One may say that true life begins where the tiny bit begins - where what seem to us minute and infinitely small alterations take place. True life is not lived where great external changes take place - where people move about, clash, fight, and slay one another - it is lived only where these tiny, tiny infinitesimally small changes occur.
"Why Do Men Stupefy Themselves?" p.197 Tolstoy's polemic against what he saw as the "escapes" of alcohol and narcotics, translated by Aylmer Maude
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