I keep coming back

I’m reading My Life by Anton Chekhov, or even better, the life and times of Eamon O’Neill. -I only say this because Eamon expressed the same opinion. And, frankly it’s a hard read.
What makes it so, is that even though you intimately know the struggles that plague, and can see past, around and beyond them, the relentless foundation of our belief and integrity is pulled asunder by the real thing.
If say, right and wrong are clear. Then the ones who are the deciders get to determine and  make the decisions that will effect us on every level.
It may be obvious, but when it seems to have adverse effects far more regularly then the other outcome, one may get a little wary of the percentages.
One thing I expressed about Chekhov writing about the genius losers, is that he may be eloquent, direct and accurate in his descriptions of the class war and how it can be broken down. Yet, in order for him to have the vantage point, he had to be above it, and that, changes the entire picture.