The comfort of staying in the warm house on a frigid winter night is, of course, irresistibly tempting, but when it is placed on a balance with the pleasure of music, dance, or theater, even if I have to bundle up and persevere the blistery wind to get to the place where performance is given, the latter outweighs the former. When the balance tips in the other direction and I start to find more satisfaction in the passive pleasure of comfort than in the comfort of active pleasure, I will know that my body is no longer young, claim as I may otherwise in spirit.
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