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But at this stage in our relationship I took it for granted that our views on all such matters were the same. The impression was heightened by the discussions we had after Mies had read Schrodinger's book, "What is Life?" I sent him that disciplined, lucid treatise by an eminent physicist, thinking that whatever might be his metaphysical views, he could only admire a kind of heroic abstemiousness in Schrodinger's reduction of life to observable crystals, organic or inorganic. This crossed outwecrossed out turned out to be true, and on the occasion of our next evening with Mies, Jim and I found him limping heavily up and down the living room, obviously greatly agitated. "Don't you approve of the Scroedinger book, Mies? You seem so upset." "It is unspiritual. What about man and his hopes for immortality?" Does he think I can sit staring at the snowflakes on the window or the salt crystals on the dinner table and be satisfied? I want to know what I