“We live together, we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are by ourselves. The matyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraces; the lovers desperately to fuse their insulated ecstacies into a single self-transcendence, in vain. By its very nature, every embodied spririt is doomed to suffer and enjoy solitude. Sensations, feelings, insights, fancies – all these are private and, except through symbols and at second hand, incommunicable.”

-The Doors of Perception, Aldous Huxley