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But why shall we deify it? It will be a subject of hypotheses but not of religious worship. Spencer calls religious thought that which studies what is inaccessible to our senses. But this is partly science , or, if you will, philosophy. Man, says Spencer, will always feel himself to be in the presence of infinite and eternal energy , the source of all being.

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Of course, but why must man endow this infinite energy, this source of all being, with personality? On what basis will he isolate it from nature and place it above nature? But only on this condition can it become an object of religious worship. But morality is not identical with religion. Morality united with religion; it will also separate from religion. Lastly, morality is a question of social estates, of classes, of mankind , but not of the world. It is a question of humanity rather than of the universe. Bulgakov [9] and Smerdyakov. And it is not necessary.

Ein ganzer Mann, eine eifersüchtige Gattin

Feeling does not require proof. Sonate, que me veux tu? Religion deprives man and nature of their best properties and attributes these to God.

Religion by its very essence drains man and nature of substance, and transfers this substance to the phantom of the otherworldly God, who in turn then graciously permits man and nature to receive some of his superfluity. Once we have understood the secret of this draining we cannot conscientiously abandon ourselves to it. The Church is one of the pillars of capitalism and the true function of the clergy is to chloroform the workers to make them docile wage-slaves, patient and contented with their lot in this world while expecting a glorious reward in the next.

As long as the Church holds the minds of the workers in its grip, there will be little hope of freeing their bodies from capitalist domination. The criticism of religion is Criticism has torn up the imaginary flowers from the chain not so that man shall wear the unadorned, bleak chain but so that he will shake off the chain and pluck the living flower.

The criticism of religion disillusions man to make him think and act and shape his reality like a man who has been disillusioned and has come to reason, so that he will revolve round himself and therefore round his true sun. Our attitude to the dissenters: But we retain the right to struggle against the religious idea and supplant it with the scientific. Social-Democracy must, to use a well-known expression, snatch from tyrants their sceptres and from heaven its fire.

If we are to agree with him, we must admit that the question of religion is finished. The existence of God cannot be proved. He considers my ideas common to all people. The religious question is not reduced to the existence of a deity. The concept of god had its own evolution.

VOYCE - BABY LANGSAM (DESPACITO AUF DEUTSCH)

Many people use the word god while not sharing the superstitious idea of god as a personality. The origin of religion. Allegedly I began from the etymological definition of the word religion. That again is Cicero. I said and proved that it is right. I pointed to the development of religious conceptions. Then I indicated Spencer, Kant, for whom religion is a moral world system. Deity is not God.

And what is it? A pity you did not say. Mutual guarantee before God. My idea is original but not proved. The story of Alcibiades. Allegedly I said that Alcibiades, etc. Where did I get it from, etc. Yes, but what of that?

'Kerl' in Other Languages

Probably it can be explained by theocratic organisation. He is surprised at comparing of Kant and Berdyaev. Not Berdyaev, but Bulgakov. With Kant, God is not a personality but an idea. No, I indicated his two Critiques , [17] quoting almost his own words. I am supposed to have said that the Westphalian miners are Kantians. Never said anything of the kind. How does that follow? But the examination of religion in concealed form is beyond the scope of scientific socialism. Religious people penetrate the ranks of Social-Democracy.

I said too little about religion being founded on the conservative aspirations of the ruling classes. Good; I shall repeat: Social-Democracy cannot protect the proletariat from the intrigues of the ruling classes. For scientific socialism itself is not rid of religious conceptions. We think of the time when there will be neither rich nor poor.

No, it is not so. There is no religion here. Bourgeois property cannot be attacked today. Only our descendants can do this. The business of socialism is to propagate the future system and not to attack the present one. If we follow up, etc, at first the time of the socialist revolution seems very near, but later it has to be postponed further and further.

I did not turn back. Now I am many hours distant from that place; yet still I hear the rustling: Many a tear from my eyes has dropped into the snow. Its chilly flakes suck thirstily up my burning woe. When the grass begins to shoot, a warm breeze will blow there, and the ice will melt in torrents and the snow will dissolve. Snow, you know of my longing: Just follow my tears: You will course the town with them, in and out of cheerful streets. Mein Herz, in diesem Bache erkennst du nun dein Bild? You who so merrily babbled, clear, wild stream, how silent you have become: With hard, stiff hoar you have covered yourself; you lie cold and motionless, stretched out in the sand.

On your crust I carve with a sharp stone the name of my beloved and the hour and the day. The day I first met her, the day I went away; round name and figures winds a broken ring. In this brook, my heart, do you now recognize your likeness? Under its crust is there a roaring torrent too?

It is burning hot under both my feet, though I am walking on ice and snow; I would rather not draw breath again until the towers are out of sight. I bruised myself on every stone, so did I hurry out of the town. The crows threw snowballs and hailstones onto my hat from every roof. How otherwise did you welcome me, you town of inconstancy! At your bright windows sang the lark vying with the nightingale.

The plump lime trees were in bloom, the clear streams babbled brightly, and alas, two girlish eyes were glowing! Whenever that day comes to mind, I long to look back once more, long to stumble back again and stand in silence outside her house. Wie ich einen Ausgang finde, liegt nicht schwer mir in dem Sinn. Unsre Freuden, unsre Wehen, alles eines Irrlichts Spiel!

Trends of 'Kerl'

How I shall find my way out does not weigh heavily on my mind. I am used to going astray: Every stream will reach the sea; every sorrow too its grave. So brennen ihre Wunden. I only notice now how tired I am, as I lie down to rest. Walking kept my spirits up along an inhospitable road. My feet did not ask for rest— it was too cold to stand still; my back felt no burden, the storm helped to blow me along.

But my limbs will not take their ease, their wounds are burning so. You too, my heart, in struggle and storm so wild and so untamed, now in the stillness feel the serpent within rear up with its searing sting. I dreamed of bright flowers such as blossom in May; I dreamed of green meadows and the calling of birds.

And when the cocks crew, my eyes opened; it was cold and dark, on the roof the ravens croaked. But on the window panes who had been painting leaves? Well may you laugh at the dreamer who saw flowers in winter. I dreamed of love for love, of a fair maiden, of hearts and kisses, of bliss and ecstasy. And when the cocks crew my heart opened: I close my eyes again: When will you leaves at the window be green?

When will I hold my darling in my arms? Like a mournful cloud passing through clear sky when through the fir tops a gentle breeze blows, so I wend my way onward with halting step through bright, happy life lonely and ungreeted. Pity the air is so calm, pity the world is so bright! When the storms still howled I was not so miserable. Up from the street a posthorn blows. What is it that makes you beat so fast, my heart? The post-coach brings you no letter; then why do you throb so strangely, my heart? Ah yes, the post comes from the town where I had a best beloved, my heart!

Do you just want to peep across and ask how things are going there, my heart? Vom Abendrot zum Morgenlicht ward mancher Kopf zum Greise. There was a white coat of frost spread over my hair. It made me think I was already old, which made me very glad. Free Shipping All orders of Don't have an account? Update your profile Let us wish you a happy birthday! Make sure to buy your groceries and daily needs Buy Now. Let us wish you a happy birthday! Day 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 Month January February March April May June July August September October November December Year Please fill in a complete birthday Enter a valid birthday.