Suffering terrible inner torment. I became a writer.

Then year after year I went on being a writer and suffered for the sake of the Idea, in addition to which
I bore my inner sufferings.

Then 1848 came. That helped. There came a moment when, blissfully overwhelmed, I dared say to myself:
I have comprehended the Highest. In truth, such a thing is not vouchsafed to many in each generation.

But almost in the same instant something new came crashing down on me: the Highest, after all, is not to comprehend the Highest, but to do it.

It is true that I had been aware of this from the very start; that is why I am something else again than an author in the ordinary sense of the word. On the other hand, I did not realize so clearly that by having private means and being independent it was easier for me to express existentially the thing I had comprehended.

Then when I had understood that, I was willing to stand forth as a writer, since having private means made action easier for me than for other writers.

But here it is again: the Highest is not to comprehend the Highest, but to do it, and note this well, including all the burdens it involves.

Only then did I properly understand that “Mercy” must find a place in the plan; if not, a human being would suffocate the moment he was about to start.

But, but— “Mercy” should not be included in order to prevent effort, so here it is again: the Highest is not to comprehend the Highest, but to do it.