“I say that I am expressing myself in an inexact manner. This is true. This imperfection, however, is not due to the insufficiency of the means at my disposal but result from the fact that becoming does not try to be expressed. What I mean to say is that, in its mysterious power, becoming leaves no island upon which we can set foot in order to arrive at a definition or a judgement in its regard. With its waves is covers over all that we might be tempted to set over against it. It known neither subjects nor objects. I has neither distinct parts, nor direction, nor beginning, nor end. It is neither reversible nor irreversible. It is universal and impersonal. It becomes chaotic. And yet, it is quite close to us, so close that it constitutes the very base of our life. We would almost like to say that it is the synonym of life in the broadest sense of the word.”
Eugène Minkowski: Lived Time. Phenomenological and Psychopathological Studies, translated by Nancy Metzel, Northwestern University Press, Evanston 1970 page 18.
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