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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_183155fd-6c74-562b-bf68-d4f3b4910bb7">21. Kierkegaard, a variant spelling of the Danish for “churchyard,” refers more precisely to the church graveyard.

      Journal Two

      (July 15–August 19, 1847)

      July 15

      Another brilliant day—taking in the light, soaking it up like a pale plant after a long rainy season. Too much water, not enough fire. My master tells me the book he is writing will be called Works of Love, a play on words. His light, his fire, lies very deep within. Few would suspect such a book from what they see as his poison pen. I wish I knew Danish to read my master’s books, but in a way I feel I live them—not the way he does, of course, but vicariously: in, through, with him. His look alone instills, imparts something of his lifeview.

      Matt 21:23–27. Where does Jesus’ power come from—heaven or humanity? The high priests and elders dare not put the question so starkly, as an either/or, so Jesus raises the stakes. He may be a lamb, but he is not being led to the slaughter. He has choreographed the ritual sacrifice, or perhaps he improvises—at any rate, he is in control.

      Margarete and Faust are taking a walk in the park.1

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