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Becoming Belongs to the Heights and Is Full of Torment
If I am always on the heights, I wear them out and the best becomes atrocious to me. Without the depths, I do not have the heights. A man who can no longer climb down from his heights is sick and he brings himself and others to torment. At your low point, you are no longer distinct from your fellow beings. There you live the endlessness of being, but not the becoming. Becoming belongs to the heights and is full of torment.