But here here he seemed to divine something new. He had been coming to it, all hesitating, for some time, but only now was concious of the fact; he felt himself on the brink of a discovery. He felt vaguely that here was something better than the realism which he had adopted; but certainly it was not the bloodless idealism which stepped aside from life in weakness; it was too strong, it was virile; it accepted life in all its vivacity, ugliness and beauty, squalor and heroism; it was realism still; but it was realism carried to some higher pitch, in which facts were transformed by the more vivid light in which they were seen.

He seemed to see that a man need not leave his life to chance, but that his will was powerful; he seemed to see that self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion; he seemed to see that the inward life might be as manifold, as varied, as rich with experience, as the life of one who conquered realms and explored unknown lands.

w. somerset maugham, OF HUMAN BONDAGE