Something struggled into the light. Will felt the presence of it before he could see it. He felt an answer to the long ache.
Solving a problem for which you know there’s an answer is like climbing a mountain with a guide, along a trail someone else has laid. In mathematics, the truth is somewhere out there in a place no one knows, beyond all the beaten paths. And it’s not always at the top of the mountain. It might be in a crack on the smoothest cliff or somewhere deep in the valley.
Someone can save you with a kiss, but refuses. Maybe that is all that Judas wanted: a kiss. When he didn’t get it, he answered in kind. Thirty pieces of silver—what were those to him? He had given his answer. Then he went and hanged himself.
John Ajvide Lindqvist and Ebba Segerberg, Itsy Bitsy: A Short Story
The Professor never really seemed to care whether we figured out the right answer to a problem. He preferred our wild, desperate guesses to silence, and he was even more delighted when those guesses led to new problems that took us beyond the original one.
Yoko Ogawa, The Housekeeper and the Professor: A Novel
“To those deep persistent questionings which present themselves to every thinking mind, What am I? Whence come I? Whither go I?, Masonry offers emphatic and luminous answers. Each of us, it tells us, has come from that mystical ‘East,’ the eternal source of all light and life, and our life here is described as being spent in the ‘West’ (that is, in a world which is the antipodes of our original home, and under conditions of existence as far removed from those we came from and to which we are returning, as is West from East in our ordinary computation of space).” [via]