/lit/ - Literature

>>18786258
holy based and /lit/pilled

>>18755444
>he wants to understand poetry
>asks for philosophy "books"
ngmi

>>18727545
>>18727568
>>18727796
>>18728243
>>18727586
when you wake up in the morning, note that your girlfriend has taken 3/4 of the bad for herself, then get up, go to bathroom, take a piss, wash your hands, move to the kitchen and prepare coffee without making too much noise, what are you doing? do you think that a man with a lesion to broca's or wernicke's cerebral area doesn't think? your petty reduction of thought to language is but a symptom of the poverty of philosophy in general.
about nietzsche (not a philosopher) agreeing with heidnigger on language, well, it is a perfect example of the non-readers attitude, especially the "religious" ones: they just need to find their own beliefs in canonical writers. nietzsche says multiple times that language is not just different from thought, but also insufficient to express it. e.g. the last fragment of the genealogy of morality:
>Alas, what are you after all, my written and painted thoughts! It was not long ago that you were still so colorful, young, and malicious, full of thorns and secret spices—you made me sneeze and laugh—and now? You have already taken off your novelty, and some of you are ready, I fear, to become truths: they already look so immortal, so pathetically decent, so dull! And has it ever been different? What things do we copy, writing and painting, we mandarins with Chinese brushes, we immortalizers of things that can be written—what are the only things we are able to paint? Alas, always only what is on the verge of withering and losing its fragrance! Alas, always only storms that are passing, exhausted, and feelings that are autumnal and yellow! Alas, always only birds that grew weary of flying and flew astray and now can be caught by hand—by our hand! We immortalize what cannot live and fly much longer-—only weary and mellow things! And it is only your *afternoon*, you, my written and painted thoughts, for which alone I have colors, many colors perhaps, many motley caresses and fifty yellows and browns and greens and reds: but nobody will guess from that how you looked in your morning, you sudden sparks and wonders of my solitude, you my old beloved—*wicked* thoughts!

imagine lumping important things like literature together with worthless garbage such as philosophy

>>18453585

>>18450730
27.
i don't care about philosophy in the slightest.
warrior ethos, prussian virtues.
goethe.