Benson was not an unintelligent man, but he was a simple man. [His son] Ace was much quicker, and more widely read, and Benson had been aware of that gap for about five years now. Whenever he began his cautions against intellectualism, he knew how lame it sounded. He didn’t like it, but didn’t know what else to do, or say.

After their conversations, Ace would be unsettled too, but for different reasons. He would work through the arguments again in his mind, and could not see any alternatives to the way he had gone. And he was constantly mystified by the things his father would say and then go and do. The arguments were watertight, and his father’s thinking was not watertight.

And yet, now … an irrational desire to be irrational went over his head like a wave. He knew he had no moves. If he just surrendered, all would be well. If he continued to struggle, there would be nothing but … well, nothing but struggle. Struggle in every direction. A world of struggle.

–Ride, Sally, Ride, by Douglas Wilson, pp. 85 – 86