A Phenomenologist (n.) and a cobbler both have their working hours, but it is not a matter of indifference which one is.
A Phenomenologist (n.) carries out every kind of practice, actually or in sympathy, but never makes its end his end: he studies living-toward-goals itself.
A Phenomenologist (n.) is a split self: a disinterested onlooker who sets himself up above the I that goes on being naively interested in the world.
A Phenomenologist (n.) lives in the paradox of having to look upon the obvious as enigmatic — and of having no other theme than making the world's obviousness, the greatest enigma, intelligible.
A Phenomenologist (n.) never stops being a natural human being and speaking as one; he simply keeps himself out of his propositions — as the geometer talks of himself in his treatise without entering the theorems.
A Phenomenologist (n.) works like a scientific traveller in an unknown part of the world, describing carefully the trackless ways he takes — sure that what is faithfully seen keeps its value, yet keeping inner freedom even towards his own descriptions.
A Phenomenologist (n.) is one who, instead of speculating about a new Atlantis, has actually wandered the trackless wilds of a new continent — and will not be put off by geographers who refuse to make the journey.