Why does
man create pain for his own discomfort?"

The strange and mysterious fact remains