im reading a semi autobiographical fiction of a Jewish student written in 1920's Romania (For Two Thousand Years) and I love this passage of him responding to being propagandized by his two roommates, a Zionist and a Marxist, who argue constantly except on their shared efforts to evangelize at the main character
Look, you're worn out. Stop, sit still for an hour. Look around. Touch this and observe that it's a bit of stone. Hold this in your hand and know it's a piece of wood. Look, a horse, a table, a hat. Believe in these things, live with them, get used to regarding them normally. Return to these sure, simple things, resign yourself to living with them, with their low horizons in their modest families. And look around, entrust yourself to the seasons, to hunger, to thirst: life will get along fine with you, as it calmly does with a tree or an animal"
Most poetic way to say "touch grass bro" I've ever seen