is forged little by little, in the folds of the spirit, tangential to reason, shielded from indiscreet eyes, not seeking the approval of others — who would never grant it — until it is at last put into practice. I imagine that in the process — the conceiving of a project and its ripening into action — the saint, the visionary, or the madman isolates himself more and more, walling himself up in solitude, safe from the intrusion of others