Teacher: Waiting, all right ; but never awaiting, for awaiting already links itself with re-presenting and what is re-presented.
Scholar: Waiting, however, lets go of that; or rather I should say that waiting lets re-presenting entirely alone. It really has no object.
Scientist: Yet if we wait we always wait for something.
Scholar: Certainly, but as soon as we re-present to ourselves and fix upon that for which we wait, we really wait no longer.
Teacher: In waiting we leave open what we are waiting for.
Scholar: Why?
Teacher: Because waiting releases itself into openness . . .
Scholar: . . . into the expanse of distance . . .
Teacher: ... in whose nearness it finds the abiding in which it remains.
Scientist: But remaining is a returning.
Scholar: Openness itself would be that for which we could do nothing but wait.
Scientist: But openness itself is that-which-regions . . .
Teacher: . . . into which we are released by way of waiting, when we think.
Scientist: Then thinking would be coming-into-the-nearness of distance.
Scholar: That is a daring definition of its nature, which we have chanced upon.
Scientist: I only brought together that which we have named, but without re-presenting anything to myself.
Teacher: Yet you have thought something.
Scientist: Or, really, waited for something without knowing for what.
Scholar: But how come you suddenly could wait?