Pleasure (n.) took hold of life and possessed it — and in doing so really laid hold of death.
Pleasure (n.) promises a plunge from dead theory into life, but plunges only into the awareness of its own lifelessness.
Pleasure (n.) scorns intellect and science, the highest gifts a human has; it has handed itself over to the devil and is bound to perish.
Pleasure (n.) does not bring on death; but a man who defines his fulfilment as his own pleasure meets death as an abrupt, total and blind ending.
Pleasure (n.) does not so much create its happiness as simply take it — it grasps life the way a ripe fruit is picked, one that readily offers itself to the hand.
Pleasure (n.) reaches its end only to learn the truth of that end: in the other it enjoys itself not as this particular individual but as a mere moment of a unity.
Pleasure (n.) is Hegel's figure for a self sure the world was made for its happiness, and its model is sexual love rather than consumption: the other stays independent.