Summary

Portrait of Ludwig Tieck Ludwig Tieck The Old Man of the Mountain — SECTION IX

If I do not forget myself this moment, I cannot recollect myself the next. — And death ——.
Is this revulsion of the pulse, this alteration of strain, this change of tune a prelude, a transition to a new piece of music? Every living creature exists to be devoured by another; man alone has apparently eluded these barrack-regulations, this military duty, and fattens himself up for the earth, that shattered chaos of stones and mould.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Ludwig Tieck Ludwig Tieck The Old Man of the Mountain — SECTION IX

The beating of the pulse is not only a sign of life, it is life itself. No feeling, no thought, no sight or hearing, no taste or sensation flows along with a rushing stream, but all comes skipping, wave upon wave, drop upon drop, and this is its being. One thought is cast out by another; our feelings are only felt as they shift between life and death: the kiss only thrills on our lips when a chill void has already spread over them; our delight in a picture, in music, merely gushes through us; one moment it entrances us, the next it has vanisht.
Source: Wikisource

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