What is great in humankind is that he is a bridge and not an end: What can be loved in man is that he/she is a passage and a fall. –Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Prologue §4 I love he/she whose soul is deep, even in being wounded, and who can perish of a small experience:…
“How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall…
Have you not heard of that madmanwho lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and cried incessantly: “I seek God! I seek God!”—As many of those who did not believe in God were standing around just then, he provoked much laughter. Has he got lost? asked one. Did…
Monday brings sunshine. “The world” continues. The myriad outworking of cause and effect: today was inscribed in yesterday, and while we do not know what tomorrow will bring, all of it is etched faintly or deeply into this present. It is “Coming of Age Day” (Seijin no Hi) in Japan for all females of…
In other words, a moment of revolt inherent in the will-to-understand beyond practical ends cannot be prolonged indefinitely: to be the whole of the universe man/woman must let go of his/her principles: accepting nothing that he/she is other than the tendency to go beyond what he/she is. This being that I am is the…
I can only be this whole man, by letting go. I cannot be that being through my will: my will is necessarily a will to succeed! If misfortune (or chance) wants me to let go, then I would know that I am the whole man, subordinated to nothing. In other words, a moment of…
It is because an acute intelligence sometimes appears to hide, the immense foolishness to which it is linked –of which it is only a negligible part –does not delay in returning to it. The certainty of the readers inconsistency, the friability of the most astute constructions constitutes the profound truth of books. Since appearances…
Recovery continues from Covid. Paxlovid, the anti-viral med seems to be working. Thus far I am able to read and to write. I could be much worse off. I feel gratitude. This is a segment from this morning’s New York Times concerning the collapse and cardiac arrest of Buffalo Bill’s Damar Hamlin on Monday…
“Good luck” lasts only so long. The smile of fortune is just that, — a smile. Nothing in this world lasts indefinitely. I am contending with Covid. No need to describe the unpleasant fever and a cough. Many have been afflicted with the virus, and many have died. Illness is an opportunity to consider…
How can one avoid knowing once —then again, and endlessly— the lie of the objects for which we burn? Nevertheless, in this senseless darkness, more distant than every nonsense, than every collapse, passion still lacerates me to “communicate” to those I love the news of this nightfall, as if this “communication,” and none other,…
