Frases de Søren Kierkegaard

página 8

“A vida só pode ser compreendida pelo passado; mas deve ser vivida para a frente.

Spanish:
La vida sólo puede ser entendida hacia atrás; pero debe ser vivida hacia adelante.”

“Faça-o ou não faça-o - irá arrepender-se de ambos.


Spanish:
Lo hagas o no lo hagas te arrepentirás como sea.”

“Acima de tudo, não se esqueça da obrigação de amar a si mesmo.”

“O tirano morre e o seu reinado termina, o martir morre e o seu reinado começa.”

“Nossa vida sempre expressa o resultado de nossos pensamentos dominantes.”

“É verdade quando a filosofia diz que a vida só pode ser compreendida olhando-se para trás. No entanto, esqueceram de outra frase: que ela só pode ser vivida olhando-se para a frente.”

“A vida só se compreende mediante um retorno ao passado, mas só se vive para diante.”

“A adversidade une os homens e produz beleza e harmonia nos relacionamentos da vida, assim como o frio do inverno produz os cristais de gelo nas vidraças, que desaparecem com o calor.”

“A fé não constitui, portanto, um impulso de ordem estética; é de outra ordem muito mais elevada, justamente porque pressupõe a resignação. Não é o instinto imediato do coração, mas o paradoxo da vida.”

“Era uma vez uma época, e ela não está muito longe, em que também aqui se podia fazer sucesso com um bocadinho de ironia, que compensava todas as lacunas em outros aspectos, favorecia alguém com honrarias e lhe dava a reputação de ser culto, de compreender a vida e o caracterizava ante os iniciados como membro de uma vasta franco-maçonaria espiritual. Ainda nos deparamos de vez em quando com um ou outro representante deste mundo desaparecido, que conserva este fino sorriso, significativo, ambiguamente revelador de tanta coisa, este tom de cortesão espiritual, com o qual ele fez fortuna em sua juventude e sobre o qual construiu todo o seu futuro, na esperança de ter vencido o mundo. Mas ah! foi uma decepção! Em vão procura seu olhar explorador por uma alma irmã, e caso a época de seu esplendor não estivesse ainda fresca na memória de um ou de outro, suas caretas permaneceriam um enigmático hieroglifo para uma época na qual ele vive como hóspede e estrangeiro.  Pois nosso tempo exige mais, exige se não um pathos elevado, pelo menos altissonante, se não especulação, pelo menos resultados; quando não verdade, pelo menos convicção, quando não sinceridade, pelo menos protestos de sinceridade; e, na falta de sensibilidade, pelo menos discursos intermináveis a respeito desta. Por isso, nosso tempo cunha uma espécie bem diferente de rostos privilegiados. Não permite que a boca se feche obstinada, ou que o lábio superior trema com ar travesso, ele exige que a boca fique aberta; pois como poderíamos imaginar um verdadeiro e autêntico patriota, senão discursando, o rosto dogmático de um pensador profundo, senão com uma boca que fosse capaz de engolir o mundo todo; como nos poderíamos representar um virtuose da copiosa palavra vivente, senão com a boca escancarada? Ele não permite que paremos quietos e nos aprofundemos; andar devagar já desperta suspeita; e como nos poderíamos contentar com isso no instante movimentado em que vivemos, não época prenhe do destino, que, como todos reconhecem, está grávida do extraordinário? Nosso tempo odeia o isolamento, e como suportaria que um homem chegasse à ideia desesperada de andar sozinho através da vida, esse nosso tempo, que de mãos e braços dados (como membros viajantes das corporações de ofício e soldados rasos), vive para a ideia da comunidade?”

“Quem alcançou neste mundo grandeza igual à dessa bendita mulher, a mãe de Deus, a virgem Maria? No entanto, como se fala dela? A sua grandeza não provém do fato de ter sido bendita entre as mulheres, e se uma estranha coincidência não levasse a assembléia a pensar com a mesma desumanidade do predicador, qualquer jovem devia, seguramente, perguntar: Por que não fui eu também bendita entre as mulheres? Se se não possuísse outra resposta, de forma alguma acharia ter de rejeitar esta pergunta, pretextando a sua falta de senso; porque, no abstrato, em presença de um favor, todos temos mesmos direitos. São esquecidos a tribulação, a angústia, o paradoxo. Meu pensamento é tão puro como o de qualquer outro; e ele purifica-se, exercendo-se sobre as coisas. E se não se enobrecer pode-se então esperar pelo espanto; porque se essas imagens foram alguma vez evocadas jamais poderão ser esquecidas. E se contra elasse peca, extraem da sua muda cólera uma terrível vingança, mais terrível do que os rugidos de dez ferozes críticos. Maria, indubitavelmente, deu à luz o filho graças a um milagre, mas no decorrer de tal acontecimento foi como todas as outras mulheres, e esse tempo é o da angústia, da tribulação e do paradoxo. O anjo foi, sem dúvida, um espírito caritativo, mas não foi complacente porque não foi dizer a todas as outras virgens de Israel: Não desprezeis Maria, porque lhe sucedeu o extraordinário. Apresentou-se perante ela só e ninguém a pôde compreender. No entanto, que outra mulher foi mais ofendida do que Maria? Pois não é também verdade que aquele a quem Deus abençoa é também amaldiçoado com o mesmo sopro do seu espírito? É desta forma que se torna necessário, espiritualmente, compreender Maria. Ela não é, de maneira alguma, uma formosa dama que brinca com um deus menino, e até me sinto revoltado ao dizer isto e muito mais ao pensar na afetação e ligeireza de tal concepção. Apesar disso, quando diz: sou a serva do Senhor, ela é grande e imagino que não deve ser difícil explicar por que razão se tornou mãe de Deus. Não precisa, absolutamente nada, da admiração do mundo, tal como Abraão não necessita de lágrimas, porque nem ela foi uma heroína, nem ele foi um herói. E não se tornaram grandes por terem escapado à tribulação, ao desespero e ao paradoxo, mas precisamente porque sofreram tudo isso. Há grandeza em ouvir dizer ao poeta, quando apresenta o seu herói trágico à admiração dos homens: chorai por ele; merece-o; porque é grandioso merecer as lágrimas dos que são dignos de as derramar; há grandeza em ver o poeta conter a multidão, corrigir os homens e analisá-los um por um para verificar se são dignos de chorar pelo herói, porque as lágrimas dos vulgares chorões profanam o sagrado. Contudo ainda é mais grandioso que o cavaleiro da fé possa dizer ao nobre caráter que quer chorar por ele: não chores por mim, chora antes por ti próprio.”

“O casamento feliz é e continuará a ser a viagem de descoberta mais importante que o homem jamais poderá empreender.”

“A maioria dos homens persegue o prazer com tanta impetuosidade que passa por ele sem vê-lo.”

“A fé é a mais elevada paixão de todos os homens.”

“Que sejam os outros a queixarem-se de que os tempos são maus; queixo-me de que são miseráveis, porque são tempos sem paixão. Os pensamentos dos homens são finos e quebradiços como rendas, eles próprios tão dignos de dó quanto as rendeiras. Os pensamentos que lhes vão no coração são tão miseráveis, que não chegam a ser pecaminosos. Talvez fosse possível, para um verme, considerar como pecado alimentar tais pensamentos, mas não para um homem, que é criado à imagem de Deus. Os seus desejos voluptuosos são comedidos e indolentes, as suas paixões, sonolentas; estas almas mercantis cumprem os seus deveres, porém, tal como os judeus, dão-se todavia ao direito de desbastar uma migalinha da moeda; em sua opinião, embora Nosso Senhor mantenha as contas bastante em ordem, também é certamente possível escapar, aldrabando-o um pouco. Desavergonhados! Por isso, a minha alma regressa sempre ao Antigo Testamento e a Shakespeare. Sente-se deveras que são homens que falam; e que aí, odeia-se, e aí, ama-se, mata-se o inimigo, amaldiçoa-se a descendência por todas as gerações, aí, peca-se.”

“Aventurar-se causa ansiedade, mas deixar de arriscar-se é perder a si mesmo. E aventurar-se no sentido mais elevado é precisamente tomar consciência de si próprio.”

“A angústia é a possibilidade da liberdade. É o medo dessa possibilidade. A angústia é o puro sentimento do possível.
Se houver coragem de ir mais além, se constatará que a então realidade será muito mais leve do que era a possibilidade. E o grande salto será o mais difícil, será cair nas mãos de Deus, será a coragem.”

“Acima de tudo, não perca seu desejo de prosseguir.”

“Sofrer, é só uma vez; vencer, é para a eternidade.”

“Não há nada em que paire tanta sedução e maldição como um segredo.”

“Ficar em pé e provar a existência de Deus é bem diferente de ficar de joelhos e agradecê-Lo.”

“Ousar é perder o equilíbrio momentaneamente. Não ousar é perde-se definitivamente.”

“A Reflexão é o anjo exterminador da espontaneidade… Se fosse verdade que a reflexão devesse controlar a inclinação amorosa, nunca haveria casamento.”

“É arrogante a classe dos cientistas-naturalistas que querem liquidar Deus completamente, como supérfluo, substituindo-o pelas leis naturais. Substituem uma idéia ininteligível por outra equivalente. Sob a presunção de controle e compreensibilidade bem humanas sobre a natureza.”

“Têm vergonha de obedecer ao rei porque ele é rei - então, obedecem-lhe porque ele é inteligente.”

“O humorista, tal como a fera, anda sempre sozinho.”

“Só que Sócrates não se detinha numa consideração filosófica, mas se voltava para cada um em particular, despojava-o de tudo e o despedia de mãos vazias.”

“Sem pecado, nada de sexualidade, e sem sexualidade, nada de História.”

“(…) se é uma vantagem, por exemplo, poder-se ser o que se deseja, maior ainda é sê-lo, ou seja, a passagem do possível ao real é um progresso, uma ascensão.”

“Enganar-se a respeito da natureza do amor é a mais espantosa das perdas. É uma perda eterna, para a qual não existe compensação nem no tempo nem na eternidade”

“O povo pede o poder da palavra para compensar o poder de livre pensamento a que ele foge.”

“O indivíduo, na sua angústia de não ser culpado mas de passar por sê-lo, torna-se culpado.”

“O infinito temor dum único perigo torna inexistentes todos os outros”

“Arriscar-se no sentido mais amplo é precisamente tomar consciência de si próprio.”

“A porta da felicidade abre só para o exterior; quem a força em sentido contrário acaba por fechá-la ainda mais.”

“A velhice realiza os sonhos da juventude: é o que se observa em Swift; na juventude construiu um manicômio, na velhice foi ele quem para lá foi.”

“Este, então, é o paradoxo final do pensamento: querer descobrir algo que o próprio pensamento não pode pensar.”

“You have surely noticed among schoolboys, that the one that is regarded by all as the boldest is the one who has no fear of his father, who dares to say to the others, "Do you think I am afraid of him?" On the other hand, if they sense that one of their number is actually and literally afraid of his father, they will readily ridicule him a little. Alas, in men’s fear-ridden rushing together into a crowd (for why indeed does a man rush into a crowd except because he is afraid!) there, too, it is a mark of boldness not to be afraid, not even of God. And if someone notes that there is an individual outside the crowd who is really and truly afraid – not of the crowd, but of God, he is sure to be the target of some ridicule. The ridicule is usually glossed over somewhat and it is said: a man should love God. Yes, to be sure, God knows that man’s highest consolation is that God is love and that man is permitted to love Him. But let us not become too forward, and foolishly, yes, blasphemously, dismiss the tradition of our fathers, established by God Himself: that really and truly a man should fear God. This fear is known to the man who is himself conscious of being an individual, and thereby is conscious of his eternal responsibility before God.”

“It is love that leniently and mercifully says: I forgive you everything-if you are forgiven only little, then it is because you love only little. Justice severely sets the boundary and says: No further! This is the limit. For you there is no forgiveness, and there is nothing more to be said. P. 172”

“I assume that Luther has risen from the grave. For several years now he has been living among us but incognito; he has been observing the lives we lead, has been scrutinizing everyone in this regard and me also. I assume that he speaks to me one day and says, “Are you a believer? Do you have faith?” Anyone who knows me as an author will see that I would perhaps be the one who might come off best of all in such and examination, for I have continually said, “I do not have faith” – I have expressed, as does a bird’s alarmed flight before a storm, that there is mischief brewing here, “I do not have faith.” So I should say to Luther, “No, dear Luther, I have at least shown the respect of saying: I do not have faith.” However, I shall not press this, but, just as others call themselves Christians and believers, I, too, shall say, “I am a believer,” for otherwise what I wish to be cleared up will not be cleared up.”

“That a woman is presented as a teacher, as a prototype of piety, cannot amaze anyone who knows that piety or godliness is fundamentally womanliness. … from a woman you learn concern for the one thing needful, from Mary, sister of Lazarus, who sat silent at Christ’s feet with her heart’s choice: the one thing needful. P. 149”

“If it were so, as conceited sagacity, proud of not being deceived, thinks, that we should believe nothing that we cannot see with our physical eyes, then we first and foremost ought to give up believing in love. … We can be deceived by believing what is untrue, but we certainly are also deceived by not believing what is true. … Which deception is more dangerous?”

“My doubt goes like this: How could the Loving One have the heart to let human beings become so guilty that they got his murder on their consciences?”

“How could one speak properly about love if you were forgotten, you God of love, source of all love in heaven and on earth; you who spared nothing but in love gave everything; you who are love, so that one who loves is what he is only by being in you.”

“I have needed God every day to defend myself against the abundance of thoughts.”

“This is the truth of the matter. In every human being there is a capacity, the capacity for knowledge. And every person - the most knowing and the most limited - is in his knowledge far beyond what he is in his life or what his life expresses. Yet this misrelation is of little concern to us. On the contrary, we set a high price on knowledge, and everyone strives for this knowledge more and more. "But," says the sensible person, "one must be careful about the direction one's knowing takes. If my knowing turns inward, against me, if I do not take care to prevent this, then knowing is the most intoxicating thing there is, the way to become completely intoxicated, since there then occurs an intoxicating confusion between the knowledge and the knower, so that the knower himself will resemble, will be, that which is known. If your knowing takes such a turn and you yield to it, it will soon end with your tumbling like a drunk man into actuality, plunging yourself recklessly into drunken action without giving the understanding and sagacity the time to take into proper consideration what is prudent, what is advantageous, what will pay. This is why we, the sober ones, warn you, not against knowing or against expanding your knowledge, but against letting your knowledge take an inward direction, for then it is intoxicating." This is thieves' jargon. It says that it is one's knowledge that, by taking the inward direction in this way, intoxicates, rather than that in precisely this way it makes manifest that one is intoxicated, intoxicated in one's attachment to this earthly life, the temporal, the secular, and the selfish. And this is what one fears, fears that one's knowing, turned inward, toward oneself, will expose the intoxication there, will expose that one prefers to remain in this state, will wrench one out of this state and as a result of such a step will make it impossible for one to slip back into that adored state, into intoxication. p. 118”

“If one prefers to have little with blessing, to have truth with concern, to suffer instead of exulting over imagined victories, then one presumably will not be disposed to praise the knowledge, as if what it bestows were at all proportionate to the trouble it causes, although one would not therefore deny that through its pain it educates a person, if he is honest enough to want to be educated rather than to be deceived, out of the multiplicity to seek the one, out of abundance to seek the one thing needful, as this is plainly and simply offered precisely according to the need for it.”

“Married people pledge love for each other throughout eternity. Well, now, that is easy enough but does not mean very much, for if one is finished with time one is probably finished with eternity. If, instead of saying "throughout eternity," the couple would say, "until Easter, until next May Day," then what they say would make some sense, for then they would be saying something and also something they perhaps could carry out.”

“There was a time, and not so long ago, when one could score a success also here with a bit of irony, which compensated for all other deficiencies and helped one get through the world rather respectably, gave one the appearance of being cultured, of having a perspective on life, an understanding of the world, and to the initiated marked one as a member of an extensive intellectual freemasonry. Occasionally we still meet a representative of that vanished age who has preserved that subtle, sententious, equivocally divulging smile, that air of an intellectual courtier with which he has made his fortune in his youth and upon which he had built his whole future in the hope that he had overcome the world. Ah, but it was an illusion! His watchful eye looks in vain for a kindred soul, and if his days of glory were not still a fresh memory for a few, his facial expression would be a riddle to the contemporary age, in which he lives as a stranger and foreigner. Our age demands more; it demands, if not lofty pathos then at least loud pathos, if not speculation then at least conclusions, if not truth then at least persuasion, if not integrity then at least protestations of integrity, if not feeling then at least verbosity of feelings. Therefore it also coins a totally different kind of privileged faces. It will not allow the mouth to be defiantly compressed or the upper lip to quiver mischievously; it demands that the mouth be open, for how, indeed, could one imagine a true and genuine patriot who is not delivering speeches; how could one visualize a profound thinker’s dogmatic face without a mouth able to swallow the whole world; how could one picture a virtuoso on the cornucopia of the living world without a gaping mouth? It does not permit one to stand still and to concentrate; to walk slowly is already suspicious; and how could one even put up with anything like that in the stirring period in which we live, in this momentous age, which all agree is pregnant with the extraordinary? It hates isolation; indeed, how could it tolerate a person’s having the daft idea of going through life alone-this age that hand in hand and arm in arm (just like itinerant journeymen and soldiers) lives for the idea of community.”

“It has often been said that a reformation should begin with each man reforming himself. That, however, is not what actually happened, for the reformation produced a hero who paid God dearly enough for his position as hero. By joining up with him directly people buy cheap, indeed at bargain prices, what he had paid for so dearly; but they do not buy the highest of all things.”

“But on the other hand, the understanding, reflection, is also a gift of God. What shall one do with it, how dispose of it if one is not to use it? And if one then uses it in fear and trembling not for one’s own advantage but to serve the truth, if one uses it that way in fear and trembling and furthermore believing that it still is God who determines the issue in its eternal significance, venturing to trust in him, and with unconditional obedience yielding to what he makes use of it: is this not fear of God and serving God the way a person of reflection can, in the somewhat different way than the spontaneously immediate person, but perhaps more ardently. But if this is the case, does not a maieutic element enter into the relation to other man or to various other men. The maieutic is really only the expression for a superiority between man and man. That is exists cannot be denied-but existence presses far more powerfully upon the superior one precisely because he is a maieutic (because he has the responsibility) than upon the other. As far as I am concerned, there has been no lack of witnesses. All my upbuilding discourses are in fact in the form of direct communication. Consequently there can be a question only about this, something that has occupied me for a long time (already back in earlier journals): should I for one definitely explain myself as author, what I declare myself to be, how I from the beginning understood myself to be a religious author. But now is not the time to do it; I am also somewhat strained at the moment, I need more physical recreation.”

“These two essays probably will essentially be able to interest only theologians.”

“Between God and man there is and remains an eternal, essential, qualitative difference. The paradoxical relationship (which, quite rightly, cannot be thought, but only believed) appears when God appoints a particular man to divine authority, in relation, be it carefully noted, to that which has entrusted to him.”

“Job endured everything — until his friends came to comfort him, then he grew impatient.”

“If a person is unwilling to make a decisive resolution, if he wants to cheat God of the heart’s daring venture in which a person ventures way out and loses sight of all shrewdness and probability, indeed, takes leave of his senses or at least all his worldly mode of thinking, if instead of beginning with one step he almost craftily seeks to find out something, to have the infinite certainty changed into a finite certainty, then this discourse will not be able to benefit him. There is an upside-downness that wants to reap before it sows; there is a cowardliness that wants to have certainty before it begins. There is a hypersensitivity so copious in words that it continually shrinks from acting; but what would it avail a person if, double-minded and fork-tongued he wanted to dupe God, trap him in probability, but refused to understand the improbable, that one must lose everything in order to gain everything, and understand it so honestly that, in the most crucial moment, when his soul is already shuddering at the risk, he does not again leap to his own aid with the explanation that he has not yet fully made a resolution but merely wanted to feel his way. Therefore, all discussion of struggling with God in prayer, of the actual loss (since if pain of annihilation is not actually suffered, then the sufferer is not yet out upon the deep, and his scream is not the scream of danger but in the face of danger) and the figurative victory cannot have the purpose of persuading anyone or of converting the situation into a task for secular appraisal and changing God’s gift of grace to the venture into temporal small change for the timorous. It really would not help a person if the speaker, by his oratorical artistry, led him to jump into a half hour’s resolution, by the ardor of conviction started a fire in him so that he would blaze in a momentary good intention without being able to sustain a resolution or to nourish an intention as soon as the speaker stopped talking.”

“To stand on one leg and prove God's existence is a very different thing from going on one's knees and thanking Him.”

“Confession should be only in secret before God, who knows everything anyway, and thus it could remain hidden in one‘s innermost being. But at a dinner – and a woman! A dinner-it is not some hidden, remote place, nor is the lighting dim, nor is the mood like that among graves, nor are the listeners silent or invisibly present.”

“Christ speaks of two debtors, one of whom owed much and the other little, and who both found forgiveness. He asks: Which of these two ought to love more? The answer: The one who has forgiven much. When you love much, you are forgiven much-and when you are forgiven much, you love much. See here the blessed recurrence of salvation in love! P. 176”

“If I tried to imagine the public as a particular person (for although some better individuals momentarily belong to the public they nevertheless have something concrete about them, which holds them in its grip even if they have not attained the supreme religious attitude), I should perhaps think of one of the Roman emperors, a large well-fed figure, suffering from boredom, looking only for the sensual intoxication of laughter, since the divine gift of wit is not earthly enough. And so for a change he wanders about, indolent rather than bad, but with a negative desire to dominate. Every one who has read the classical authors knows how many things a Caesar could try out in order to kill time. In the same way the public keeps a dog to amuse it. That dog is the sum of the literary world. If there is some one superior to the rest, perhaps even a great man, the dog is set on him and the fun begins. The dog goes for him, snapping and tearing at his coat-tails, allowing itself every possible ill-mannered familiarity – until the public tires, and says it may stop. That is an example of how the public levels. Their betters and superiors in strength are mishandled – and the dog remains a dog which even the public despises. The leveling is therefore done by a third party; a non-existent public leveling with the help of a third party which in its significance is less than nothing, being already more than leveled.”

“After a considerable walk through the forest, where I became acquainted with several of the little lakes I am so fond of, I came to Hestehaven and Lake Carl. Here is one of the most beautiful regions I have ever seen. The countryside is somewhat isolated and slopes steeply down to the lake, but with the beech forests growing on either side, it is not barren. A growth of rushes forms the background and the lake itself the foreground; a fairly large part of the lake is clear, but a still larger part is overgrown with the large green leaves of the waterlily, under which the fish seemingly try to hide but now and then peek out and flounder about on the surface in order to bathe in sunshine. The land rises on the opposite side, a great beech forest, and in the morning light the lighted areas make a marvelous contrast to the shadowed areas. The church bells call to prayer, but not in a temple made by human hands. If the birds do not need to be reminded to praise God, then ought men not be moved to prayer outside of the church, in the true house of God, where heaven's arch forms the ceiling of the church, where the roar of the storm and the light breezes take the place of the organ's bass and treble, where the singing of the birds make up the congregational hymns of praise, where echo does not repeat the pastor's voice as in the arch of the stone church, but where everything resolves itself in an endless antiphony — Hillerød, July 25, 1835”

“An authorship that began with Either/Or and advanced step by step seeks here its decisive place of rest, at the foot of the altar, where the author, personally most aware of his own imperfections and guilt, certainly does not call himself a truth-witness but only a singular kind of poet and thinker who, without authority, has had nothing new to bring but “has wanted once again to read through, if possible in a more inward way, the original text handed down from the fathers” Preface P. 165”

“Irony limits, finitizes, and circumscribes and thereby yields truth, actuality, content; it disciplines and punishes and thereby yields balance and consistency.”

“The truth is always in the minority, and the minority is always stronger than the majority, because as a rule the minority is made up of those who actually have an opinion, while the strength of the majority is illusory, formed of that crowd which has no opinion — and which therefore the next moment (when it becomes clear that the minority is the stronger) adopts the latter's opinion, which now is in the majority, i. e. becomes rubbish by having the whole retinue and numerousness on its side, while the truth is again in a new minority.”

“The world and Christianity have completely opposite conceptions. The world says of the apostles, of the Apostle Peter as their spokesman, "He is drunk,"-and the Apostle Peter admonishes, "Become sober." Consequently the secular mentality considers Christianity to be drunkenness, and Christianity considers the secular mentality to be drunkenness. "Do become reasonable, come to your senses, try to become sober"-thus does the secular mentality taunt the Christian. And the Christian says to the secular mentality, "Do become reasonable, come to your senses, become sober." The difference between secularity and Christianity is not that one has one view and the other another-no, the difference is always that they have the very opposite views, that what one calls good the other calls evil, what the one calls love the other calls selfishness, what the one calls piety the other calls impiety, What the one calls being drunk the other calls being sober. it is precisely the drunken man, the apostle, who finds it necessary to bring home to the sober (I assume) world the admonition: "Become sober!"”

“For as only one thing is necessary, and as the theme of the talk is the willing of only one thing: hence the consciousness before God of one’s eternal responsibility to be an individual is that one thing necessary.”

“In an age as agitated as ours, it no longer suffices just to be advertised in the newspaper. To be advertised in this way is the same thing as being consigned to oblivion. If one is to be noticed, once must as least appear on the first page under a hand that points to and, as it were, announces or advertises the advertisement.”