Thursday, 28 June 2012
Saturday, 16 June 2012
Friday, 8 June 2012
When the Bakairi are dissatisfied with their chieftain, they leave the village and ask him to to rule alone.
(Von den Steinen)
It is strange that one comes closer to truth only in the words that one no longer fully believes.
Truth is a re animation of dying words.
It is time that distinguishes itself with new things but no new thoughts.
“Culture” is concocted from the vanities of its promoters.
It is a dangerous love portion, distracting us from death.
The purest expression of culture is an Egyptian tomb, where everything lies about futilely,
utensils, adornments, food, pictures, sculpture, prayers and
yet the dead man is not alive.
To find an old man who has forgotten to count.
They lay sentences like eggs, but forget to brood them.
Hell is the most dreadful of inventions,
and it is hard to understand how one can expect any good of people after this invention.
Will they not always have to invent hells?
Posted by Crisologo at 10:06 am
Friday, 1 June 2012
The temptation of the thinking person is to fall silent.
A thought achieves its highest dignity in silence: it has no further aim.
It explains nothing, it does not expand.
The thought that silences itself forgoes contact.
Perhaps even this thought can kill. But it doesn't know that.
It did not wish that.
It does not insist on surviving.
To write without teeth. Just try it
Posted by Crisologo at 11:42 am