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There are books, and above all there are ideas which can never be ‘marked’ or impoverished by time. Rather, the passage of time continually enriches and transforms them. There are thoughts which will never be tamed, not once, not ever: thoughts which have something ‘wild’ about them (as Bion would have said), which bring with them the potential for ever more new meanings to develop from them.
‘Time is active and it produces. What does it produce?’ Without causing the irrevocable death of the question, Thomas Mann, in The Magic Mountain,