'"It is a disease that attacks people when they find they cannot reconcile the economy of the world with their preconceived notions of what it ought to be. At your age, weltschmerz ought to be cured by copious doses of "iron". At mine, it cures itself; for I can afford to acknowledge that it is a hard, miserable world, and yet that I love it. It has done me plenty of bad turns, and yet I take an interest in it and its fortunes. I once wished to show it its errors, and tried to reclaim it from some of them; but it left me sitting by the roadside and went its way. And so I gave up trying to improve it mentally, but I do so physically whenever I get a chance, hoping that moral improvement may come after..."'
from Helene by Mrs Arthur Kennard (Volume I, Chapter XII)
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