Long ago, I lived alone in my mountain shanty beside my lake in Maine. The lake provided fish. The forest provided small game and berries. I had my books. I had solitude. I avoided contact with the outside world in Bar Harbor except as I needed food, clothing, some few tools, and more books...all of which I borrowed from those in the town. Eventually, each of the books was returned. I didn't dislike people. I just did not need...