“I think that this feigning, this ceaseless pretense of interest in matters to me supremely boring, was what wore me out more than anything else. If the reader will picture himself, unarmed, shut up for thirteen weeks on end, night and day, in a society of fanatical golfers — or, if he is a golfer himself, let him substitute fishermen, theosophists, bimetallists, Baconians, or German undergraduates with a taste for autobiography — who all carry revolvers and will probably shoot him if he ever seems to lose interest in their conversation, he will have an idea of my school life.”

— C.S. Lewis (1898-1963)
Surprised by Joy, 1956