I acquired expensive habits and affected manners. I got a third-class degree and a first-class illusion: that I was a poet. But nothing could have been less poetic than my seeing-through-all boredom with life in general and with making a living in general. I was too green to know that all cynicism masks a failure to cope-an impotence, in short; and that to despise all effort is the greatest effort all. But I did absorb a small dose of one particular thing, Oxford’s greatest gift to civilized life: Socratic honesty. It showed me, very intermittently, that it is not enough to revolt against one’s past. The truth was I was not a cynic by nature; only by revolt. I had got away from what I hated, but I hadn’t found out where I loved, and so I pretended that there was nowhere to love.
John Fowles, “The Magus”, 1977.
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 