Is it possible that, in spite of inventions and progress, in spite of culture, religion, and wisdom, one has remained at the surface of life? Is it possible that even this surface, which would at least have been something, has been covered with an incredibly dull material till it looks like salon furniture during a summer vacation? . . .
Is it possible that there are people who say "God" and suppose that this is something one can have in common?-- Just look at two school children: one of them buys a knife and his neighbor buys one just like it, on the very same day. And a week later they compare their two knives, and by now they are barely similar: so differently have they developed in different hands. (Sure, says the mother of one boy, if you always get everything to look used right away!) I see: Is it possible to believe that one can have a god without using him?
Rilke
Here's
the larger context; the above is the part Kaufmann pulled into his book
Existentialism.