Ser cosmopolita no significa ser indiferente a un país, y ser sensible a otros, no. Significa la generosa ambición de querer ser sensibles a todos los países y a todas las épocas, el deseo de eternidad, el deseo de haber sido muchos…
Homenaje a Victoria Ocampo, Jorge Luis Borges
If you ask a mathematician, a mineralogist, a historian, or any other man of learning, what definite body of truths has been ascertained by his science, his answer will last as long as you are willing to listen. But if you put the same question to a philosopher, he will, if he is candid, have to confess that his study has not achieved positive results such as have been achieved by other sciences. It is true that this is partly accounted for by the fact that, as soon as definite knowledge concerning any subject becomes possible, this subject ceases to be called philosophy, and becomes a separate science. The whole study of the heavens, which now belongs to astronomy, was once included in philosophy; Newton’s great work was called ‘the mathematical principles of natural philosophy’. Similarly, the study of the human mind, which was a part of philosophy, has now been separated from philosophy and has become the science of psychology. Thus, to a great extent, the uncertainty of philosophy is more apparent than real: those questions which are already capable of definite answers are placed in the sciences, while those only to which, at present, no definite answer can be given, remain to form the residue which is called philosophy.
Why do we give up our sacred space so easily? Because space is scary. During these temporary voids of distraction, our minds return to the uncertainty and fears that plague all of us. To escape this chasm of self-doubt and unanswered questions, you tune into all of the activity and data for reassurance.
Scott Belsky, What Happened to Downtime? The Extinction of Deep Thinking & Sacred Space
Gustave Flaubert (via nevver)
It is not the contented or the glowing who have left many of the profound testimonies of what it means to be alive. It seems that such knowledge has usually been the privileged preserve of, and the only blessing granted to, the violently miserable.
Alain de Botton, How Proust Can Change Your Life
Griefs, at the moment when they change into ideas, lose some of their power to injure our heart.
Alain de Botton, How Proust Can Change Your Life
Unfortunate we so rarely think straight and hard without being goaded on by a full-blown crisis.
Alain de Botton
You see, life consists of giving yourself these problems that can be dealt with, so you don’t have to face the problems that can’t be dealt with. It’s very meaningful to me, for instance, to see if the Knicks are going to get over some problem or another. These are matters you can get involved with, safely, and pleasurably, and the outcome doesn’t hurt you.
Woody Allen, Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Knicks
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1994/06/06/1994_06_06_033_TNY_CARDS_000370516
When one is finally feeling lucid, clear-eyed and rational, people always ask if one’s drunk.
Alain de Botton
Ich gehe, in mir ist ein unbestimmtes Gefühl. Ich wage keinen Entschluss zu fassen. Wenn ich wüsste, dass ich Talent hätte… nie aber habe ich etwas in dieser Art geschrieben - historische Aufsätze, gewiss, und dergleichen. Ein Buch. Einen Roman. Und Leute würden diesen Roman lesen und sagen: “Den hat Antoine Roquentin geschrieben, ein Rothaariger, der sich in den Cafés herumtrieb.” Und sie würden an mein Leben denken, wie ich an das der Negerin denke: wie an etwas Kostbares, halb Legendäres. Ein Buch. Anfangs würde es eine öde ermüdende Arbeit sein, sie würde nicht hindern können, dass ich existiere und fühle, dass ich existiere. Dann aber käme der Augenblick, wo das Buch fertig wäre, hinter mir läge - und ich glaube, ein wenig von seiner Klarheit fiele auf meine Vergangenheit. Vielleicht könnte ich dann, durch dieses Buch hindurch, mich ohne Widerwillen meines Lebens erinnern. Vielleicht würde ich eines Tages - wenn ich an diese Stunde denke, diese trübe Stunde, in der ich mit gewölbtem Rücken dastehe und darauf warte, in den Zug zu steigen - vielleicht würde ich dann mein Herz schneller schlagen fühlen und mir sagen: “An diesem Tage, zu dieser Stunde hat alles begonnen.” Und vielleicht gelänge es mir - in der Vergangenheit, nur in der Vergangenheit - mich gelten zu lassen.
Jean-Paul Sartre, Der Ekel
