The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

no virtues more highly prized in Japan than
indifference to politics and devotion to the team.
“You can graduate with the highest marks in your
class, but you have to have a sort of vague stupidity
that puts people at their ease. Like a kite full of wind.
“I’ll tell you about money once you’re in prep school.
You’re in the happy position for the moment of not
having to worry about it.”
As he lectured to the attentive Tōru, Honda had the
feeling that these were really instructions for Kiyoaki
and Isao and Ying Chan.
Yes, he should have spoken to them. He should
have armed them with the foreknowledge that would
keep them from flinging themselves after their
destinies, take away their wings, keep them from
soaring, make them march in step with the crowd. The
world does not approve of flying. Wings are
dangerous weapons. They invite self-destruction
before they can be used. If he had brought Isao to
terms with the fools, then he could have pretended
that he knew nothing of wings.
He had only to say to people: “His wings are an
accessory. You needn’t trouble yourself about them.
Just keep company with him for a while, and you’ll see
that he’s an ordinary, reliable boy.” Such tidings could
have been remarkably effective.