Thought Without Language, Says Lavelle, Would Not

We Know Not Through Our Intellect But Through Our Experience.

True Reflection Presents Me To Myself Not As Idle And Inaccessible Subjectivity, But As Identical With My Presence In The World And To Others, As I Am Now Realizing It: I Am All That I See, I Am An Intersubjective Field, Not Despite My Body And Historical Situation, But, On The Contrary, By Being This Body And This Situation, And Through Them, All The Rest.

Science Manipulates Things And Gives Up Living In Them. It Makes Its Own Limited Models Of Things; Operating Upon These Indices Or Variables To Effect Whatever Transformations Are Permitted By Their Definition, It Comes Face To Face With The Real World Only At Rare Intervals. Science Is And Always Will Be That Admirably Active, Ingenious, And Bold Way Of Thinking Whose Fundamental Bias Is To Treat Everything As Though It Were An Object-in-general - As Though It Meant Nothing To Us And Yet Was Predestined For Our Own Use.

The Perceived World Is The Always-presupposed Foundation Of All Rationality, All Value, And All Existence.

My Hold On The Past And The Future Is Precarious And My Possession Of My Own Time Is Always Postponed Until A Stage When I May Fully Understand It, Yet This Stage Can Never Be Reached, Since It Would Be One More Moment Bounded By The Horizon Of Its Future, And Requiring In Its Turn, Further Developments In Order To Be Understood.