The Itching for the Infinite

"What is most difficult for us men of the historical sense to grasp, feel, taste and love," he writes. "We can only evoke in ourselves imperfectly, hesitatingly, and with compulsion, the small, short and happy godsends ... [of] human life as they shine here and there." He adds: 'Our itching is really the itching for the infinite, the immeasurable... We let the rains fall before the infinite'