I was just now reading this book after owning it for a long time. I had aquired it from a relationship gone bad and from a life of constant moving and unrest it never got unpacked until three years and two relationships later. I had glanced at the cover while digging in my boxes for other things but never really decided to give it a try. I am really glad that I did because life makes a little more sense now. It is helping me understand why I am in constant yearning of, not so much "knowledge" but "experience". I travel a lot and I don't have friends for more than a couple years and when I move it is very rare that I keep friends. I am like an alien that moves from planet to planet all different from each other and I mold myslef to a particular group created by the locals. From which I tire and carry experience and traits on to the next planet. Relationships have stopped since my last meaningless one and now I know why they all have felt so meaningless and could very well remain meaningless. All from this verse in Siddhartha by Herman Hesse:
"Maybe," said Siddhartha wearily. "I am like you. You cannot love either, otherwise how could you practice love as an art? Perhaps, people like us cannot love. Ordinary people can-that is their secret."