If you turn to big names like Shakespeare, da Vinci, or, Godwin’s law notwithstanding,
Hitler—the ultimate evil—to define a point of reference from which to move the absolute
blandness underlying our tedious yet convenient inadequacy, there is a risk of throwing
yourself at Newton’s flaming laser sword of a sort. But even if you abandon the trenches
to be content with the contemplation of the Bavarian gentians, your obliging neighbour
will get his hands on you eventually.
hidden pilcrow 