What moves him was this proof of the destructibility of things; everything exacted its price in the end, and perhaps happiness exacted it more cruelly than its opposite.
Was it better then – measuring the loss – not to know happiness at all? Better to go through life waiting for what never came, because that way you had less to mourn?
Could that be why Treslove so often found himself alone? Was he protecting himself against the companioned happiness he longed for because he dreaded how he would feel when it was taken from him?
Or was the loss he dreaded precisely the happiness he craved?
Thinking about the causes of his tears only made him cry even more.
Howard Jacobson in The Finkler Question