But why do we appreciate no less the opposite work which the artist is doing?
Might we not answer that this enjoyment of the artistic work results from the fact that only in contact with an isolated experience can we feel perfectly happy?
Whatever we meet in life or nature awakes in us desires, impulses to action, suggestions and questions which must be answered.

Life is a continuous striving.

Nothing is an end in itself and therefore nothing is a source of complete rest.
Everything is a stimulus to new wishes, a source of new uneasiness which longs for new satisfaction in the next and again the next thing.

Life pushes us forward.

Yet sometimes a touch of nature comes to us; we are stirred by a thrill of life which awakens plenty of impulses but which offers satisfaction to all these impulses in itself.