And yet, and yet...It's less that I cannot understand Kant than that I am unwilling to understand him: His character (pedantic, snobbish, illiberal, utterly humorless), to begin with, disgusts me--And even if I agree that most truths are what I call moral truths, and that we are (if we are susceptible to the claims of charm, wit, character/personality, benevolence, beauty, gallantry, honor, and the wearing of learning lightly) obliged to believe them, I will not have them prescribed, or even described, to me (in so insupportable a manner) by anyone whom I so fundamentally dislike and distrust as the odious Emmanuel Kant. Not even by his witty ("Abit onus, obit anus") apologist Schopenhauer--who, after all, in his writing, is a pedantic bore. It isn't till we get to Nietzsche, that German moral philosophy takes wing; and then, though I frequently wince and sometimes shudder, I laugh and am persuaded.