"The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from people’s hands, nothing we say now that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and wrists. The gestures were complex and subtle, involving a delicacy of motion that has since been lost completely.
During the Age of Silence, people communicated more, not less. Basic survival demanded that the hands were almost never still, and so it was only during sleep (and sometimes not even then) that people were not saying something or other. No distinction was made between the gestures of language and the gestures of life. The labor of building a house, say, or preparing a meal was no less an expression than making the sign for I love you or I feel serious. When a hand was used to shield one’s face when frightened by a loud noise something was being said, and when fingers were used to pick up what someone else had dropped something was being said; and even when the hands were at rest, that, too, was saying something. Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if casual eye contact was made with one’s lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it to be the gesture, not at all dissimilar, for Now I realize I was wrong to love you. These mistakes were heartbreaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn’t go round with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they’d understood correctly. Sometimes these misunderstandings were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose.Of course I know I’ve always been right to love you. Because of the frequency of these mistakes, over time the gesture for asking forgiveness evolved into the simplest form. Just to open your palm was to say: Forgive me."
"The first question is, what is the object of our science? The simplest and most intelligible answer to this question is that the truth is its object. Truth is a grand word and an even grander thing. If someone’s spirit and mind are still healthy, his heart must leap at once at the thought of this word. But then the ‘but’ immediately surfaces, namely whether we are capable of knowing the truth. An incommensurability seems to obtain between us as imperfect humans and the truth as it exists in and for itself, and the question arises as to the bridge between the finite and the infinite. God is the truth; how are we to know him? The virtues of humility and modesty seem to conflict with such an undertaking. - However, one also asks whether the truth can be known, merely to find a justification for trudging on in the banality of one’s finite ends. Such humility is not worth much. Such language as ‘How am I, a poor earthly worm, to know the truth?’ is a thing of the past. Its place has been taken by arrogance and smugness, and some have fancied themselves to be immediately in possession of the truth. - Our youth has been persuaded that they possess the truth (in religious and ethical matters) without further ado. In particular, it has been said in this context that all adults are wooden and fossilized and immersed in untruth. The dawn has appeared to the young people, so they say, but the older world is stuck in the muddle and morass of the everyday. In this context, the special sciences have been designated something that must indeed be acquired, but only as a means for the external purposes of life. Here, then, it is not modesty that holds off from knowledge and from the study of the truth, but instead the conviction that one already possesses the truth in and for itself. The older generation does indeed pin its hopes on the young, for it is they who are supposed to keep the world and science advancing. But this hope is conferred upon the young only insofar as they do not remain as they are, but take on the bitter labour of the spirit."
G.W.F Hegel, Encyclopedia of the Philosophical Sciences in Basic Outline, Part 1: Science of Logic [The ‘Lesser’ or ‘Encyclopedia’ Logic], Cambridge U, 2010, p. 48 (via fuckyeahdialectics
"The way you love someone is to lightly run your finger over that person’s soul until you find a crack, and then gently pour your love into that crack."
"I’m not good with numbers."