Everyone in Jareth’s realm was an island. If you did something for someone else, it was never an act of kindness but of calculation, an investment that would return a percentage when you called on it. The verb “to give” was considered obscene, and was scrawled on lavatory walls. The verb “to love” connoted nothing but desire. You stood on your own two feet, and if you could stand on somebody else’s feet at the same time and reach higher in the fruit tree, you were doing all right, which was better than doing good. How much envy you could command from others was the measure of your success.
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