Chess and thought – next to them, somehow on the outside, man...

Chess – the wrestling grounds of meditative brains.

Man – a piece of living clay, swinging between flight and tears.

Must not lose you, must not lose eachother, I am telling you. You look at me with restraint, a kind of sadness, as if you know beforehand that tomorrow, or even today, walking together will no longer be possible, you and I – reason and man.

What is the price of a man's like? Up or down? they asked...

Culture sets apart man from barbarian, but not in all regards.