We, men of knowledge, do not know each other; from ourselves we are unknown – and not without reason. We never looked at each other: how could it happen that one day we would meet? With reason someone said, “wherever your treasure is, it will also be your heart”. our treasure is where the hives of our knowledge are. We are always on their way, by nature winged creatures and gatherer of the honey of the spirit, having in the heart only one purpose – take something “ home ”. as to the most of life, the so-called “ experiences ”, which of us can Take them seriously? Or have time for them? In the present experiences, I fear, we are always “absent”: in them we do not have our heart – for them we have no ears. Before, as someone divinely dispersed and immersed in you, to whom the bells have just rumbling in the ear the twelve beats of noon, and suddenly wake up and wonder what it sounded like?“, we sometimes open up later Ears and we ask, surprised and perplexed entirely, ” what is it that we live?“, and also ” who we really are “, and then we count, then, as I said, the twelve vibrant beats of our experience, our life, our Be – Ah! And we tell wrong… because we are still strangers to ourselves, we do not understand each other, we have to misunderstand, we will always apply the phrase: "each of which is the farthest from itself” – to ourselves “ men of ignorance…

– Friedrich Nietzsche – In: Genealogy of morals

Ph : Willy Vanderperre