The most interesting time is the period of falling in love, when, after the first magical sweeping sensation, one fetches something home from every encounter, every glance (how- ever fleetingly the soul hides, so to speak, behind the eyelid), just like a bird busily fetching one stick after the other to its nest and yet always feeling overwhelmed by the great wealth.—JP III 2382 (Pap. II A 273) October 11, 1838 See 24:26-29: I would like to write a novel in which the main character would be a man who had obtained a pair of glasses, one lens of which reduced images as powerfully as an oxyhydrogen microscope’ and the other magnified on the same scale, so Either/Or, I 513 that he perceived everything relatively.—JP V 5281 (Pap. ILA 203) December 10, 1837 See 24:26-29; Precisely because humor wants to have the absolute without the relative, it fumbles about in the most desperate leaping, al- ways within the most appalling relativity— The same glass magnifies (a blade of grass is worth more than all ingenuity) and diminishes (rather hear wisdom from the mouth of a Pharisee against his will than from an apos- tle) —'°’—J P 11 1722 (Pap. II A 49) n.d., 1840 See 25:1-11: Irony no longer stands out the way it used to. I have often thought it was a kind of irony of the world when, for example, a horsefly sat on a man’s nose the very moment he made his last running leap to throw himself into the Thames, when in the story of Loki and the dwarf,!° after Eitri has gone away and Brock stands by the bellows, a fly settles on his nose three times—here the ironical appears as one of Loki’s intrigues to prevent him from winning the wager, and in the other case it is a grandiose human plan that is horridly ridiculed by a horsefly.—JP II 1697 (Pap. Il A 112) July 8, 1837 See 25:6-7: One who walked along contemplating suicide—at that very moment a stone fell down and killed him, and he ended with the words: Praise the Lord!—JP Il 1672 (Pap. I A 158) n.d., 1836 From sketch; see 25:12-18: On the whole, I lack the patience to live; to acquire children seems ridiculous to me; where would I find time to wait for them to grow up—I cannot see the grass grow, but if I cannot 514 Supplement do that, I do not care to look at it. My views are the superficial observations of a ‘‘fahrende Skolastisker [traveling scholastic]” who dashes through life in the greatest haste. It is said that our Lord satisfies the stomach before the eyes; it is not so with me—my eyes are surfeited and bored with everything, al- though I hunger—Pap. III B 179:8 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 25:19-28: Above all, do not ask me for reasons—a young girl is usu- ally excused for not being able to give reasons; she lives too much in feelings—with me it is different. Ordinarily, I have so many and most often such mutually contradictory reasons that it is impossible for me to enunciate them, least of all simulta- neously in pairs, as is proper. In addition, very frequently a lit- tle trifle determines the issue. So you see that for this reason it is impossible for me to give reasons. —It also scems to me that with cause and effect the relation is not right, for sometimes enormous gewaltige [powerful] causes produce a very klein [small] and slight little effect—indeed, sometimes no effect at all; sometimes a nimble little cause produces a colossal effect, a mouse a mountain.—Pap. III B 179:9 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 25:29-35: pied 4 and these innocent pleasures...they have only one flaw, that they are so innocent, and particularly that they are to be enjoyed in moderation. —My physician sometimes prescribes a diet. There is some reason in that; one abstains from certain specified things, but to be dietetic in keeping the diet is indeed all too dreadful.—Pap. III B 179:10 n.d., 1841-42 See 26:10-14: I am so unhappy at present that in my dreams I am inde- scribably happy.—JP V 5381 (Pap. II A 415) a.d., 1839 A riddle—one ought always be that not in the substantial sense but subjectively—my life knows no law and therefore is unpredictable. Not only am [a riddle to people, but Iam that to myself. It is absolutely splendid. I examine myself and tease myself, and if I am tired of that, I smoke a cigar for diversion and think: God knows what our Lord actually intended with me or what he wants to make of me.—Pap. III B 179:13 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 21:23-27:2: No woman in maternity confinement can have stranger and more impatient wishes than I have. And if I am not like a woman in confinement, I am continually experiencing the sensual rapture and pain of childbirth. —Sometimes these wishes involve the most insignificant things, sometimes the most sublime, but all with the momentary wildness of the soul. I can wish for a certain food—not with Esau’s starving hunger, '°? but with the sensual rapture of a woman in confine- ment. I can wish to see through the deep things of God with the same passion. At this moment I wish for—a bow] of buck- wheat cereal. I can remember from my school days that we al- ways had buckwheat cereal on Wednesdays and Wednesday afternoons we had recess from school. I recall how smooth and white the cereal was served, how the butter smiled at me, how warm it was, how impatient I was to get permission to begin. At this moment, I would give everything for a bow] of buckwheat cereal.—Pap. III B 179:14 n.d., 1841-42 See 27:3-11: One must not be in too much of a hurry with one’s rebirth, lest it go as it did with the sorcerer Virgilius when he was going to rejuvenate himself and to that end had let himself be put to death (hacked to pieces), and then, through the careless- ness of the one who was supposed to watch the kettle, it was 516 Supplement 516 Supplement opened too soon, and Virgilius, who at this point had just be- come an infant, disappeared with a doleful wail.—JP IV 4399 (Pap. If A 152) August 31, 1837 See 27:3-11: You well know the story about the sorcerer Vergilius, who wanted to rejuvenate himself—bear it in mind. (In order to mystify the readers, this story must not be developed further. On the whole, rnore must be done in this respect.)—Pap. II] B 41:7 n.d., 1841 From sketch; see 27:3-11: Like the sorcerer Virgilius (he appears in Hagen’s Marchen),''° I hack myself to pieces, put myself into a caldron and let myself cook in order to be rejuvenated. Virgilius also did the same. He arranged for someone to hack him to pieces, to put him in a caldron, and now he was supposed to cook for eight days, and the other person was supposed to see to it that no interloper came to peer into the caldron. But the watchman himself could not resist the temptation; he peered in, and too soon, and Virgilius, as an infant, disappeared with a scream. So also with me; I have peered too soon into the caldron, into the machinery of life and its historical process, and now I res- cue only my childhood—with a scream.—Pap. HI B 179:15 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 27:29-28:9: pha even though our Lord keeps ever so orderly an ac- count book according to Italian bookkeeping It is not modern literature’s shocks I need, but it is the pathos of true passion, its drastic power. There they hate hurd a2 there the voice of love and of cursing is so loud that it forces its way to the throne of God—there they sin.—Pap. Ili B 179:17 n.d., 1841-42 I divide my time as follows. The one half I sleep; the other half I dream. Most people do not dream at all. That is always good insofar as they do not dream in their sleep. Sleep ought not to be disturbed by dreams. There is something of great ge- nius about sleep. But one ought to dream when awake.—Pap. Ill B 179:18 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 29:6-11: My soul is so heavy that no thought can carry it any longer, no wingbeat can lift it up into the ether any more; only rarely is it moved, and when that happens it does not rise toward the higher regions but skims along the ground, just as birds fly low in distressed flight when a thunderstorm is blowing up— and in the same way a secret anxiety broods over my whole inner being, an oppressiveness that forebodes an earth- quake.—Pap. III B 179:24 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 29:21-31: Not even girls appeal to me—their beauty passes away like a dream and like yesterday when it is past. —Their faithful- ness—what shall I say about it. Either they are faithless—this does not concern me; it’s all too familiar to me—or if one found a faithful [girl], then from the standpoint of an excep- tion she certainly will appeal to me, but, on the other hand, from the standpoint of a long period of time she would not ap- peal to me, for either she would continually remain faithful, and it would go with me in my eagerness for experience just as it would have gone with that judge (who out of conscientious- ness submitted himself to every possible punishment) if he had gone so far as to have himself executed, or there would come a time when she would lapse, and then we would come under the above.—Pap. III B 179:26 n.d., 1841-42 518 Supplement From sketch; see 29:32-30:26: Wretched fate, in vain do you prink up your wrinkled face like an old prostitute, I still recognize you; in vain do you put your hair in curls, I recognize you. You have lost; you also have your old rigamarole, your Idem per Idem [the same by the same]; in vain do you warm up the same story. You bore me as a fool bores his master; it is your old acrobatics, the same somersaults—* Come, sleep and death; you promise nothing; you hold so much more.** in vain do you jingle your fool’s bells— I do not blame Nero for burning down Rome, but I wish I knew if he knew how to enjoy it. To burn Rome down be- cause he wanted to see the show and also because he wanted to see a dove make its escape over the sea of fire—that would be a pleasure.
*There is still nothing new under the sun.!'! You are your own echo.
*T shall lay me down to sleep, and if you have found out anything new, then come and call me.—Pap. II B 179:30 #.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 29:32-30:2: Come, sleep and death; you promise nothing; you hold so much more. I shall lay me down to sleep, and if you have found out anything new, then come and call me.—Pap. HI B 179:32 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 30:3-29: Those two familiar violin strains, which Mozart uses with his boundless genius to dialecticize his Don Giovanni out of morality’s substantial, unexplained, mute depths, to show him vanishing or, more correctly, let him vanish far off in the horizon, in a twinkling let him run away like a shadow far be- yond the farthest streak of horizon, as if there were an infinity between these two powers, as if the whole world lay between Either/Or, I 519 these two worlds—those two violin strains, this very mo- ment, here in the middle of the street—have I lost my mind? —Is it my ears, which for love of Mozart’s music have ceased to hear? —Is this the reward of the god, to give unfortunate me, who sits like the lame and the blind at the entrance to the temple of music and begs from those who enter, to give me ears which themselves present what they hear? Only those two violin strains—for now I hear nothing more. Just as in that im- mortal overture they spring forth from the deep choral tones, so here they leap at me out of the strect noise and tumult with the total surprise of a revelation. It must be close by, for now I hear his light dance again. Those passing by probably think I have lost my mind; I imagine that my face looks like a question mark, asking: Don’t you hear anything? Answer: I beg your pardon? —There is of, course, a confounded racket. —Now I see them: So it is to you, you two unfortunate artists, I owe this surprise! —One was probably seventeen years old, wear- ing a green Kalmuk coat with large bone buttons; the coat it- self was too large for him. He held the violin tightly under his chin; his cap was pulled down over his eyes; his hand was con- cealed in a fingerless glove, and his fingers were red and blue with cold. The other one was older and wore a chenille coat. Both were blind. A litte girl, who presumably guided them, stood in front of them and thrust her hands under her scarf. We gathered one by one, a few admirers of those melodies—a postman with his mailbag, a little boy, a couple of dock work- ers. The elegant carriages rolled noisily by; the carts and wag- ons drowned out the melodies, which occasionally emerged fragmentarily from the engulfing noise.
For me it was a rendezvous.—JP III 2790 (Pap. HI B 179:34) n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 31:27-32:2: I seem destined to run through all moods; I lie like a child who is supposed to learn to swim—TI scream—this I have learned from the Greeks—when the support is taken away.— Pap. Il B 128 n.d., 1841-42 520 Supplement From sketch; see 32:18-26: For me there is nothing more dangerous than to recollect [erindre]. As soon as I have recollected a life relationship, it is impossible for me to have any interest in it again. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder; well, ifin the very same moment the recollection awakens I could return with all love’s youthfulness, it is not impossible; if I first have time to expe- rience what I all too often have experienced, that recollection is more richly satisfying than all actuality—then it is all over. Then such a life relationship has already passed into eternity and has no temporal interest.—Pap. III B 179:46 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 32:27-33:12: If anyone should keep a diary, I am the one. It frequently happens that with the passage of some time I have completely forgotten the reasons that moved me to do this or that, and it is not only trivialities in life but often the most crucial step. Then again it can happen that it suddenly occurs to me why it was, and I then have the great joy of perceiving that I did have good reason for it. I would have this joy far more often and not the opposite pain if I had everything written down; I could then check on it immediately. At times, it no doubt would happen that I could not understand my own reasons. On the whole, a reason is a poor wretch of a thing—if I regard it with all my passion, this reason develops into an enormous neces- sity that would set heaven and earth in motion; at other times, I walk coldly and proudly by. For example, I have been spec- ulating for some time now about what really was the reason that moved me to resign as a schoolteacher. When I think about it now, it seems to be that such an appointment was just the thing for me. Today was my good day, and the motivating reason really dawned on me with all its convincing power. I had to live next door to another teacher, which was altogether intolerable to me. Add to that the fact that since I above all had to consider myself qualified to be a schoolteacher, I would have everything to fear if 1 was not eminently successful, and Either/Or, I 521 Either/Or, I 521 for that reason I considered it most proper to resign my post and seek employment with a traveling theater company. No doubt people think that one should never commit oneself to the art without an inner call as the motivation for it, but this is not correct. If one has a call to it, one always ought to keep away from it.—Pap. II] B 179:47 n.d., 1841-42 From draft; see 33:27-31: Now I dive down once again into the depths—and there I hide myself in myself; I envelop myself within myself— I live on depression.—Pap. III B 186 n.d., 1842 From sketch; see 33:32-34:14: In my life the same thing has happened to me that according to legend happened to Parmeniscus, who in the Trophonean cave lost the ability to laugh but acquired it again on the island of Delos upon seeing a shapeless block that was said to be the image of the goddess Leto. I spent my childhood in the cave of Trophonius and forgot how to laugh or never learned, but when I became an adult, when I opened my eyes and saw ac- tuality, then I started to laugh and have never stopped laugh- ing since that time. So it goes: some people have a happy child- hood and become almost anxious about actuality—I am not afraid of actuality but of the unactual, of the kingdom of sighs into which I have peered. Actuality did not give the ideal, but the ideal of which I had a vague notion was an ideal of pain. And is it not indeed ludicrous. (Develop polemic here.) —Pap. il B 179:51 n.d., 1841-42 See 34:15-23: Hero legends are permeated by a very remarkable self-con- tradiction, an utterly naive lie (which is why these stories are so easily parodied). I shall take only one example from the saga of Hervor and King Heidrek found in Rafn’s Nordiske Koem- II A 36 34 If A 36 35 522 Supplement pehistorier, II. It is not simply forgetfulness of what was said previously which accounts for reporting practically every hero as the strongest etc., but also something of a quite different kind. Thus on p. 8 it tells that Svafurlame gets Tyrfing from the trolls, a sword with the special characteristic that every time it was drawn it would prove fatal to someone; he now proceeds to draw the sword, attacks the trolls, but he does not touch them and consequently should have killed himself. Fur- ther along on page 8, where Angantyr is about to do battle with Hialmar. but Odd advises him to let him go instead, be- cause he had a silk shirt with which no steel could make con- tact (consequently a sword that cuts everything—and on the other hand a shirt that cannot be cut up by any sword).[*] An- other contradiction in all such tales is in the conception of the way the warriors live; the stories dwell upon their great cour- age, passion for fighting, etc., and at the same time portray them most anxiously taking care to have not only good weap- ons but even enchanted weapons which would give an other- wise wretched warrior the advantage over the proudest war- rior.[**] At the same time, in the story about the battle it is overlooked that only one of the warriors had this auxiliary help, and it takes a terribly long time for the victory to be de- cided—yes, he is just barely victorious. —In this romantic life there is an irony still slumbering in and with its immediacy. — Also related to this is the splendid naiveté in the story about the chain that bound the Fenris wolf; five things that are not to be found in this world are named, and it is said of them: Thus they are not to be found in the world. —Thor, when he is fish- ing for the Midgaard serpent, thrusts his legs through the boat (no doubt physically impossible) and ends up standing on the bottom of the sea.!!?
[*]In margin: Similarly in @rvarodd’s Saga, in the third part of Kempehistorier by Rafn, on p. 118, where he battles with @gmund and the latter says: Ismote your arm, but it was not cut, although I have a sword that stops at nothing.
Either/Or, I 523 [**]In margin: or a costly salve that heals every wound.—JP V 5209 (Pap. II A 36) n.d., 1837 From sketch, see 34:15-23: And so I, while the whole world is unable to bind me, nevertheless am bound and rage in my chains, and I am bound with a chain that is unreal and yet is the only thing that can hold; just as the chain that bound the Fenris wolf was woven of things that were not (can be developed) and that neverthe- less was the only chain that was able to hold this monster—just so | am bound in the unreal and nevertheless real chains of my gloomy fancies.—Pap. III B 179:52 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 35:13-20: I should see about being of some use in the world, a man said to me today. Fine. To a knowledge of the truth I presum- ably have come, but not to salvation. What, then, should I do? Communicate my sorrow, my torment, to the world, make one more contribution to prove how pitiable and wretched everything is, perhaps discover a new, hitherto undetected stain [Plet] in human life, perhaps become famous thereby, just like those who discovered spots [Pletter] on Jupiter—?
If the treasure! owned were a Pandora-box—would it not be best for me never to open it?—Pap. III B 179:53 n.d., 1841- 42 From sketch; see 35:20-31: It is not merely general ideas that are recollected in every in- dividual; no, it is also moods that belong to the whole soul and yet are merely in recollection but by means of this recollection knit one to a past. Today I sat with little Ludvig on my lap [de- fect in ms.] I told him that I had rented a new [defect] described it to him, emphasizing especially that it was an old-fashioned sofa that had decided the matter for me, because I have had a B179:56 205 524 Supplement partiality for that time, in the same way as my [defect] had told it according to his grandfather. With an unusually intelligent [defect] he said that he also longed for those times. Conse- quently, he recollects through my recollection what I through my father’s recollection recollect of my grandfather. And [de- ject] a paradise, a golden time, etc. No, a sofa [defect] is some- thing over which to laugh and to cry.—Pap. III B 179:55 n.d., 1841-42 Deleted from sketch; see 36:8-12: I am just like the Lineburger swine—my thinking is pas- sion. Therefore I am expert at rooting up the truffles I cannot eat myself; like an elephant I cast all the problems behind me, tear them out by the roots, and it goes as fast as if that elephant were running at full speed, but it remains at that...— Pap. Tl B 123 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 36:13-20: In vain do I strive to resist. Already early in my life I was seized with a certain anxiety about my life becoming a poet- existence. Indeed, is there anything worse. I resist. In vain lam swept off my feet; I am predestined, and fate laughs at me when it suddenly shows me how everything I had done in de- fense simply becomes a factor in the poet-existence.—Pap. III B 179:56 n.d., 1841-42 Underlined in copy of Either/Or, I; see 36:13-20: In vain do I resist. My foot slips. My life nevertheless remains a poet-existence. Can anything worse be imagined? I am predes- tined; fate laughs at me when it suddenly shows me how every- thing I do to resist becomes a factor in such an existence.—JP V 5630 (Pap. IV A 217) n.d., 1843 Either/Or, I 525 In margin of copy of Either/Or, I, see 36:21-37:6: In a somewhat changed form, Diogenes Laertius attributes this demonstration to Diogenes, and he also names another as the originating author.—Pap. IV A 218 n.d., 1843 From sketch; see 37:7-28: How dreadful boredom is—how dreadfully boring; I know no stronger expression, no truer one, for like is recognized only by like; would that there were a loftier expression, for then there would still be something to hope, still one move- ment. There is a picture showing a woman ina harem. It is ob- viously not night but day; she is resting her head on a pillow around which her arm is bent, her other hand swings limply, her fingers are idle, are not even playing with anything, and yet she probably is not observing the length of time. —Just so do I lie, but the only thing I see is emptiness; the only thing I live on is emptiness, the only thing I move in is emptiness—I do not even suffer pain. —The vulture pecked continually at Prometheus’s liver; the poison dripped down continually on Loki. It was at least an interruption, a change, even though monotonous. —I suffer nothing; pain itself has lost its refresh- ment for me. If I were offered all the glories of the world or all the torments of the world, one would move me no more than the other; I would not turn over to the other side either to at- tain or avoid. —I am dying death,'"? as the Hebrews say. —Or what could divert me—well, if I managed to see a faithfulness that lasted in life (for lies and cunning and deceit and ingenious ideas: I seek in vain in them for anything surprising). —But my soul’s poisonous doubt kills faithfulness midway—my soul is like the Dead Sea, over which no bird is able to fly; when it has come midway, it sinks down in a stupor to death and destruction.—Pap. III B 179:58 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 37:29-36: How strange! With what equivocal anxiety about losing and keeping, people nevertheless cling to this life! How often I {Il B179:58 205 IIL B 179:58 206 Hl B177 189 Il B177 190 Ol B 179:60 206 526 Supplement have considered taking once again a decisive step, compared with which all previous ones were but child’s play—to set out on the great voyage of discovery, and as a ship is saluted with a cannonade when it is launched, so I would salute myself. — Or is it perhaps for shrewd economic reasons that I hide a reg- istered bond as a last resort? —If a stone fell down and killed me, it would not alarm me.—Pap. III] B 179:59 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 38:1-40:6: A Ded ae that which matters most to me about the whole of Either/Or is that it become really evident that the metaphysical meaning that underlies it all leads everything everywhere to the dilemma. The same also underlies the little philosophical essay: tautology as the highest principle of thought, namely, if the principle of contradiction is true (and it is expressed by either/or), it is (alas, but how many will understand it) the sci- entific expression for it, and it is the only unity into which it can be taken up and by which the system becomes possible. It would, therefore, not be esthetically correct to write a treatise on the principle of contradiction in this work; no, it is asserted personally—but the same seen from a speculative point of view, if one does not wish to go further, is an idolizing of tau- tology.—Pap. III B 177 n.d., 1842 From sketch; see 38:1-11: Tautology regarded as the highest principle in all science, as the only rescue from doubt, the only escape.—it is the su- preme principium cognitionis [principle of cognition], das hochste Denkgesetzt [the supreme law of thought].
its scientific expression is idem per idem [the same by the same] it is not as poor as one thinks it has the jesting manner the witty it is infinite in judgments Either/Or, I 527 the serious scientific and edifying when two quantities are equal in size to one and the same third they are all of equal size quantitative conclusions this is useful on podiums as well as in pulpits, where one says much without saying anything. —Pap. Ill B 179:60 n.d., 1841-42 In margin of copy of Either/Or, I; see 38:1-2: *Stilpo of the Megara school of philosophy has already for- mulated this.—Pap IV A 219 n.d., 1843 See 38:12:17: My journey through life is so unsteady because in my early youth my forelegs (expectations etc.) were weakened by being overstrained.—JP V 5401 (Pap. II A 510) July 22, 1839 From sketch; see 38:18-40.6: ‘*Bither/Or’’ is a talisman with which the whole world can be demolished.—JP 1756 (Pap. HI B 179:27) n.d., 1842 From sketch; see 38:18-40:6: These words Either/Or are a double-edged dagger I carry with me and with which I can assassinate the whole of actual- ity [Virkelighed]. I just say: Either/Or. Either it is this or it is that; since nothing in life is either this or that, it does not, of course, exist. I have watched conjurers do their acts, heard them explain it, seen the crowd amazed, but all the same I have done far more singular things with my magic formula. One can explain everything away—indeed, one can help oneself su- perbly. That is, a person always lives in such a way that he has I B179:63 207 Ml B 179:63 208 ght B179;63 209 HI B 179:63 210 528 Supplement a few elements of everything in himself; thus no devil can make him out: either he is a deceiver, and there are some in- dications of that, or he is not, and there is some evidence of that—ergo, he does not exist at all. That is: ergo, we let him stand, as the peasant said of the Round Tower.—Pap. III B 179:62 n.d., 1841-42 See 38:18-40:6: From A’s Papers Either/Or An Ecstatic Discourse .. seek wisdom, and you will regret it; shun wisdom, and you will regret it; seek wisdom or shun it, you will regret it either way; whether you seek wisdom or you shun it, you will regret it either way...
My philosophy, therefore, has the advantageous character- istic of being brief and of being irrefutable, for if anyone dis- putes it, he of course thereby proves that he has not under- stood it.* In margin: *Therefore, I have not like some philosophers can- celed the principle [Grundsetning] of contradiction by going beyond, because, not to speak of the danger involved in such a step, which necessarily must give a frightful start [Set] and shock in the whole body, something not easily overcome, it is also dubious to have such a subject [Undersaat] or, more cor- rectly, two subjects. To be sure, at times one does see someone riding two horses, which in itself is ingenious enough, but I have never seen anyone ride a horse and an ass, or a horse and an elephant. I am victorious over the principle of contradic- tion, because it cannot reach me.
It has two sides, length and breadth or, to express myself more concisely, shortness and narrowness. It apparently proceeds from the phenomenon just as I have shown in the first four Either/Or, I 529 sentences, but it is apparent, for it is beyond the phenomenon before it proceeds from it; it returns to the phenomenon ap- parently, for it never reaches it, since the true philosopher is continually eterno modo [in the eternal mode] and does not, like Professor Brorson, have only a few hours lived for eternity. — This philosophy is to be recommended also in practical re- spects, for it has been victorious over the most dangerous en- emy, death, for death is obviously tricked when it finds me dead beforehand.—Pap. III B 179:63 n.d., 1842-43 See 38:18-40:6: The universalized interpretation of the particular thesis— Marry or do not marry, you will regret it either way—is, so to speak, the epitome of all the wisdom of life; and the personal relationship a teacher should always have to his pupil is best designated by: May it be to your good [Velbekomme]. We can- not, however, say to a person what would otherwise be con- sidered the very best: The best thing for you is to go and hang yourself, for we have to say: Hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret it either way.—JP III 2586 (Pap. HLA 117) n.d., 1841, In margin of copy of Either/Or, I; see 38:20-21: pihsienes these words are ascribed to Socrates by Diogenes Laertius.—Pap. IV A 220 n.d., 1843 From sketch; see 40:7-14: One buries one’s relative, rides out in a coach, rides home again in a coach—is anything more ridiculous to be imagined! For that reason alone I could wish to have died as a baby, es- pecially if I were born in Nyboder. Then the father takes the baby in a little casket under his arm, goes out to the cemetery himself on a Sunday morning, is himself priest, gravedigger, mourner, etc.—Pap. III B 179:64 n.d., 1842-43 530 Supplement From sketch; see 40:15-35: Each one takes his own revenge on the world. I get mine by carrying my sorrows and afflictions shut up deep inside me while the laughter entertains everybody. If] see anyone suffer- ing, I am sorry for him, console him as well as J can, listen calmly when he assures me “‘that Jam happy.” IfI can keep on doing this until I die, I will be avenged.—JP V 5258 (Pap. ILA 649) n.d., 1837 From sketch; see 40:15-35: I engage in all sorts of activities with the greatest zeal. Then when I, often by working at night, have brought it to the point that I know I can achieve just as much as the best, I stop achiev- ing anything. Then when I hear others lauded for their achievements, I laugh, for I despise people and I take my re- venge. When I see myself held in contempt, set aside, disre- garded because I can do nothing, I laugh, for I despise people and take my revenge.—Pap. III B 179:66 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 41:1-5: My misfortune is this: an angel of death always accompanies me, and it is not the doors of the chosen ones that I sprinkle with blood as a sign that he is to pass by, but it is precisely the doors of the chosen ones that lack this sign, and he kills them, for not until they are dead can I really love them.—Pap. HI B 179:67 n.d., 1841-42 From sketch; see 41:28-42:2: A wandering musician played the minuet from Don Gio- vanni on a sort of reed pipe (since he was in another courtyard, I could not see what it was), a pharmacist pounded his medi- cine, and the maid scrubbed in the court* etc., and they did not Either/Or, I 531 notice a thing, and perhaps the flutist did not either, and I felt so wonderful.
June 10, 1836 And the groom currying his horse knocked the currycomb against a stone, and from another part of the city came the voice of the shrimp seller.—JP V 5144 (Pap. I A 169) June 10, 1836