The Self (n.) is unrest — the realized purpose, movement and unfolded becoming, returned into itself.
The Self (n.) is not this, that or the other, but only what it knows itself to be.
The Self (n.) as music hears it is the entirely empty self — the self without any further content.
The Self (n.) is the light which manifests both itself and the other: one side of the relation and the whole relation at once.
The Self (n.) stripped of all content is nothing but the empty movement of positing itself as other and cancelling that alteration — which is exactly what time is.
The Self (n.) is absolutely elastic: it supersedes even the supersession of itself, and rebels against its own reception from another's hand.
The Self (n.) in lyric is the mere vessel that carries a scatter of ideas, feelings and impressions whose only link is that one and the same self carries them.
The Self (n.) is not an unpunctuated duration: it becomes a self only by interrupting the endless flow of moments and returning into itself from them.