My whole tendency and, I believe, the tendency of all men who ever tried to write or talk Ethics or Religion, was to run against the boundaries of language.
This running against the walls of our cage is perfectly, absolutely hopeless. Ethics so far as it springs from the desire to say something about the ultimate meaning of life, the absolute good, the absolute valuable, can be no science. What it says does not add to our knowledge in any sense. But it is a document of a tendency in the human mind which I personally cannot help respecting deeply and I would not for my life ridicule it.” —Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Lecture on Ethics
Paris change! mais rien dans ma mélancolie
N’a bougé! palais neufs, échafaudages, blocs,
Vieux faubourgs, tout pour moi devient allégorie
Et mes chers souvenirs sont plus lourds que des rocs.
Paris changes! but naught in my melancholy
Has stirred! New palaces, scaffolding, blocks of stone,
Old quarters, all become for me an allegory,
And my dear memories are heavier than rocks.
A voice reverberates on the bridge: “Open the eye!”
A voice from the top, ardent and mad, cries:
“Love… glory… happiness!” Damn—it’s a reef!” —Le Voyage by Charles Baudelaire, from Fleurs du Mal