I’m glad that the world isn’t as lazy as I am; doesn’t bear an aversion toward all things for which they have no interest. If they did, if they like me chose always to slumber in indolence whenever passion lacked, if they like me suspended themselves in high-mindedness and stubbornly refused the menial shovel, no project shall ever reach its end. We would all be visionaries in our right, knighted by the sword of our pride, pointing a firm finger at the sky and exclaiming: there is where we shall pierce! But there we shall never reach. We look about us and proclaim this mighty dream, hoping that our imagination would inspire the countless souls and therein instigate a rush of willing bricklayers. But none comes. The spiral at the top is all we can see, and all that we will concede to working hard for. In our desperation for that astounding height, for that prestige of meeting the heavens, we fail to realize what is of greatest importance: the base. And what we take to be trivial affairs we will naturally be reluctant to do. Such a world would realize nothing, would achieve nothing but a hollow dream – an astronomical idea trapped in a wormhole of sloth.