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The modern is only in our desire. It is outside, everywhere, outside of us. The modern is not in our spirit. This is the anguish and the sickness of this century, the feverish huffing and puffing: life has escaped from the spirit. Life has changed, down to the bottom, and keeps on changing again, every day, restless and erratic. But the spirit remains old and numb and doesn't exert itself at all and doesn't move itself at all and only suffers helplessly, because it is lonely and abandoned by life. (en) |
