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Outrageous, we are sufficient unto ourselves!  Not entirely unexpectedly (or unwished-for), the reproach reaches our ears that we are depending solely on ourselves (you, me, the baby). That we want to produce greatness out of the smallness of our world. What truth about the world could possibly come from Three, when three million know so little! Do we intend to cast doubt on the security of tradition? Every thought, every experience needs a foundation in which it is anchored. Without the words of great poets and thinkers nothing can be conceived, or experienced. And so forth. Reproaches can be spun indefinitely. Then we realize: We ourselves are making them. Therefore nothing is easier than to reject them ourselves! (All this because we forgot to receive instruction with a glance at our baby. He does not believe in reproaches.)