If one believes philosophers, then what we call religion is only a deliberately popularized or an instinctively artless philosophy. Poets seem to consider religion rather as a variation of poetry which by misjudging its proper beautiful game takes itself too seriously and one-sidedly. Philosophy, however, admits and recognizes that it can begin and complete itself only with religion. Poetry seeks only to strive for the infinite and despises worldly utility and culture, which are the true antitheses of religion. Eternal peace among artists is thus not far away.
All thinking of the religious man is etymological, a reduction of all concepts to the original intuition, to the characteristic.
If the essence of cynicism consists in preferring nature to art, virtue to beauty and science; in not bothering about the letter of things -- to which the Stoic strictly adheres -- but in looking up to the spirit of things; in absolute contempt of all economic values and political splendor, and in courageous defence of the rights of independent freedom; then Christianity would be nothing but universal cynicism.
Wit as an instrument of revenge is as infamous as art is as a means of sensual titillation.
A critic is a reader who ruminates. Thus, he should have more than one stomach.
I have expressed some ideas that point to the center; I have saluted the dawn in my way, from my point of view. He who knows the way should do the same, in his way, and from his point of view.
Without poetry, religion becomes obscure, false, and malignant; without philosophy, licentious in all wantonness, and lascivious to the point of self-castration.
In the ancients, one sees the accomplished letter of entire poetry: in the moderns, one has the presentiment of the spirit in becoming.
Just as a child is really a thing that wants to become a man, so is the poem an object of nature that wants to become an object ofart.
With respect to ingenious subconsciousness, I think, philosophers might well rival poets.
In the world of language, or in other words in the world of art and liberal education, religion necessarily appears as mythology or as Bible.
All the classical genres are now ridiculous in their rigorous purity.
Even a friendly conversation which cannot be at any given moment be broken off voluntarily with complete arbitrariness has something illiberal about it. An artist, however, who is able and wants to express himself completely, who keeps nothing to himself and would wish to say everything he knows, is very much to be pitied.
All artists are self-sacrificing human beings, and to become an artist is nothing but to devote oneself to the subterranean gods.
I can no longer say my love and your love; they are both alike in their perfect mutuality.
A definition of poetry can only determine what poetry should be and not what poetry actually was and is; otherwise the most concise formula would be: Poetry is that which at some time and some place was thus named.
If one writes or reads novels from the point of view of psychology, it is very inconsistent and petty to want to shy away from even the slowest and most detailed analysis of the most unnatural lusts, gruesome tortures, shocking infamy, and disgusting sensual or spiritual impotence.
A priest is he who lives solely in the realm of the invisible, for whom all that is visible has only the truth of an allegory.
In every good poem everything must be both deliberate and instinctive. That is how the poem becomes ideal.
There is no self-knowledge except historical self-knowledge. No one knows what he is if he doesn't know what his contemporaries are.
The naive is what is or appears to be natural, individual, or classical to the point of irony or to the point of continuous alternation of self-creation and self-destruction. If it is only instinct, then it is childlike, childish, or silly; if it is only intention, it becomes affectation.
Wit is absolutely sociable spirit or aphoristic genius.
There are three kinds of explanation in science: explanations which throw a light upon, or give a hint at a matter; explanations which do not explain anything; and explanations which obscure everything.
Man is a creative retrospection of nature upon itself.
Publication is to thinking as childbirth is to the first kiss.
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