I was often sick. This circumstance perhaps accounts for something
that others call my patience but that actually bears no resemblance to a virtue:
the predilection for seeing everything I care about approach me from a
distance, the way the hours approached my sickbed. Thus, when I am
traveling, I lose the best part of my pleasure if I cannot wait a long time in the
station for my train. And this likewise explains why giving presents has
become a passion with me: as the giver, I foresee long in advance what
surprises the recipient. In fact, my need to look forward to what is coming –
all the while sustained by a period of waiting, as a sick person is supported by
pillows at his back...

- The Fever, Berlin Childhood Around 1900, Walter Benjamin