Living Substance Conquers The Frenzy Of Destruction

Things Are Only Mannequins And Even The Great World-historical Events Are Only Costumes Beneath Which They Exchange Glances With Nothingness.

There Is No Muse Of Philosophy, Nor Is There One Of Translation.

I Am Unpacking My Library. Yes I Am. The Books Are Not Yet On The Shelves, Not Yet Touched By The Mild Boredom Of Order.

Not To Find One’s Way Around A City Does Not Mean Much. But To Lose One’s Way In A City, As One Loses One’s Way In A Forest, Requires Some Schooling.

No Poem Is Intended For The Reader, No Picture For The Beholder, No Symphony For The Listener.