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Quote by Max Stirner

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The Ego and Its Own

This book delves into the concept of the ego, examining its significance in shaping individual identity and consciousness. It investigates the ego's relationship with the self and the external world, offering insights into the complexities of human psychology and self-awareness. more

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Max Stirner
Max Stirner

Max Stirner was a German philosopher born on October 25, 1806, and died on June 26, 1856. His philosophical thoughts revolve around individualism and egoism, which had a profound impact on later existentialism and nihilism. more

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“I remembered the moment I read a novel for the first time. The texture of the soft paper touching my fingertips. The black letters blooming on a white field. The texture of the page I folded with my hands. 「 It isn't important to read the letters. The important thing is where the letters lead you. 」 My mother, who loved books, used to say this. At least for me, it wasn't just a saying. The gaps in the black print. My own little snow garden lay in between the letters. This space, which was too small for someone to go into, was a perfect place for a child who liked to hide. Every time a pleasant sound was heard, the letters stacked up like snow. In it, I became a hero. I had adventures, loved and dreamt. Thus, I read, read and read again. I remembered the first time I was about to finish a book. It was like being deprived of the world. The protagonist and supporting characters walked off with the sentence 'They lived happily ever after' and I was left alone at the end of the story. In my vanity and sense of betrayal, my young self struggled because I couldn't stand the loneliness. 「 This… is the end? 」 Perhaps it was similar to learning about death. For the first time, I realized that something was finite. My mother said, 「This is the end. 」 「There isn't anything that comes next? 」 「There is no 'next'. 」 My mother was cold as she told me a brutal truth. 「 However, just because it is the end doesn't mean you've seen the whole story. 」 Then she gave me wise advice. 「 Yes? 」 「 Read it again. 」 Reread the finished story. As a child, I didn't know what this meant. 「 Why read a story I already know? 」 「 If you read it again, it will definitely be a different story. 」 「…I don't want to. 」 I was stubborn because I was afraid of feeling the deprivation again. Then my mother said, 「 Do you want to read it together? 」 Thus, I learnt to read again. At first, I only saw the main character's position. The second reading showed the position of the supporting character and the third reading showed the position of the enemy. The story changed every time I read it. The story was over but it wasn't over. The story wouldn't end unless the reader gave up on the story. I still thought about it often. What if my mother had said something else at that time? All fiction was fake and it would just be a loss of my life if I read it. Would I then have a lot of friends? What if I didn't study hard, wasn't bullied and didn't run away from the reality given to me? Sparks appeared in the air and the flowing memories were broken. 「 Kim Dokja. You look relaxed. 」”

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“There was once a tiger-striped cat. This cat died a million deaths, and lived a million lives, and in those lives, various people owned him. None of those people he cared for. This cat was not afraid of death. One life, the cat became a stray cat, which meant it was free. And it met a white female cat. They became mates, and lived together. Time passed, the white cat passed away of old age. And the tiger- striped cat cried a million times. Eventually, the cat died again. But this time, it didn't come back to life.”

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