In principle, the first question can be decided only contingently; the second, however, apodictically

There is no muse of philosophy, nor is there one of translation. But despite the claims of sentimental artists, these two are not banausic.

By integrating the social process with the development of a person, it bestows the most frangible justification on the order determining it

Suffice it to recall the endless succession of "soit que . . : ," by means of which an action is shown in an exhaustive, depressing way in the light of the countless motives upon which it may have been based. And yet these paratactic sequences reveal the point at which weakness and genius coincide in Proust

a process of empathy whose origin is the indolence of the heart, acedia, which despairs of grasping and holding the genuine historical image as it flares up briefly.