Ordinarily (and in public), innocence is less than the defense and the fault is less than the accusation. And often in private, too, the evil is less than the complaint; but not always.
March 8.
Almost all men prefer danger to fear. Some even prefer death to danger, and their own loss to pain. This is because fear, danger and pain disturb reason. The horse throws itself into the precipice to escape the spur.
God directs and changes souls by means of bodies, and sometimes by himself and without this intervention.
To the merit of history must be added the merit of the historian; and likewise, to the merit of every material put to work, the merit of the worker.
God, God, God. — God; and from there all virtues, all duties. If there is one of either in which his idea is not mingled, there is always some deficiency or some excess in it. It always lacks either weight or number or measure, all things whose exactness is divine. If God does not [illegible] there, each day is an absurd distraction.
Truth! What would one say and what would one think up there! That is what truth consists in. Truth consists in imagining things as God and the saints see them; as one sees them beyond the world, when one casts one’s eyes upon them. One sees nothing truly unless one sees it from above.
March 9.
In its operations, logic starts from a definition and metaphysics from an idea. The one aims at conviction and the other at clarity and assent. The first belongs to the judicial, the second to the demonstrative. The latter is essentially persuasive, expository. The soul takes part in it. But in the operations of logic and arithmetic, a kind of calculation alone is employed.
The difference between an axiom and an idea, between a principle and a notion.
Everything that is incontestable is not always, for that reason, clear, evident and felt.
An illuminated head, and above all a head well illuminated.
There are strong heads that are not hardworking.
[…] Kλ — a butterfly’s brain.
A clarity independent of attention and reflection; a clarity [so] direct, which one feels or which makes itself perceived merely by opening the well-directed eyes of the body or the mind.
This is, in truth, childish; but it is said to children. Why, men perhaps understand childish things better than children understand reason.
Reason can warn us of what must be avoided. The heart alone tells us what must be done. God is in our conscience, but not in our gropings. When we reason, we walk alone and without him.
And perhaps one is not permitted to speak seriously of an animal in such beautiful terms (or to paint it with such magnificent words). And this grandiloquence is illicit.
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The Notebooks of Joseph Joubert, Volume II · Book Mode · Diotimos