"The transcendental point of view, the habit of thought bred by communion with earth and sky, had refined the grain while it had roughened the husk."

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The solitary and thoughtful stroller finds a singular intoxication in this universal communion. The man who loves to lose himself in a crowd enjoys feverish delights that the egoist locked up in himself as in a box, and the slothful man like a mollusk in his shell, will be eternally deprived of. He adopts as his own all the occupations, all the joys and all the sorrows that chance offers.

— Charles Baudelaire