Thursday, February 3:
Letters from Prof. N. enclosing his lecture on Socrates. With the children to the photographer’s. Brought home letters (R. Pohl, Kietz, Klindworth, etc.). R. has been working.
Returning from his walk in a somewhat more cheerful mood, he calls me and shows me the moon in the first quarter with the evening star, shining companionably in the clear twilight. “It always looks like hope.”
In the evening R. reads me the lecture, which we find very stimulating. “Beloved music,” Socrates’s dream, brings R. back to the subject of the musical theme. “How much more significant does such a theme appear than any spoken thought! Schopenhauer is right: music is a world in itself, the other arts only express a world.”