Only the original ideas seem to vanish to one who gets them by aimlessly walking along a silent alley, lit by the pole lamps.
By the time he gets home, he will have forgotten everything because of the ever recurring triffles which take possesion of his thoughts with such an authority that they seem to be incantations of magic spells.
He will have to console himself with writing down the same phrase in which, along with many others, he mourns the eternal disappearance of a gleaming and exhilarating idea, the loss of which he suspects is one of his life's greatest tragedies. This idea would have had the power to unravell an entirely new and glorious way of life. It is because of these losses that the state of Sehensucht exists. For some...
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