The maximum of confusion achieved with the maximum of order: it seems a sublime calculation. - Umberto Eco

Thus we have on stage two men, each of whom knows nothing of what he believes the other knows, and to deceive each other reciprocally both speak in allusions, each of the two hoping (in vain) that the other holds the key to his puzzle.

«Так что же, – осмелился я спросить, – вы еще далеки от решения?»

«Я очень близок к решению, – ответил Вильгельм. – Только не знаю, к которому».

«Значит, при решении вопросов вы не приходите к единственному верному ответу?»

«Адсон, – сказал Вильгельм, – если бы я к нему приходил, я давно бы уже преподавал богословие в Париже».

«В Париже всегда находят правильный ответ?»

«Никогда, – сказал Вильгельм. – Но крепко держатся за свои ошибки».

I returned to the courtyard and saw that the sun had grown weaker. Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp and misty. Heavy clouds moved from the north and were invading the top of the mountain, covering it with a light brume. It seemed to be fog, and perhaps fog was also rising from the ground, but at that altitude it was difficult to distinguish the mists that rose from below and those that come down from above. It was becoming hard to discern the bulk of the more distant buildings.