Ignorance (n.) is also a kind of experience — as Diana, who never gave birth, still came to the aid of women in labor.
Ignorance (n.) lets a man walk firmly over the ice; knowing it is smooth makes him timid — so too with love that does not learn about itself through comparison.
Ignorance (n.) as a sliver inside full knowledge keeps sorrow in motion and turns it constantly into pain — the modern note: unrest in sorrow, ambiguity in pain.
Ignorance (n.) qualified by spirit is dread, because it is ignorance about nothing: the whole reality of knowledge projected as the immense nothing of ignorance.
Ignorance (n.) is a Christian art: anyone can be ignorant, but to become ignorant of what one knows, and stay so, is the task.