In The End, The Writer Is Not

Humanity Had To Inflict Terrible Injuries On Itself Before The Self, The Identical, Purpose-directed, Masculine Character Of Human Beings Was Created, And Something Of This Process Is Repeated In Every Childhood.

Love You Will Find Only Where You May Show Yourself Weak Without Provoking Strength.

But He Who Dies In Despair Has Lived His Whole Life In Vain.

The Individual Mirrors In His Individuation The Preordained Social Laws Of Exploitation, However Mediated.

The Only Philosophy That Can Be Practiced Responsibly In The Face Of Despair Is The Attempt To Contemplate All Things As They Would Present Themselves From The Standpoint Of Redemption. Knowledge Has No Light But That Shed On The World By Redemption: All Else Is Reconstruction, Mere Technique. Perspectives Must Be Fashioned That Displace And Estrange The World, That Reveal Its Fissures And Crevices, As Indigent And Distorted As It Will One Day Appear In The Messianic Light.