The artist takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it, he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art.
Ernest BeckerRead
Better guilt than the terrible burden of freedom and responsibility.
Interpretation
Guilt can sometimes feel less heavy than the weight of total freedom and the responsibilities that come with it.
In this quote, Ernest Becker suggests that experiencing guilt is often preferable to the overwhelming nature of absolute freedom and the associated responsibilities. He implies that with freedom comes the necessity of making choices and facing consequences, which can be burdensome; therefore, feelings of guilt may serve as a reminder of one’s moral compass, which can help navigate the complexities of freedom and responsibility.
In practice
In a discussion about the challenges of adult life, this quote can highlight the burden of making important choices.
The artist takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it, he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art.
When you confuse personal love and cosmic heroism you are bound to fail in both spheres. The impossibility of the heroism undermines the love, even if it is real. This double failure is what produces the sense of utter despair that we see in modern man... Love, then, is seen a religious problem
All power is in essence power to deny mortality.
If the love object is divine perfection, then one's own self is elevated by joining one's destiny to it... All our guilt, fear, and even our mortality itself can be purged in a perfect consummation with perfection itself.
Each society is a hero system which promises victory over evil and death.
We might say that psychoanalysis revealed to us the complex penalties of denying the truth of man's condition, what we might call the costs of pretending not to be mad.
When you're 20 or 30, looking ahead, you see these benchmarks for relationships, career, ambition, sexuality, and they went off into infinity. When you get to 50, you look at what's ahead of you, and there's an end. It goes into a nothingness, a void.
I don't trust society to protect us, I have no intention of placing my fate in the hands of men whose only qualification is that they managed to con a block of people to vote for them.
If the other fellow can't tell you his story, you can never be sure he isn't trying to kill you.
There is no reason to assume that the universe has the slightest interest in intelligence—or even in life. Both may be random accidental by-products of its operations like the beautiful patterns on a butterfly's wings. The insect would fly just as well without them.
Perfect people don't exist. And perfect people, if they existed, would be very boring. It is imperfection that keeps life interesting.
To seek "causes" of poverty in this way is to enter an intellectual dead end because poverty has no causes. Only prosperity has causes.
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