ripped.

We are so inveterately wedded to the conceptual decomposition of life
that I know that this will seem to you like putting muddiest confusion
in place of clearest thought, and relapsing into a molluscoid state
of mind. Yet I ask you whether the absolute superiority of our higher
thought is so very clear, if all that it can find is impossibility in
tasks which sense-experience so easily performs.

What makes you call real life confusion is that it presents, as
if they were dissolved in one another, a lot of differents which
conception breaks life's flow by keeping apart. But _are_ not
differents actually dissolved in one another? Hasn't every bit of
experience its quality, its duration, its extension, its intensity,
its urgency, its clearness, and many aspects besides, no one of which
can exist in the isolation in which our verbalized logic keeps it?
They exist only _durcheinander_. Reality always is, in M. Bergson's
phrase, an endosmosis or conflux of the same with the different: they
compenetrate and telescope. For conceptual logic, the same is nothing
but the same, and all sames with a third thing are the same with each
other. Not so in concrete experience. Two spots on our skin, each of
which feels the same as a third spot when touched along with it, are
felt as different from each other. Two tones, neither distinguishable
from a third tone, are perfectly distinct from each other. The whole
process of life is due to life's violation of our logical axioms.
Take its continuity as an example. Terms like A and C appear to be
connected by intermediaries, by B for example. Intellectualism calls
this absurd, for 'B-connected-with-A' is, 'as such,' a different term
from 'B-connected-with-C.' But real life laughs at logic's veto.
Imagine a heavy log which takes two men to carry it. First A and B
take it. Then C takes hold and A drops off; then D takes hold and B
drops off, so that C and D now bear it; and so on. The log meanwhile
never drops, and keeps its sameness throughout the journey. Even so
it is with all our experiences. Their changes are not complete
annihilations followed by complete creations of something absolutely
novel. There is partial decay and partial growth, and all the while a
nucleus of relative constancy from which what decays drops off, and
which takes into itself whatever is grafted on, until at length
something wholly different has taken its place. In such a process we
are as sure, in spite of