Those of us who live in towns have learned to adjust ourselves to some degree to the kind of overcrowding which seems to be an inevitable consequence of city life；but the closer we are packed, the more easily resentful of each other do we tend to become. It is probably on this account that many people find life in cities irritating and exhausting, since they are compelled to control aggressive impulses which arise solely as a result of overcrowding. It is also probable that it is because of the wider spacing between individuals which is usual in the countryside that rural folk are less tense, more friendly and often better mannered than urban people.
Not long ago a teacher told me that her best students feel that it is no longer necessary to write anything. She said they think that everything can be done with figures now, and that what can’t be done with figures isn’t worth doing. I think this is a natural belief for a generation that has been made to feel that the aim of learning is to eliminate mystery.
Probably the most common thing which readers get out of a story is what happens in that story. If you ask them later what the story is about, they will give you not a summary of what the story means but only its main events. This, for example, is what you did in high school whenever you were required to turn in a book report.
While speech is more effective in rapid and easy communication with people who are present, it is writing which makes possible effective communication over time and space. It is writing which permits us to build on the knowledge acquired in the past, so that it is not necessary to rediscover everything anew with every generation.
One of the first things most people want to hear discussed in relation to composing is the question of inspiration. They find it difficult to believe that composers are not as preoccupied with the question as they have supposed. The layman always finds it hard to realize how natural it is for the composers to compose.