Altruism and bread for 10 cents
It’s 4.30am – the whole city is waking up. I turn over on my pillow once more. Then I pull the pillow over my ears. The call to prayer from the minarets is calling from every corner of the city. „Let the people sleep“ doesn’t help. The whole city comes to life. A new day is calling us too.
Nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man; space, the air, the river, the leaf. Art is applied to the mixture of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a statue, a picture.
But his operations taken together are so insignificant, a little chipping, baking, patching, and washing, that in an impression so grand as that of the world on the human mind, they do not vary the result.
Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of the creation so far, as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy. Every man’s condition is a solution in hieroglyphic to those inquiries he would put.