“On quiet autumn nights, in holy hours of silence, when a tear of rapture sparkles on my eyelashes, I will secretly begin to write down for you schemata and pitiful fragments of those questions which we so much discussed together. You know in advance what I will write. You know that my writing will not be didactic, and that the pompous tone comes from my foolish incompetence. If a wise teacher does even the difficult as if in jest, an inexperienced pupil employs a solemn tone even in trivial things. And I, after all, am nothing more than a pupil who repeats after you the lessons of love.”
On the Pillar and Ground of the Truth, Florensky, 13.