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monday lxxxvii

thus any work of art, as it proceeds towards completion, too often - i had almost written always - loses in force and poignancy of main design. our little air is swamped and dwarfed among hardly relevant orchestration; our little passionate story drowns in a deep sea of descriptive eloquence or slipshod talk.


there is a divinity moving you, like that contained in the stone which euripides calls a magnet, but which is commonly known as the stone of heraclea. this stone not only attracts iron rings, but also imparts to them a similar power of attracting other rings; and sometimes you may see a number of pieces of iron and rings suspended from one another so as to form quite a long chain: and all of them derive their power of suspension from the original stone. in like manner the muse first of all inspires men herself; and from these inspired persons a chain of other persons is suspended, who take the inspiration. for all good poets, epic as well as lyric, compose their beautiful poems not by art, but because they are inspired and possessed. and as the corybantian revellers when they dance are not in their right mind, so the lyric poets are not in their right mind when they are composing their beautiful strains: but when falling under the power of music and metre they are inspired and possessed; like bacchic maidens who draw milk and honey from the rivers when they are under the influence of dionysus but not when they are in their right mind. and the soul of the lyric poet does the same, as they themselves say; for they tell us that they bring songs from honeyed fountains, culling them out of the gardens and dells of the muses; they, like the bees, winging their way from flower to flower. and this is true. for the poet is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in him: when he has not attained to this state, he is powerless and is unable to utter his oracles.

many are the noble words in which poets speak concerning the actions of men; but like yourself when speaking about homer, they do not speak of them by any rules of art: they are simply inspired to utter that to which the muse impels them, and that only; and when inspired, one of them will make dithyrambs, another hymns of praise, another choral strains, another epic or iambic verses- and he who is good at one is not good any other kind of verse: for not by art does the poet sing, but by power divine. had he learned by rules of art, he would have known how to speak not of one theme only, but of all; and therefore god takes away the minds of poets, and uses them as his ministers, as he also uses diviners and holy prophets, in order that we who hear them may know them to be speaking not of themselves who utter these priceless words in a state of unconsciousness, but that god himself is the speaker, and that through them he is conversing with us. and tynnichus the chalcidian affords a striking instance of what i am saying: he wrote nothing that any one would care to remember but the famous paean which; in every one's mouth, one of the finest poems ever written, simply an invention of the muses, as he himself says. for in this way, the god would seem to indicate to us and not allow us to doubt that these beautiful poems are not human, or the work of man, but divine and the work of god; and that the poets are only the interpreters of the gods by whom they are severally possessed. was not this the lesson which the god intended to teach when by the mouth of the worst of poets he sang the best of songs?

he learned that the lunch hour was invented for the purpose of making dates; that no one had ever heard of oskaloosa, iowa; that seven dollars a week does not leave much margin for laundry and general recklessness; that a madonna face above a v-cut gown is apt to distract one's attention from shoes; that a hundred-dollar nest egg is as effective in chicago as a pine stick would be in propping up a stone wall; and that all the other men clerks called sophy "sweetheart."

some of his newly acquired knowledge brought pain, as knowledge is apt to do.

i have fulfill'd my duty, and brought the lying-in woman
back to her friends again, who all rejoice at her rescue.
most of them now are together, the rest will presently join them.
all expect that they, in a few short days, will be able
homewards to go; 'tis thus that exiles themselves love to flatter.
but i cannot deceive myself with hopes so delusive
in these sad days which promise still sadder days in the future
for all the bonds of the world are loosen'd, and nought can rejoin them,
save that supreme necessity over our future impending.

the other members silently dispersed. "where do you wish to be taken?" asked the president. "anywhere out of your presence," replied m. d'epinay. "beware, sir," replied the president, "you are no longer in the assembly, and have only to do with individuals; do not insult them unless you wish to be held responsible." but instead of listening, m. d'epinay went on, "you are still as brave in your carriage as in your assembly because you are still four against one." the president stopped the coach. they were at that part of the quai des ormes where the steps lead down to the river. "why do you stop here?"

"do you think liska was going for the old man?" began margit again after a few minutes.

the right card represents a critical element of the future. ace of artifacts (star stone): the seed of victory - perhaps as yet unseen. a challenge to be met and solved through the invocation of force. an opportunity to bring reason and intelligence to bear in the pursuit of justice and truth. an excessive power that must not be abused. may suggest new ideas or information that can reveal a solution to the problem at hand.

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