Da, so mrtve in žive misli. Mišljenje, ki se giblje na obsijani površini in ga je mogoče vsak čas prešteti ob niti vzročnosti, še ni nujno živo. Misel, ki jo srečamo na tej poti, ostane ravnodušna kot katerikoli mož v vrsti korakajočih vojakov. Misel, -- naj se nam je že dolgo prej motala po možganih, -- oživi šele tisti hip, ko se ji pridruži nekaj, kar ni več mišljenje, ni več logično, tako da čutimo njeno resnico, onkraj slehernega upravičevanja, kakor sidro, ki se vleče od nje v prekrvavljeno, živo meso ... Veliko spoznanje se dopolni le napol v svetlobnem krogu možganov, z drugo polovico pa v temnih tleh najgloblje notranjosti, in je predvsem duševno stanje, ki mu samo na skrajni konici sedi misel kot cvet.
Yes, there are dead and living thoughts. The process of thinking that takes place on the illumined surface, and which can always be checked and tested by means of the thread of causality, is not necessarily the living one. A thought that one encounters in this way remains as much a matter of indifference as any given man in a column of marching soldiers. Although a thought may have entered our brain a long time earlier, it comes to life only in the moment when something that is no longer thought, something that is not merely logical, combines with it and makes us feel its truth beyond the realm of all justification, as though it had dropped an anchor that tore into the blood-warm, living flesh.... Any great flash of understanding is only half completed in the illumined circle of the conscious mind; the other half takes place in the dark loam of our innermost being. It is primarily a state of soul, and uppermost, as it were at the extreme tip of it, there the thought is-poised like a flower.
In some strange way we devalue things as soon as we give utterance to them. We believe we have dived to the uttermost depths of the abyss, and yet when we return to the surface the drop of water on our pallid finger-tips no longer resembles the sea from which it came. We think we have discovered a hoard of wonderful treasure-trove, yet when we emerge again into the light of day we see that all we have brought back with us is false stones and chips of glass. But for all this, the treasure goes on glimmering in the darkness, unchanged.”