We agree to fixed moralities and then, unthinking, we transgress, or with “good cause” offend, and there we are, the first dull bars of misery draw stealthily behind us.
And as we wander on, transgressing more, agreeing to new mores and then transgressing those, we come into that sunless place, the prison of our tears and sighs and might-have-beens, unhappiness.
Mutual action is the key to all our overt acts. (Overt acts are wrongful acts of omission or commission.) Agreement to what ought to be and then a shattering of the troth works all the spell that’s needed for a recipe of misery.
There must be pain. So we agreed. For pain restrains and warns, shuts off, forbids. But goodness now must then consist of bringing in no pain.
Mutual motion is agreed. And then we disagree and part and so are tied no more—tied not, save back there in our minds, with scars of broken faith. The faith we broke, and said it had to be.