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Winds. — How necessary to vegetation. Through the shaking they give the plant, the power of penetration they give the air. Are the string of the crossbow. — Movement is necessary to everything that grows, as to everything that lives.
To be in correspondence with the weather, that is, with the cold, the hot, the dry, the damp, the gloomy or the serene.
October 26.
Of the innocent life. How useful, through this alone, that it does no harm.
October 27.
Then we shall have nothing individual left but the particular affections we have acquired before. Each of us will be only a nature fashioned into a whole apart.
October 28.
Of piety. That there are circulations which this feeling alone can quicken. That the credulous lie little. That often they are little mistaken. Cures that come from heaven. In what sense the expression is just.
— Source of life, of peace, of joy, and of health. — Sight, hearing, taste, imagination, attention, discernment.
Writings that partake of the three most agreeable qualities of agreeable things — smell, flavor, colors, and that give pleasure at once to the three qualities of the mind which corresponds to hearing, sight, and taste.
October 30.
Strength without rest (in Lavater). — Powers always at work, activity without rest, movement without intervals, agitations without calm, passions without melancholy, pleasures without tranquility. It is to live without ever sitting down, to grow old standing, to banish sleep from life and die without having slept.
To think what one does not feel is to lie to oneself, just as one lies to others when one tells them what one does not think. Everything one thinks must be thought with one’s entire being, soul and body.
November 1.
That old age is the time when the chrysalis enters into sleep.
One o’clock in the afternoon.
The sight of kneelings upon the tombs.
Desire to be a bird, to be a bee. Man feels that his happiness is in the air. — And if one wished to be a bird, it is not an eagle, a vulture, nor a pheasant, a partridge, a parrot that one would wish to be, but that little bird, modest and endowed with amiability, a warbler, a tit, a robin, a nightingale, a bird of a middling and innocent kind. For one would not wish to be a hummingbird or a colibri either.
Time is like matter, intensity is like duration. (As with intensity, we are mistaken about their reality.)