Socrates tried to soothe us, true enough. He said there were only two possibilities. Either the soul is immortal or, after death, things would be again as blank as they were before we were born. This...
Therefore we didn't talk of genuine things.
Fidelity is for phonographs
At times I feel like a socket that remembers its tooth.
What is art but a way of seeing?
Your authority and my degeneracy are one in the same.
Towards the end of your life you have something like a pain schedule to fill out—a long schedule like a federal document, only it's your pain schedule. Endless categories. First, physical causes—like...
Strict seriousness was far more dangerous than any joke.
God may save all, but human rescue is only for a few.
The ocean was waiting with grand and bitter provocations, as if it invited you to think how deep it was, how much colder than your blood or saltier, or to outguess it, to tell which were its feints or...
Brother raises a hand against brother and son against father (how terrible!) and the father also against son. And moreover it is a continuity-matter, for if the father did not strike the son, they wou...
I am willing without further exercise in pain to open my heart. And this needs no doctrine or theology of suffering. We love apocalypses too much, and crisis ethics and florid extremism with its thril...
It seems, after all that there are no nonpeculiar people.
I am a true adorer of life, and if I can't reach as high as the face of it, I plant my kiss somewhere lower down. Those who understand will require no further explanation.
The paltriness of these sexual struggles.
It would not be practical for her to hate herself. Luckily, God sends a substitute, a husband.
Everybody knows there is no fineness or accuracy of suppression; if you hold down one thing you hold down the adjoining.
Wie Gott in Frankreich'' was the expression used by the Jews of Eastern Europe to describe perfect happiness. I puzzled over this simile for many years, and I think I can interpret it now. God would b...
The sun was shut up in a cold bottle.
I suppose, he was thinking, that we heard this tale of the Herzogs ten times a year. Sometimes Mama told it, sometimes he. So we had a great schooling in grief. I still know these cries of the soul. T...