Geschick of being that has-been. At the same time we can prepare for the leap only by speaking in terms of the history of being, a history that has been experienced in terms of Geschick. The leap leaves the realm from which one leaps while at the same time recollectively regaining anew what has been left such that what has-been becomes, for the first time, something we cannot lose. That into which the leap anticipatorily leaps is not some region of things present at hand into which one can simply step. Rather, it is the realm of what first approaches as worthy of thought. But this approach is also shaped by the traits of what has-been, and only because of this is it discernible. We must take all that is ranged under the first four of the five main points mentioned earlier and think it back into the history of being. The fifth main point regarded the change in the tonality of the principle of reason. A leap from out of the principle of reason as a fundamental principle about beings into the principle of reason as an utterance of being concealed itself behind the change of tonality of one and the same principle. As a recollective anticipatory principle, the principle [Satz] is thus a "vault" [Satz] in the sense of a leap [Sprung] . If we fully think through the polysemic word Satz not only as "statement," not only as "utterance," not only as "leap," but at the same time also in the musical sense of a "movement," then we gain for the first time the complete connection to the principle of reason. l4SJ If we understand the word Satz in the musical sense, then what Bettina von Arnim wrote in her book Goethe's Correspondence with a Child also holds for our path through the principle of reason:

If one speaks of a movement [Satz] in music and how it is performed, or of the accompaniment of an instrument and of the understanding with which it is treated, then I mean precisely the opposite, namely that the movement leads the musician, that the movement occurs, develops and is concentrated often enough till the spirit has completely joined itself to it.⁴²

Said in the second, unusual tonality, the principle of reason sounds like this: "Nothing is without reason." The emphasized words "is" and "reason" now allow a unison between being and reason to resound. The principle now says what it says through this unison. What does the principle say? It says: being and ground/reason belong together. This means that being and ground/reason "are" in essence the same. When we think the same—more precisely, sameness­—as a belonging together in essence, then we keep in mind one of the earliest thoughts of Western thinking. Accordingly, "the same" does not mean the empty oneness of the one and the other, nor does it mean the oneness of something with itself. "The same" in the sense of this oneness is the indifference of an empty, endlessly repeatable identity: A as A, B as B. Thought in the sense of what in essence belongs together, the same indeed bursts the indifference of what belongs together, even more it holds them apart in the most radical dissimilarity;