I have recently found this gem in the collective works of Oscar Wilde. It is a must read for my readers. After a hundred and twenty years it is still very apt.
Egotism itself, which is so necessary to a proper sense of human dignity, is entirely the result of indoor life. Out of doors one becomes abstract and impersonal. One’s individuality absolutely leaves one. ... Whenever I am walking in the park here, I always feel that I am no more to her than the cattle that browse on the slope, or the burdock that blooms in the ditch.