We No Longer Love Our Knowledge Enough

A Letter Is An Unannounced Visit, The Postman The Agent Of Rude Surprises. One Ought To Reserve An Hour A Week For Receiving Letters And Afterwards Take A Bath.

Was Mich Nicht Zugrunde Richtet, Macht Mich Starker.

Not To Him Who Is Offensive To Us Are We Most Unfair, But To Him Who Doth Not Concern Us At All.

One Should Not Understand This Compulsion To Construct Concepts, Species, Forms, Purposes, Laws ('a World Of Identical Cases') As If They Enabled Us To Fix The Real World; But As A Compulsion To Arrange A World For Ourselves In Which Our Existence Is Made Possible:-we Thereby Create A World Which Is Calculable, Simplified, Comprehensible, Etc., For Us.

Natural Death Is Independent Of All Reason And Is Really An Irrational Death, In Which The Pitiable Substance Of The Shell Determines How Long The Kernel Is To Exist Or Not; In Which, Accordingly, The Stunted, Diseased And Dull Witted Jailer Is Lord, And Indicates The Moment At Which His Distinguished Prisoner Shall Die.