Man adapts himself to everything, to the best and the worst.
Jose Ortega Y GassetRead
"Natural" man is always there, under the changeable historical man. We call him and he comes-a little sleepy, benumbed, without his lost form of instinctive hunter, but, after all, still alive. Natural man is first prehistoric man-the hunter.
Interpretation
The essence of humanity remains unchanged despite social and historical evolution.
This quote suggests that beneath the layers of cultural and historical change that shape modern humans, there exists a fundamental 'natural' human being, reminiscent of our prehistoric ancestors. It implies that while humans have developed complex societies and lost some primal instincts, the core nature of humanity—rooted in survival and the instincts of a hunter—persists and remains vital even in contemporary life.
In practice
In a philosophical discussion about the nature of humanity.
Man adapts himself to everything, to the best and the worst.
We have not reached ethical perfection in hunting. One never achieves perfection in anything, and perhaps it exists precisely so that one can never achieve it. Its purpose is to orient our conduct and to allow us to measure the progress accomplished. In this sense, the advancement achieved in the ethics of hunting is undeniable.
I am myself and what is around me, and if I do not save it, it shall not save me.
We fall in love when our imagination projects nonexistent perfection upon another person. One day, the fantasy evaporates and with it, love dies.
Life is a terrible conflict, a grandiose and atrocious confluence. Hunting submerges man deliberately in that formidable mystery and therefore contains something of religious rite and emotion in which homage is paid to what is divine, transcendent, and in the laws of Nature.
We do not live to think, but, on the contrary, we think in order that we may succeed in surviving.
And the elephant sings deep in the forest-maze_x000D_ _x000D_ About a star of deathless and painless peace_x000D_ _x000D_ But no astronomer can find where it is.
Hope is the most sensitive part of a poor wretch's soul; whoever raises it only to torment him is behaving like the executioners in Hell who, they say, incessantly renew old wounds and concentrate their attention on that area of it that is already lacerated.
Well, I believe life is a Zen koan, that is, an unsolvable riddle. But the contemplation of that riddle - even though it cannot be solved - is, in itself, transformative. And if the contemplation is of high enough quality, you can merge with the divine.
Rights are best guarded when each person and group guards for others those rights they wish guarded for themselves.
Is childhood ever long enough, or a happy time, or even a beautiful summer day? All of these carry the seeds of the same fierce mystery that we call death.
Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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