We Know Not Through Our Intellect But

[the Sensate Body Possesses] An Art Of Interrogating The Sensible According To Its Own Wishes, An Inspired Exegesis.

Like The Weaver, The Writer Works On The Wrong Side Of His Material. He Has Only To Do With The Language, And It Is Thus That He Suddenly Finds Himself Surrounded By Sense.

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

All Thought Of Something Is At The Same Time Self-consciousness [...] At The Root Of All Our Experiences And All Our Reflections, We Find [...] A Being Which Immediately Recognises Itself, [...] And Which Knows Its Own Existence, Not By Observation And As A Given Fact, Nor By Inference From Any Idea Of Itself, But Through Direct Contact With That Existence. Self-consciousness Is The Very Being Of Mind In Action.

I May Speak Many Languages, But There Remains One In Which I Live.