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Schopenhauer, Arthur, 1788-1860

"The Essays of Arthur Schopenhauer; The Art of Literature"

They
neither belong to it nor are they in any connection with it, and hence
they excite no interest in those who are dominated by it. They belong
to another, a higher stage of culture, and a time that is still far
off. Their course is related to that of ordinary works as the orbit
of Uranus to the orbit of Mercury. For the moment they get no justice
done to them. People are at a loss how to treat them; so they leave
them alone, and go their own snail's pace for themselves. Does the
worm see the eagle as it soars aloft?
Of the number of books written in any language about one in 100,000
forms a part of its real and permanent literature. What a fate this
one book has to endure before it outstrips those 100,000 and gains its
due place of honor! Such a book is the work of an extraordinary and
eminent mind, and therefore it is specifically different from the
others; a fact which sooner or later becomes manifest.
Let no one fancy that things will ever improve in this respect. No!
the miserable constitution of humanity never changes, though it may,
to be sure, take somewhat varying forms with every generation. A
distinguished mind seldom has its full effect in the life-time of
its possessor; because, at bottom, it is completely and properly
understood only by minds already akin to it.


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