If on occasions I appear to you as remorseless, then maybe I really am remorseless; worse, I have no feelings, no compassion whatsoever; I am an animal and at everything beautiful or tragic I look on with the cold, indifferent eyes of an animal. I have no become an animal by chance or by mistake; no, I have trained myself to become an animal. You see, when you’ve figured that being upset is no fun at all, and you want to stop feeling upset, you just will yourself to. You find methods of chasing away the unhappiness; and so soon does nothing matter to you anymore; everything comes as they do, and nothing really matters. The only thing that matters is happiness; if it’s not happiness, then you’re not going to feel it; it might as well be a pinching gust of wind.