What is it that I employ my metaphysics on? To perplex our clearest notions and living moral instincts? To extinguish the light of love and of conscience, to put out the life of arbitrement, to make myself and others worthless, soulless, Godless? No, to expose the folly and the legerdemain of those who have thus abused the blessed organ of language, to support all old and venerable truths, to support, to kindle, to project, to make the reason spread light over our feelings, to make our feelings diffuse vital warmth through our reason—these[43] are my objects and these my subjects. Is this the metaphysic that bad spirits in hell delight in?

Coleridge

A deep glance proves its worth by becoming doubly profound. Not only downwards, which is the easier, more literal way of getting to the bottom of things. But rather there is also a depth upwards and forwards which takes up into itself profound material from below. Backwards and forwards are then as in the movement of a wheel, which simultaneously dips and scoops. Real depth always occurs in double-edged movement.

Ernst Bloch, The Principle of Hope, Vol. 1

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