at follows, is ever sounding in my ears
like some spiritual watchword. The highest truths should be conveyed by
music alone, and would thus become more forcible and enduring. Be
steadfast--

I am again trying to solve the enigma of life.

Man may not do all that he can, or to which he feels impelled. Since he
is human, he must recognize the limit of his rights before he reaches
the limit of his powers.

At court they often discussed the saying: "Right before might." I have
melted down the phrase in the alembic of thought. I have coined it
anew.

How beautiful is the legend of paradise! The first human pair were
placed there; as far as their powers went, everything, with a single
exception, was permitted to them--and the fruit tempted them. But there
is no paradise. The beast alone possesses what may be termed paradise.
It is free to do whatever it can. As long, however, as there is a
prohibition which man, as a moral being, must know, there can be no
paradise, for perfect freedom is at an end.

What I mean is this: self-consciousness is gained by overstepping the
barrier. It is eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. From that
moment, man's joys are no longer provided for him. He must create them,
either from within himself or from his surroundings. Now he begins to
wrestle with nature, and his life becomes one of deeds. Work, whether
directed to self-perfection or intended to benefit the world, is a
second creation.

My every thought seems as if it were an inarticulate, stammering
attempt to express the words of knowledge.

The little world around me and the so-called great world that still
lives in my memory, now seem to me as if illumined and rendered
transparent by the golden sunlight.

To perceive the barriers, and thus recognize the necessity of law, is
liberty. I am free at last.

*

I did well in going out into the world again. Or do I merely think so
because I feel that I have done right? I am a freer being now. I have
ceased to be the poor soul that longed to return to the world. My life
is no longer a hell. I could now return to the world without fear. Now
that I can courageously forego it, I do not feel the privation. Oh, how
presumptuous we are to imagine that others need us! I, too, no longer
need any one.

*

The telegraph wires are being put up between here and my forest view.
The busy doings of the great world