To become a muse for a disorienting movement. To chronicle civilizational massacre. To gather more experiences than might be collated into a particular historical epoch’s particularized blooming neurosis.

Because all the hollow men, the stuffed men, could not bring themselves to give honest answers to the questions:

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
What is your greatest fear?
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Which living person do you most admire?

And instead caught trains to Trieste and Zurich and spread the feverish din of original declamations.