When I Was A Little Boy I

Forgetfulness, The Unhistorical, Is ... The Atmosphere, In Which Alone Life Can Come Into Being. In Order To Understand It, Let Us Imagine A Youth Who Is Seized With A Passion For A Woman, Or A Man Who Is Swayed By A Passion For His Work. In Both Cases What Lies Behind Them Has Ceased To Exist And Yet This State (the Most Unhistorical That Can Be Imagined) Is That In Which Every Action, Every Great Deed Is Conceived And Accomplished.

The Loathing Of Mankind Is A Force That Surprises And Overwhelms One, Fed By Hundreds Of Springs Concealed His Subconsciousness. One Only Detects Its Presence After Having Long Entertained It Unawares.

But My Doubt Would Not Be Overcome. Kierkegaard Had Declared That It Was Only To The Consciousness Of Sin That Christianity Was Not Horror Or Madness. For Me It Was Sometimes Both.

A Love For Humanity Came Over Me, And Watered And Fertilised The Fields Of My Inner World Which Had Been Lying Fallow, And This Love Of Humanity Vented Itself In A Vast Compassion.

The Great Man Is Not The Child Of His Age But Its Step-child.