The Inner Valley

  "I have learned that in addition to the spirit of this time there is still another spirit at work, namely that which rules the depths of everything contemporary: The spirit of this time would like to hear of use and value. I also thought this way, and my humanity still thinks this way. But that other spirit forces me nevertheless to speak, beyond justification, use, and meaning. Filled with human pride and blinded by the presumptuous spirit of the times, I long sought to hold that other spirit away from me. But I did not consider that the spirit of the depths from time immemorial and for all the future possesses a greater power than the spirit of this time, who changes with the generations. The spirit of the depths has subjugated all pride and arrogance to the power of judgment. He took away my belief in science, he robbed me of the joy of explaining and ordering things, and he let devotion to the ideals of this time die out in me. He forced me down to the last

A nightingale who happened to have no home of his own decided that he would try to settle in certain forest. The birds who were already there, however, had their own ideas about the matter, and soon drove him out.   One day, sitting disconsolately by the dusty road nearby, he was spied by another nightingale, who stopped to ask why   he looked so forlorn.   'I tried', said the first bird, 'to make my home among other birds, but they pecked, and they mobbed me, and they flapped at me until I had to leave yonder forest.'   'Perhaps you were boastful,' said the other nightingale.   'When, in a similar situation, I sought a tree of my own, all the birds first collected and asked me what I was doing, why I was singing.'   'Yes, those birds did the same with me,' said the first   nightingale.   'And what did you say?'   'I said: "I am singing because I simply cannot help it.”   'And then?'   'And