“He who knows yet does not act, does not truly know.”
There comes always a time, said B., over a glass of bloodied fruit, when thought reaches an end. In what may be called the paradox of principle, what is considered to be inveterately good can come, through strict and principled adherence, to be bad and detrimental. You can be a fundamentalist of reason, too; and reason can reach its surfeit, after which time it works only to drain resources, to slow down processes, to distract one from what is truly important. “The wood that will not yield is broken;” so that “if you wish to strengthen it, it first must be made weak.” Thought is superseded and made meaningful by action. If something does not, cannot, or will not be made to work in practice, then it is by its very natural impracticable, and it can serve no beneficent purpose in this world of flesh and raw material. The sun shines onto earth and ripens its bounty of precious fruit; the rain descends to run down the channelled earth; a person rises each morning of their own accord and sets about his daily work—yet none of this is of any effect if the effort is not made to reap the harvest sown by earthen providence and mankind’s preparation. After the first thought, there is work to be done yet.