Pleasure,
which, a great psychologist maintains, "craves eternity" is annihilated
in its perfection, knows no more of itself, and is a part of the lovers'
sense of complete unity. It does not "crave eternity"; such a craving is
its last stage but one, the outer court (further than which Nietzsche as
far as eroticism is concerned never penetrated); in the innermost
sanctuary pleasure disappears; it has no longer any meaning, it becomes
void before the new consciousness. The supreme ecstasy of great love
proves that the summit of human emotion is beyond pleasure and pain, and
does not acknowledge the limitations of bodily existence. Thus, of
necessity, the rapture of love must engender the idea of its own
eternity, the destruction of individual consciousness. I will quote in
this connection a few verses by Erika Rheinsch:
To open now my lips were vain indeed,
Nor word nor even kiss could e'er confess
What sighs and joy and grief and happiness
Would flash from me to you with lightning speed.
Pages:
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438