When you see the thought-process, the process it is to become something,
the will to power, when you really are it present, without feeling tempted,
without making resistance, without justifying or condemning it, then you discover
that the presence is able to receive the new, and that the new never is a sense
impression; therefore, it can never be recognized or re-experienced.
When Dante - after his laborious journey through Hell and the Purgatory
finally has reached Paradise, and is looking into the light-wealth of eternity
- then his sight is rising so high that language can´t contain it, nor is the
memory able to maintain the observed.
Dante compares it with the one who has a sight in his dreams and later
doesn´t remember anything: only an imprint of the feeling in the dream is left,
a dripping of the sight´s sweetness in the heart.
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