Only If We Are Capable Of Dwelling,

We Do Not Say: Being Is, Time Is, But Rather: There Is Being And There Is Time.

In No Way Can It Be Uttered, As Can Other Things, Which One Can Learn. Rather, From Out Of A Full, Co-existential Dwelling With The Thing Itself - As When A Spark, Leaping From The Fire, Flares Into Light - So It Happens, Suddenly, In The Soul, There To Grow, Alone With Itself.

Whatever Can Be Noted Historically Can Be Found Within History.

What Was Aristotle’s Life?’ Well, The Answer Lay In A Single Sentence: ‘he Was Born, He Thought, He Died.’ And All The Rest Is Pure Anecdote.

In The Work Of Art The Truth Of An Entity Has Set Itself To Work. ‘to Set’ Means Here: To Bring To A Stand. Some Particular Entity, A Pair Of Peasant Shoes, Comes In The Work To Stand In The Light Of Its Being. The Being Of The Being Comes Into The Steadiness Of Its Shining. The Nature Of Art Would Then Be This: The Truth Of Being Setting Itself To Work.