»Art and morals are, with certain provisos which I shall mention in a moment, one. Their essence is the same. The essence of both of them is love. Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real. Love, and so art and morals, is the discovery of reality. […] The tragic freedom implied by love is this: that we all have an indefinitely extended capacity to imagine the being of others. Tragic, because there is no prefabricated harmony, and others are, to an extent we never cease discovering, different from ourselves. Nor is there any social totality within which we can come to comprehend differences as placed and reconciled. We have only a segment of the circle. Freedom is exercised in the confrontation by each other, in the context of an infinitely extensible work of imaginative understanding, of two irreducibly dissimilar individuals. Love is the imaginative recognition of, that is respect for, this otherness.«
Ein paar Tabs, ein paar Absätze und dann wieder „Vier Dinge, die wir bei Hausbau wieder genauso machen würden“. Instagram versteht mich noch nicht so gut wie TikTok, dabei sind wir schon viel länger zusammen. Echter Luxus ist über L. M. Sacasas, Ivan Illich und Simone Weil bei Iris Murdoch landen zu können, ohne dafür in die Bibliothek fahren zu müssen oder den Tee neu aufzugießen.