There's a hole in reality

“What is it you want?”
“I’ve tried to think,” said Doc. “I want to take everything I’ve seen and thought and learned and reduce them and relate them and refine them until I have something of meaning, something of use. And I can’t seem to do it.”
“Maybe you aren’t ready. And maybe you need help.”
“What kind of help?”
“There are some things a man can’t do alone. I wouldn’t think of trying anything so big without-“ He stopped. The heavy waves beat the hard beach, and the yellow light of the setting sun illuminated a cloud to the eastward, a clot of gold.
“Without what?” Doc asked.
“Without love,” said the seer.


John Steinbeck, Sweet Thursday