As surely as you are a living man, so surely did that spectral anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in my face, and walk away with my trousers: nor was I able to spring from my bed, or break the chain which seemed to bind me to my pillow.
It turns out there’s only one thing that capuchins really, really love – and that’s sweet stuff. If you give them a big vat of say, marshmallow fluff, and you let them go at it.
If the distance between ourselves and others becomes too great, we experience isolation and alienation, yet if the proximity to others becomes too close, we feel smothered and trapped.
