>Not to contemporaries nor to compatriots, but to humanity I deliver my work, now complete, in the confidence that it will not be without value to it, even if this value, as happens with everything that is good, is acknowledged only very late. For it is only for humanity, not for the generation that now passes its time absorbed in the illusion of the present, that my mind, almost against my own will, devoted itself to unceasing labor throughout an entire life. >The lack of recognition during all this time did not make me doubt the worth of my work; I saw continually the false and the base, and finally the absurd and nonsensical, earning general admiration and honor, and I thought that those capable of recognizing what is authentic and correct would not be so rare that we would have to search in vain for twenty years around us for them, and that those capable of producing good works would not be so few that such works would later constitute an exception amid the transience of earthly things; otherwise we would lose the consoling hope of posterity, which is necessary to strengthen anyone who sets a great end before himself. >Whoever practices and takes seriously something that does not lead to material advantages cannot expect the sympathy of contemporaries. Most of the time he will see, meanwhile, that the mere appearance of such a thing prevails in the world and enjoys its day; and this is in order. Yet the real thing must be considered in itself, otherwise it will not be found, for everywhere any interest threatens understanding.
>wahhh i wrote stuff but no one likes it>im so misunderstood genus :(
>>24890866fuck off.
