The World Is... The Natural Setting Of,

Being Established In My Life, Buttressed By My Thinking Nature, Fastened Down In This Transcendental Field Which Was Opened For Me By My First Perception, And In Which All Absence Is Merely The Obverse Of A Presence, All Silence A Modality Of The Being Of Sound, I Enjoy A Sort Of Ubiquity And Theoretical Eternity, I Feel Destined To Move In A Flow Of Endless Life, Neither The Beginning Nor The End Of Which I Can Experience In Thought, Since It Is My Living Self Who Think Of Them, And Since Thus My Life Always Precedes And Survives Itself.

Visible And Mobile, My Body Is A Thing Among Things; It's Caught In The Fabric Of The World, And Its Cohesion Is That Of A Thing. But, Because It Moves Itself And Sees, It Holds Things In A Circle Around Itself.

Our View Of Man Will Remain Superficial So Long As We Fail To Go Back To That Origin [of Silence], So Long As We Fail To Find, Beneath The Chatter Of Words, The Primordial Silence, And As Long As We Do Not Describe The Action Which Breaks This Silence. The Spoken Word Is A Gesture, And Its Meaning, A World.

Socrates Reminds Us That It Is Not The Same Thing, But Almost The Opposite, To Understand Religion And To Accept It.

Speech Is Not A Means In The Service Of An External End. It Contains Its Own Rule Of Usage, Ethics, And View Of The World, As A Gesture Sometimes Bears The Whole Truth About A Man.