Steinbeck wrote that there are those who must live in rooms of experience that the rest of us can never enter--perhaps we should quit trying to intrude into these places, and simply learn to guard the door.
Indeed, maybe Dylan put it in best perspective:
I received your letter yesterday,
about the time the doorknob broke;
When you asked how I was doing,
was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention,
I know them; they're quite lame.
I had to rearrange their faces
and give them all another name.
But right now, I can't read too good;
don't send me no more letters, no--
Not unless you're mailing them
from Desolation Row.
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