Experience is singular and yet our understanding of it is plural, assembled out of well-worn links and clues that have already been turned over a thousand times. The weariness that comes flooding in when the absurd project of overcoming plurality is put aside is one of life's timeless constituents. And the understanding that is expressed in such dualities as singular and plural, energy and weariness, that pits one of them against the other in a romantic quest for selfhood is just a child crying after the moon.