The Tragedy Of This World Is That

Scientists Will Forever Have To Live With The Fact That Their Product Is, In The End, Impersonal.

A World In Which Time Is Absolute Is A World Of Consolation. For While The Movements Of People Are Unpredictable, The Movement Of Time Is Predictable. While People Can Be Doubted, Time Cannot Be Doubted. While People Brood, Time Skips Ahead Without Looking Back. In The Coffee Houses, In The Government Buildings, In Boats Of Lake Geneva, People Look At Their Watches And Take Refuge In Time. Each Person Knows That Somewhere Is Recorded The Moment She Was Born, The Moment She Took Her First Step, The Moment Of Her First Passion, The Moment She Said Goodbye To Her Parents.

You Say, "something Important Really Happened Here. I Really Had Hold Of Something I Was Visited By The Muse." And That's Enough To Make You Continue The Months And Years To Finish The Whole Book.

The Time-deaf Are Unable To Speak What They Know. For Speech Needs A Sequence Of Words, Spoken In Time.

Children Grow Rapidly, Forget The Centuries-long Embrace From Their Parents, Which To Them Lasted But Seconds. Children Become Adults, Live Far From Their Parents, Live Their Own Houses, Learn Ways Of Their Own, Suffer Pain, Grow Old. Children Curse Their Parents For Their Wrinkled Skin And Hoarse Voices. Those Now Old Children Also Want To Stop Time, But At Another Time. They Want To Freeze Their Own Children At The Center Of Time.