they fall into the clutches of some less obvious but just as deadly conventional solution. for then everything around them is convention. wherever people act out of a prematurely fused, muddy communion, every action is conventional: every relation that such confusion leads to has its own convention, how ever unusual (i.e., in the ordinary sense immoral) it may be; even separating would be a conventional step, an impersonal, accidental decision without strength and without fruit.

　　whoever looks seriously will find that neither for death, which is difficult, nor for difficult love has any clarification, any solution, any hint of a path been perceived; and for both these tasks, which we carry wrapped up and hand, on without opening, there is no general, agreed-upon rule that can be discovered. but in the same measure in which we begin to test life as individuals, these great things will come to meet us, the individuals, with greater intimacy. the claims that the difficult wor

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