One never arrives at the thing itself and never exhaust the meaning of it.
There is an incompleteness of sensible knowledge, there is an inaccessible transcendence
in the fragment of extension, there is an horizon around the place where I am
which is the liminal, a sensory threshold, the border to my seeing.
There is an incompleteness of sensible knowledge, there is an inaccessible transcendence
in the fragment of extension, there is an horizon around the place where I am
which is the liminal, a sensory threshold, the border to my seeing.
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