I can only take so much of New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd’s rants, she of the snarky one-track leftist mind. But she hit on something in her recent column, Silence is Golden:
Hello chatter, my old friend.
The sounds of silence are a dim recollection now, like mystery, privacy and paying attention to one thing — or one person — at a time.
As far back as half-a-century ago, the Swiss philosopher Max Picard warned: “Nothing has changed the nature of man so much as the loss of silence,” once as natural as the sky and air.
I’ve long thought that the most critical luxuries of life—necessities, really—were silence and solitude, both of which are harder to find.