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Goodreads - Homer

The Odyssey
Goodreads - The Illiad

--- WIKI
Homer (, Hmros) is the semi-legendary author of the Iliad and the Odyssey, two epic poems that are the central works of ancient Greek literature. The Iliad is set during the Trojan War, the ten-year siege of the city of Troy by a coalition of Greek kingdoms. It focuses on a quarrel between King Agamemnon and the warrior Achilles lasting a few weeks during the last year of the war. The Odyssey focuses on the ten-year journey home of Odysseus, king of Ithaca, after the fall of Troy. Many accounts of Homer's life circulated in classical antiquity, the most widespread being that he was a blind bard from Ionia, a region of central coastal Anatolia in present-day Turkey. Modern scholars consider these accounts legendary. The Homeric Question concerning by whom, when, where and under what circumstances the Iliad and Odyssey were composed continues to be debated. Broadly speaking, modern scholarly opinion falls into two groups. One holds that most of the Iliad and (according to some) the Odyssey are the works of a single poet of genius. The other considers the Homeric poems to be the result of a process of working and reworking by many contri butors, and that "Homer" is best seen as a label for an entire tradition. It is generally accepted that the poems were composed at some point around the late eighth or early seventh century BC. The poems are in Homeric Greek, also known as Epic Greek, a literary language which shows a mixture of features of the Ionic and Aeolic dialects from different centuries; the predominant influence is Eastern Ionic. Most researchers believe that the poems were originally transmitted orally. From antiquity until the present day, the influence of Homeric epic on Western civilization has been great, inspiring many of its most famous works of literature, music, art and film. The Homeric epics were the greatest influence on ancient Greek culture and education; to Plato, Homer was simply the one who "has taught Greece" ten Hellada pepaideuken.

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now begins generated list of local instances, definitions, quotes, instances in chapters, wordnet info if available and instances among weblinks












homeric ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to Homer, the most famous of Greek poets; resembling the poetry of Homer.

homer ::: n. --> A carrier pigeon remarkable for its ability to return home from a distance.
See Hoemother.
A Hebrew measure containing, as a liquid measure, ten baths, equivalent to fifty-five gallons, two quarts, one pint; and, as a dry measure, ten ephahs, equivalent to six bushels, two pecks, four quarts.


3. a synonym for kal vechomer.

According to Rabbi Chomer in Levi, Trans¬

According to Rabbi Chomer (Levi, Transcendental

Also, the ancient Roman fire god, who has always been identified with the Greek Hephaestos, popularly regarded by the Latins as having his workshops under several volcanic islands, but especially under Mt. Aetna. The isle of Lemnos was always sacred to him. He is represented, as are similar divinities such as the Hindu Visvakarman or Tvashtri, as a fashioner, artificer, or architectural builder of the cosmic structure; and like his counterparts, the smith of the gods and maker of their divine weapons, lord of the constructive arts, master of a thousand handicrafts, etc. Not only was his forge in Olympus supplied with fire, anvils, and all the necessities of a blacksmith, according to the figurative stories of Greek and Latin mythology, but he was attended by automatic handmaidens whom Vulcan himself had fashioned. The deity is prominent in the Homeric poems, where he is represented as the son of Jupiter and Juno.

Anaktes, Anakes (Greek) Also Anactes, Anaces. Kings, chiefs; applied by Homer and other Greeks to the gods, as for instance the Dioscuri. When used of creative powers, they are identified with the kabeiroi, corybantes, curetes, etc.

Artemis (Greek) Greek divinity, commonly identified with the Roman Diana, daughter of Leto and Zeus, twin of Apollo. Goddess of chastity and protectress of youths and maidens against the wiles of Aphrodite, she is celebrated in Arcadian rites and legends which are older than those of Homer. These show her to be a nature goddess, patroness of fields and forests, goddess of life-giving waters, marshes, rivers, and springs. As goddess of agriculture, she brings increase to the fields, drives away mice and pests, and is the friend of the sower and reaper. The legend of the Calydonian boar shows her to have been worshiped as a harvest goddess. She was also called the tamer, the goddess of the chase, and the healer. She is the protector of the beasts, rather than their persecutor in the chase.

Athena (Greek) Daughter of Metis (wisdom, wise counsel) and Zeus, said to have sprung fully-formed from her father’s head; with Zeus and Apollo one of a divine triad. Famed for wise counsel both in peace and war, Athena was the strategist, as Homer portrays her in the Iliad. As patron deity of Athens, she was the genius of statesmanship and civic policy. Certain archaic monuments show Athena assisting Prometheus (the intellectual fire-bringer) in shaping the first human body from the plastic stuff of earth. It is equally significant that she was connected with Apollo, the god of the seers and the sun personified, in producing climatic changes due to the shifting of the poles. Athena is to be found, variously named, in every theogony, as one of the kabeiria, those mighty beings “of both sexes, as also terrestrial, celestial and kosmic,” who when incarnated as initiate-teachers or kings, “were also, in the beginning of times, the rulers of mankind,” giving “the first impulse to civilizations” and directing “the mind with which they had endued men to the invention and perfection of all the arts and sciences” (SD 2:363-4).

Chomer (Hebrew cabalist and master of Gaffarel),

Chomer, quoted in Levi, Transcendental Magic, the

Cimmerians In Greek mythology a people who dwelt in a land of mist and darkness, variously placed, as by Homer in the extremest west on the ocean; in historical times, a people in the Palus Maeotis, who were driven away by the Scythians. The Cimmerians were contrasted with the Hyperboreans, who inhabited a land of perpetual sunshine.

circe ::: 1. In Classical Mythology. the enchantress represented by Homer as turning the companions of Odysseus into swine by means of a magic drink, therefore an alluring but dangerous temptress or temptation.

Circean ::: Relating to or resembling Circe, the fabled enchantress described by Homer. She was supposed to possess great knowledge of magic and venomous herbs which she offered as a drink to her charmed and fascinated victims who then changed into swine; hence, pleasing, but harmful; fascinating, but degrading.

circean ::: relating to or resembling Circe, the fabled enchantress described by Homer. She was supposed to possess great knowledge of magic and venomous herbs which she offered as a drink to her charmed and fascinated victims who then changed into swine; hence, pleasing, but harmful; fascinating, but degrading.

cording to Rabbi Chomer, an exegetical authority

core ::: n. --> A body of individuals; an assemblage.
A miner&

cor ::: n. --> A Hebrew measure of capacity; a homer.

Cyclops (Greek) Kyklops [from kyklos circle, round + ops eye] Plural cyclopes. Round-eyed giants; Homer locates them in Sicily as a lawless race of giants with one central eye, devouring men and caring naught for Zeus; their chief is Polyphemus. For Hesiod, they are three sons of Heaven and Earth, named Arges, Brontes, and Steropes, titan of flame, thunder, and lightning respectively. Later they were considered assistants of Hephaestus in his workshops under volcanoes and their number was no longer confined to three.

Delos (Greek) An island of the Cyclades group in the Greek Mediterranean. Called out of the deep by the trident of Neptune, it floated about until Zeus chained it down to be the birthplace of Apollo and Artemis. In Homeric times it was a meeting place of Ionians for religious and political purposes.

Delphi (Greek) One of the most sacred spots of ancient Greece, renowned as the seat of the most famous of the ancient Greek oracles, often called by the Greeks themselves the center or navel of the earth, though these sacred centers, mountains, etc., are numerous and are localizations of a general idea. Delphi is situated in a kind of bowl on Mount Parnassus in Phocis; its original name as found in Homer was Pytho, which connects it with Apollo, whose temple and oracle were there. It was also the place where the Pythian games were celebrated and one of the two meeting places of the Amphictyonic Council.

Dioscuri (Greek) Dioskouroi. In Greek mythology, Castor and Pollux (Greek Polydeuces), Spartan twin sons of Tyndareus and Leda; their sisters were Helen and Clytemnestra. In Homer all but Helen were considered mortal, but after the twins’ death they lived and died on alternate days. Later one, usually Pollux, was the son of Zeus and shared his immortality after Castor’s death. Usually Zeus as a swan is said to have seduced Leda, who brought forth two eggs, one containing Helen and the other Castor and Pollux. The twins rescued Helen from Theseus and went with the Argonauts. Castor and Pollux are associated with the zodiacal sign Gemini, and sometimes with the morning and evening stars.

Dodona (Greek) The most ancient oracle in Greece, situated in Epirus and founded by the Pelasgians. The will of Zeus was oracularly signified to the appointed seers by the rustling of the wind in the trees, or by the sounds of a spring arising from the roots of the sacred oak. This oracle, famous in Homeric times, was in later historic times superseded by that of Delphi.

Eileithya: A goddess of prehistoric Crete (mentioned by Homer); one of her cave temples was discovered at Amnisos (Candia).

epha ::: n. --> A Hebrew dry measure, supposed to be equal to two pecks and five quarts. ten ephahs make one homer.

essay ::: n. --> An effort made, or exertion of body or mind, for the performance of anything; a trial; attempt; as, to make an essay to benefit a friend.
A composition treating of any particular subject; -- usually shorter and less methodical than a formal, finished treatise; as, an essay on the life and writings of Homer; an essay on fossils, or on commerce.
An assay. See Assay, n.

fathomer ::: n. --> One who fathoms.

Gei’ Hinnom (Hebrew) Gēi’ Hinnōm Also Gai-hinnom. The valley of Hinnom, generally rendered as by the Greek Gehenna, situated south of Jerusalem, in which was Tophet where children were at one time sacrificed to Moloch (2 Kings 23:10). Later the place was used as a crematorium for the refuse of the city, perpetual fires being kept for that purpose. In the Bible it is translated as hell or hell of fire, but the Hebrew word bears no such interpretation. The Greek Gehenna “is identical with the Homeric Tartarus” (IU 2:507).

Golden Chain (of Hermes or Homer). See HERMETIC CHAIN

gomer ::: n. --> A Hebrew measure. See Homer.
A conical chamber at the breech of the bore in heavy ordnance, especially in mortars; -- named after the inventor.

Greece. Homeric thought centered in Moira (Fate), an impersonal, immaterial power that distributes to gods and men their respective stations. While the main stream of pre-Socratic thought was naturalistic, it was not materialistic. The primordial Being of things, the Physis, is both extended and spiritual (hylozoism). Soul and Mind are invariably identified with Physis. Empedocles' distinction between inertia and force (Love and Hate) was followed by Anaxagoras' introduction of Mind (Nous) as the first cause of order and the principle of spontaneity or life in things. Socrates emphasized the ideological principle and introduced the category of Value as primary both in Nature and Man. He challenged the completeness of the mechanical explanation of natural events. Plato's theory of Ideas (as traditionally interpreted by historians) is at once a metaphysics, epistemology, and axiology. Ideas, forming a hierarchy and systematically united in the Good, are timeless essences comprising the realm of true Being. They are archetypes and causes of things in the realm of Non-Being (Space). Aristotle, while moving in the direction of common-sense realism, was also idealistic. Forms or species are secondary substances, and collectively form the dynamic and rational structure of the World. Active reason (Nous Poietikos), possessed by all rational creatures, is immaterial and eternal. Mind is the final cause of all motion. God is pure Mind, self-contained, self-centered, and metaphysically remote from the spatial World. The Stoics united idealism and hylozoistic naturalism in their doctrine of dynamic rational cosmic law (Logos), World Soul, Pneuma, and Providence (Pronoia).

Hades or Aides (Greek) [from aides, Aidoneus the invisible] Son of Kronos and Rhea, brother of Zeus and Poseidon. When the world was shared among the three brothers, Hades obtained the nether regions sometimes equated with Dis, Orcus, and Tartarus. After the time of Homer the name was given to the region he presided over with his consort Persephone. This corresponds to the underworld, those regions of the astral light which extend from the highest kama-loka to the deepest depths of avichi; although the more restricted usage of Hades applies to kama-loka. Hades is pictured as a dark realm in the depths of the earth, surrounded by rivers. However, the meaning of underworld shifts according to the viewpoint had at any time, the earth itself sometimes being equated with Hades.

Ha-Shomer Ha-Tza'ir ::: (The Young Guardsman) Socialist-Zionist pioneering youth movement founded in 1913.

Hashomer ::: (Heb. The Guard) Active from 1909 till the formation of the Haganah in 1920, Hashomer was an association of Jewish guards who defended Jewish settlements during the British Mandate.

Hera (Greek) Olympian divinity, sister and consort of Zeus, counterpart of the Roman Juno. According to the Homeric poems she was accorded the same honors by the other divinities as Zeus himself, who counseled with her and also shared with her secret things unknown to the other gods. She is represented as Queen of Heaven only at a later date. Like Zeus she had the power to confer the gift of prophecy. Mother of Ares, Hephaistos, and Hebe, she was the goddess of marriage and birth, patron divinity of woman from birth to death, and of domestic duties. Sanctuaries for the worship of Hera existed in many parts of Greece, the principal center being Argos.

Hermetic Chain or Great Chain of Being Greek expression found even in Homer, signifying the chain of beings from divinities reaching down to inferior gods, heroes, and sages, to ordinary human beings. Each link in this aggregate of hierarchies, of which each link is itself a hierarchy, transmitted its wisdom and power to the next below it; and it is thus that knowledge was originally communicated to early mankind. See GURUPARAMPARA

hexameter ::: n. --> A verse of six feet, the first four of which may be either dactyls or spondees, the fifth must regularly be a dactyl, and the sixth always a spondee. In this species of verse are composed the Iliad of Homer and the Aeneid of Virgil. In English hexameters accent takes the place of quantity. ::: a.

hoemother ::: n. --> The basking or liver shark; -- called also homer. See Liver shark, under Liver.

homeric ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to Homer, the most famous of Greek poets; resembling the poetry of Homer.

homer ::: n. --> A carrier pigeon remarkable for its ability to return home from a distance.
See Hoemother.
A Hebrew measure containing, as a liquid measure, ten baths, equivalent to fifty-five gallons, two quarts, one pint; and, as a dry measure, ten ephahs, equivalent to six bushels, two pecks, four quarts.

hymn ::: n. --> An ode or song of praise or adoration; especially, a religious ode, a sacred lyric; a song of praise or thankgiving intended to be used in religious service; as, the Homeric hymns; Watts&

Hyperion (Greek) [from hyper above, high + ion he that goes] The sun god, commonly joined with Helios in Homer, as Hyperion Helios or Helios Hyperion. Also a titan descended from Ouranos and Gaia (heaven and earth) who pairs with Thea. Strictly speaking, the sun god and the titan are one, the distinction lying in this individual’s being viewed from two different aspects.

In Homer it is Hermes who leads the ghosts of

  In Classical Mythology. the enchantress represented by Homer as turning the companions of Odysseus into swine by means of a magic drink, therefore an alluring but dangerous temptress or temptation.

In the psychological division made by the ancient Greeks, the phren stands properly for that portion of the human constitution which is ordinarily designated as human mind or reason, the typical characteristic of the human soul which undergoes its devachan. Hence it is that Homer described the shade or ghost of Patroclus as having both psyche and eidolon, or animal instincts and kama-rupic shape, but entirely without phren — human mind or reason, which had already shaken off the kama-rupa and gone into its devachan. The reference to the phren still existing in the kama-rupic shade of Teiresias, in the Odyssey, shows that in this case this great Greek prophet and initiate is spoken of in connection with his nirmanakayic work in the astral world. So well was this known to the ancients, that Teiresias was supposed to retain all his powers after death, while the lower principles of other mortals who died became shades.

Kal veChomer :::
One of the thirteen hermeneutical methods, in which conclusions are reached by reasoning a fortiori.

liad ::: n. --> A celebrated Greek epic poem, in twenty-four books, on the destruction of Ilium, the ancient Troy. The Iliad is ascribed to Homer.

Mapam ::: A pioneering. left-wing labor-Zionist Israel party, founded in 1948, when Ha-Shomer ha-Za'ir merged with Ahdut ha-Avodah-Po'alei Zion.

moly ::: n. --> A fabulous herb of occult power, having a black root and white blossoms, said by Homer to have been given by Hermes to Ulysses to counteract the spells of Circe.
A kind of garlic (Allium Moly) with large yellow flowers; -- called also golden garlic.

odyssey ::: n. --> An epic poem attributed to Homer, which describes the return of Ulysses to Ithaca after the siege of Troy.

Olympus (Greek) The abode of the great gods in Grecian mythology in Homer and Hesiod. Such heavenly abodes are usually associated with mountains, such as the Hindu Meru, the Greek Atlas, and the Hebrew Sinai; in this case the name was given to the summit of the range dividing Macedonia from Thessaly, but there were other mountains called Olympus. Later philosophers, perhaps more mystically minded, placed Olympus in the zenith, as the abode of the divinities. There were many Olympuses, the references in story occasionally being to the higher globes of the earth-chain, and in a cosmic sense the higher planes of the solar system. At one time in Greek legend both the gods and their abode had a character of voluptuousness, comparable with the Hebrew Eden (which means “delight”), the heaven of Indra, or the abode of the Arabian houris; but this was when degeneracy had set in and the people had forgotten the significance of the deities, and lost the key enabling them to interpret the myths and allegories forming their respective mythologic religions.

Oracle A divine saying, or the place or means by which a divine message is communicated. The soul, according to Plato, has a certain innate prophetic power. The person in whom this power is fully manifest needs no means of communication; in some it may be manifest temporarily and under certain conditions. In the Greek Heroic ages, deities spoke or appeared directly to man, as we see in Homer. Later, indirect means of communication were used, which may be classed under the general name of oracular. In some cases the intervention of a seer was employed, as in the Sibyllae of Rome and the Pythian seeress of Delphi. Sometimes the “spirits” of the dead were consulted, as in the case of Saul and the wise woman of Endor, and Aeneas and Anchises. The earth and the chthonic deities played an important part: at Delphi, though Apollo was consulted, yet the priestess was entranced, as alleged, through the influence of vapors from the earth; sometimes descent into subterranean caves was necessary, and the inquirer might have to undergo experiences analogous to those of one who dies, as in initiation. Again, it was often customary for the inquirer to sleep in a sacred place to obtain in a dream a revelation from the presiding deity. Or the message might be conveyed by some sign requiring the skill of a diviner for its interpretation, but this comes under the head of divination and omens. The whole purpose was to supplement the intelligence of the incarnate man by appealing to truly spiritual intelligences.

otherwise Asmodel. According to Rabbi Chomer,

Paean (Greek) In Homer, the physician of the Olympian gods; in later times as Paion (Latinized as Paeon), transferred not only to Apollo as healer, but to his son, Aesculapius. Later it acquired a general meaning for a healer, then as a song of joy, praise, triumph, etc.

Pasiel. According to Rabbi Chomer, quoted by

Passages in holy scriptures, such as 1 Samuel, have misled many Europeans into believing that such methods of attempting to peer into the future were proper and considered morally permissible by the wise of ancient days. Yet one has but to read this chapter to see that the woman knew her practice was done against the law then prevailing, which apparently made necromantic intercourse of this type punishable with death (cf 28:9). Traffic with the dead was not infrequently resorted to in ancient times, but was censured as unholy, if not evil. Such raisings of the dead have been common in all ages by necromancers, sorcerers, and traffickers in lower magic; although it is quite true that ancient legend and story provides a number of instances where people of prominence resorted in moments of desperation to such methods in an attempt to gain foreknowledge of events coming to pass: for example, the incident related by Homer of the raising of the shade of the seer Teiresias by Odysseus (Odyssey bk 11) and again the necromantic practices of Sextus, the son of Pompey, through the “witch” Erictho on the plains of Thessaly, as described by Lucan (Pharsalia Bk 6, vv. 570-820).

phaeacian ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to the Phaeacians, a fabulous seafaring people fond of the feast, the lyre, and the dance, mentioned by Homer.

poem ::: n. --> A metrical composition; a composition in verse written in certain measures, whether in blank verse or in rhyme, and characterized by imagination and poetic diction; -- contradistinguished from prose; as, the poems of Homer or of Milton.
A composition, not in verse, of which the language is highly imaginative or impassioned; as, a prose poem; the poems of Ossian.

Priapus (Greek) A Greek god of fertility, worshiped as a protector of flocks, of the vine, and of other produce. His cult appeared on the coasts of Asia Minor, especially at Lampsacus, and he was undoubtedly well known and accepted as a member of the mythological hierarchy from a date long antedating both Homer and Hesiod. He is variously made the son of Dionysos and Aphrodite, of Adonis and Aphrodite, and of Hermes and Chione. The word also signified the phallus or phallic.

Proteus (Greek) The prophetic old man of the sea, a subject or son of Poseidon. Homer places him in the island of Pharos, one day’s journey from the Nile, while Vergil makes him an inhabitant of the Carpathian Sea between Crete and Rhodes. According to legend, he rose from the sea at midday and slept in the shade of the rocks, with sea monsters round him; anyone wishing to consult him must try to seize him at that time. To avoid prophesying, he assumed all sorts of dreadful shapes; if however he saw that his efforts were unavailing, he resumed his usual shape and gave his response. Here is an emblem of the astral light, so deceptive to the unwary and timorous, yet yielding its secrets to him who knows how to control it.

quote ::: v. t. --> To cite, as a passage from some author; to name, repeat, or adduce, as a passage from an author or speaker, by way of authority or illustration; as, to quote a passage from Homer.
To cite a passage from; to name as the authority for a statement or an opinion; as, to quote Shakespeare.
To name the current price of.
To notice; to observe; to examine.
To set down, as in writing.

Rabbi Chomer in Levi’s book of magic cites the 2

Rabbi Chomer, quoted by Levi, Transcendental

Rabbi Chomer that Gaffarel (17th-century man

Ragon, in his defense of the antiquity of Masonry, recalls the statements of classical writers that Neptune and Apollo offered themselves to Laomedon as masons “to build the city” of Troy, a well-known expression symbolically interpreted as meaning to establish a religious cult or Mystery school. Troy lay in a strategic position in regard to the trade routes of the ancient world and relics from distant lands prove that it was an active center of traffic. Even the first city, built in what archaeologists call the Neolithic period, was a strong and dominant center. Excavations at the lowest level revealed a great fortified wall with two towers and a stone carving of a human face, antedating by some 18 centuries the Troy of which Homer sang and which was the seventh city of the nine, counting upwards, that successively occupied the same site.

Rhea (Greek) Daughter of Ouranos and Gaia, sister and consort of Kronos, mother of Zeus and others of the principal divinities. Identified by the Homeric Greeks with Cybele, the Asiatic Magna Mater; also, as the mother of Zeus, with Demeter. An Orphic fragment reads: “When she bore Zeus she became Demeter.” The six sons and daughters — Vesta, Demeter, Hera, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades — are symbols of the powers and elements of invisible, and the divisions of visible, nature. Rhea in one aspect is also Isis — nature, divine and human, bearing to Kronos (time) the elements and powers that in both invisible and visible form constitute nature, only to see them swallowed by Kronos in the end, drawn back into the inner worlds in due course by all-ingulfing time. See also ORPHISM

Sargent Shriver, Jr., Isaac Bashevis Singer, Chard Powers Smith, the late Prof. Homer W. Smith,

Seratiel, according to Rabbi Chomer, the Hebrew

Shohet ::: A ritual slaughterer. ::: Shomer ::: (pl. shomrim). Watchman, guardian.

Shomerim ::: (Lit. guards, keepers) People who sit with a body between the time of death and burial.

Shomer Mitzvot ::: One who observes the commandments.

Shomer Shabbat ::: Observant of the laws of Shabbat.

Sibylline Books: These were allegedly ancient, mythical and inspired utterances of prophecy consulted in times of calamity. Their destruction led to composite and forged versions. The so-called Sibylline Oracles were a group of Jewish and Christian writings dating from the 2nd century B.C. to the 3rd century A.D , written in Homeric style, and in imitation of the lost Sibylline Books. They included prophecies of future events, of the fate of eminent persons, of cities and kingdoms. -- V.F.

Sibylline Oracles: A group of Jewish and Christian writings dating from the second century B.C. to the third century A.D., written in Homeric style, and in imitation of the lost Sibylline Books. They included prophecies of future events, of the fate of eminent persons, of cities and kingdoms.

Smith, Homer W. Man and His Gods. Boston: Little,

The exoteric literature of Orphism is scanty, while the esoteric teachings were never committed to writing. Outside of the Orphic Tablets and Orphic Hymns, no original material has been discovered to date. Scholars judging from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, have held that the Eleusinian Mystery-drama was based solely on the story of Persephone; but later researches indicate that, under the influence of Epimenides and Onomakritos, both deep students of Orphism, the Orphic Mystery tale of Zagreus-Dionysos was incorporated in the Eleusian ritual, the divine son Iacchos becoming thus identified with the Orphic god-man, Zagreus-Dionysos.

The mystical drink has been known in all ages and among all peoples. The ancient Teutonic tribes, whether of the Germanic or Anglo-Saxons, spoke of their divine mead, the drink of the gods. The Hindus spoke of Soma, the direct distillation from the moon and from the overseeing and guiding eye of the sun; the Greeks of the Homeric age spoke of ambrosia or nectar, a drink of the gods which renewed their understanding and gave them inspiration as well. Another branch of the Greeks belonging to the Dionysian and Orphic branches of mystical thought, spoke equally mystically of the mystic wine, and also of the mystic cereal, partaken of during the Mysteries, and it is from this last that the mystical wine and cereal or bread of the Christians was taken over almost completely from the Dionysian Eucharist, only among Christians even from quite early times it became degraded into actual blood and flesh of Jesus.

Theomachy [from Greek theomachia] Fighting against the gods, as the titans did; or a battle among the gods, as occurs in Homer.

Troy, Trojans Since Schliemann rediscovered at Hissarlik the several superincumbent sites of ancient Troy, there has been increasing reason for placing confidence in the historicity of what have been regarded as fables. The Trojan War, for instance, is now known to be a historical fact, although according to The Secret Doctrine it should be dated much earlier than the 1200 BC or so at present allowed by archaeology. In Isis Unveiled the Homeric account of this war is described as a Greek counterpart of the Ramayana. Allegory and fact are curiously mixed in such narrations, but it is well known that mythoi were originally and intentionally built on a basis of former factual occurrences.

Ulysses (Latin) Odysseus (Greek) Homeric hero who, because of his shrewdness and canny actions, has become a stock literary figure typifying cunning. His ten-year journey home from the Trojan War to Ithaca is told in the Odyssey. The story of his putting out the eye of the Cyclops is an esoteric allegory of the triumph of the oncoming fourth root-race, whose greater brain-mind cunning caused the atrophy of the third eye of the third root-race as typified by Polyphemus.

Zagreus, Zagreus-Dionysos (Greek) Dionysos was an earlier name for Bacchus. The mythos concerning Zagreus belongs to the cycle of teachings of the Orphic Mysteries rather than to mythology, so no references occur in the writings for the people, such as Homer and Hesiod. The references that have come down to our day occur principally in the manuscripts of the ancient Greek dramatists, poets, and in other ancient fragments.

Zeus, in the conception of the ancient Greek philosophers who nearly all were initiate-thinkers, was not the highest god. It was because all public mention of the cosmic hierarch was forbidden that Homer omitted to mention this first principle, and even the secondary, the Chaos and Aether of Orpheus and Hesiod, commencing his cosmogony with Night, which Zeus reverences — Night here being equivalent to the Hindu pradhana-prakriti.

Zuriel. According to Rabbi Chomer the 2

QUOTES [15 / 15 - 1500 / 1567]

KEYS (10k)

   11 Homer
   1 Mortimer J Adler
   1 The Mother
   1 Sri Aurobindo
   1 Homer Simpson


  890 Homer
   30 Homer Hickam
   29 John Irving
   24 Matt Groening
   21 Winslow Homer
   17 Henry David Thoreau
   15 Adam Nicolson
   10 Plato
   8 Aristotle
   8 Anonymous
   7 Gwen Cooper
   7 Cassandra Clare
   5 Victor Hugo
   5 Thomas Homer Dixon
   5 Ralph Waldo Emerson
   5 Jorge Luis Borges
   5 Horace
   5 Erich Auerbach
   5 Babe Ruth
   4 William Butler Yeats

1:And empty words are evil. ~ Homer,
2:Too many kings can ruin an army ~ Homer,
3:What we give to the poor, we lend to God. ~ Homer,
4:And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.
   ~ Homer,
5:Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this.
   ~ Homer,
6:The fates have given mankind a patient soul. ~ Homer, The Iliad,
7:A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.
   ~ Homer,
8:I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me Superman.
   ~ Homer Simpson,
9:Hateful to me as are the gates of hell Is he who hiding one thing in his heart Utters another. ~ Homer,
10:To have a great man for an intimate friend seems pleasant to those who have never tried it; those who have, fear it.
   ~ Homer,
11:Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
   ~ Homer, The Illiad,
12:Question me now about all other matters, but do not ask who I am, for fear you may increase in my heart it's burden of sorrow as I think back; I am very full of grief, and I should not sit in the house of somebody else with my lamentation and wailing. It is not good to go on mourning forever. ~ Homer,
13:1st row Homer, Shakespeare, Valmiki
2nd row Dante, Kalidasa, Aeschylus, Virgil, Milton
3rd row Goethe
I am not prepared to classify all the poets in the universe - it was the front bench or benches you asked for. By others I meant poets like Lucretius, Euripides, Calderon, Corneille, Hugo. Euripides (Medea, Bacchae and other plays) is a greater poet than Racine whom you want to put in the first ranks. If you want only the very greatest, none of these can enter - only Vyasa and Sophocles. Vyasa could very well claim a place beside Valmiki, Sophocles beside Aeschylus. The rest, if you like, you can send into the third row with Goethe, but it is something of a promotion about which one can feel some qualms. Spenser too, if you like; it is difficult to draw a line.

Shelley, Keats and Wordsworth have not been brought into consideration although their best work is as fine poetry as any written, but they have written nothing on a larger scale which would place them among the greatest creators. If Keats had finished Hyperion (without spoiling it), if Shelley had lived, or if Wordsworth had not petered out like a motor car with insufficient petrol, it might be different, but we have to take things as they are. As it is, all began magnificently, but none of them finished, and what work they did, except a few lyrics, sonnets, short pieces and narratives, is often flawed and unequal. If they had to be admitted, what about at least fifty others in Europe and Asia? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Poetry And Art,
14:Reading list (1972 edition)[edit]
1. Homer - Iliad, Odyssey
2. The Old Testament
3. Aeschylus - Tragedies
4. Sophocles - Tragedies
5. Herodotus - Histories
6. Euripides - Tragedies
7. Thucydides - History of the Peloponnesian War
8. Hippocrates - Medical Writings
9. Aristophanes - Comedies
10. Plato - Dialogues
11. Aristotle - Works
12. Epicurus - Letter to Herodotus; Letter to Menoecus
13. Euclid - Elements
14.Archimedes - Works
15. Apollonius of Perga - Conic Sections
16. Cicero - Works
17. Lucretius - On the Nature of Things
18. Virgil - Works
19. Horace - Works
20. Livy - History of Rome
21. Ovid - Works
22. Plutarch - Parallel Lives; Moralia
23. Tacitus - Histories; Annals; Agricola Germania
24. Nicomachus of Gerasa - Introduction to Arithmetic
25. Epictetus - Discourses; Encheiridion
26. Ptolemy - Almagest
27. Lucian - Works
28. Marcus Aurelius - Meditations
29. Galen - On the Natural Faculties
30. The New Testament
31. Plotinus - The Enneads
32. St. Augustine - On the Teacher; Confessions; City of God; On Christian Doctrine
33. The Song of Roland
34. The Nibelungenlied
35. The Saga of Burnt Njal
36. St. Thomas Aquinas - Summa Theologica
37. Dante Alighieri - The Divine Comedy;The New Life; On Monarchy
38. Geoffrey Chaucer - Troilus and Criseyde; The Canterbury Tales
39. Leonardo da Vinci - Notebooks
40. Niccolò Machiavelli - The Prince; Discourses on the First Ten Books of Livy
41. Desiderius Erasmus - The Praise of Folly
42. Nicolaus Copernicus - On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres
43. Thomas More - Utopia
44. Martin Luther - Table Talk; Three Treatises
45. François Rabelais - Gargantua and Pantagruel
46. John Calvin - Institutes of the Christian Religion
47. Michel de Montaigne - Essays
48. William Gilbert - On the Loadstone and Magnetic Bodies
49. Miguel de Cervantes - Don Quixote
50. Edmund Spenser - Prothalamion; The Faerie Queene
51. Francis Bacon - Essays; Advancement of Learning; Novum Organum, New Atlantis
52. William Shakespeare - Poetry and Plays
53. Galileo Galilei - Starry Messenger; Dialogues Concerning Two New Sciences
54. Johannes Kepler - Epitome of Copernican Astronomy; Concerning the Harmonies of the World
55. William Harvey - On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals; On the Circulation of the Blood; On the Generation of Animals
56. Thomas Hobbes - Leviathan
57. René Descartes - Rules for the Direction of the Mind; Discourse on the Method; Geometry; Meditations on First Philosophy
58. John Milton - Works
59. Molière - Comedies
60. Blaise Pascal - The Provincial Letters; Pensees; Scientific Treatises
61. Christiaan Huygens - Treatise on Light
62. Benedict de Spinoza - Ethics
63. John Locke - Letter Concerning Toleration; Of Civil Government; Essay Concerning Human Understanding;Thoughts Concerning Education
64. Jean Baptiste Racine - Tragedies
65. Isaac Newton - Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy; Optics
66. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz - Discourse on Metaphysics; New Essays Concerning Human Understanding;Monadology
67.Daniel Defoe - Robinson Crusoe
68. Jonathan Swift - A Tale of a Tub; Journal to Stella; Gulliver's Travels; A Modest Proposal
69. William Congreve - The Way of the World
70. George Berkeley - Principles of Human Knowledge
71. Alexander Pope - Essay on Criticism; Rape of the Lock; Essay on Man
72. Charles de Secondat, baron de Montesquieu - Persian Letters; Spirit of Laws
73. Voltaire - Letters on the English; Candide; Philosophical Dictionary
74. Henry Fielding - Joseph Andrews; Tom Jones
75. Samuel Johnson - The Vanity of Human Wishes; Dictionary; Rasselas; The Lives of the Poets
   ~ Mortimer J Adler,
15:It does not matter if you do not understand it - Savitri, read it always. You will see that every time you read it, something new will be revealed to you. Each time you will get a new glimpse, each time a new experience; things which were not there, things you did not understand arise and suddenly become clear. Always an unexpected vision comes up through the words and lines. Every time you try to read and understand, you will see that something is added, something which was hidden behind is revealed clearly and vividly. I tell you the very verses you have read once before, will appear to you in a different light each time you re-read them. This is what happens invariably. Always your experience is enriched, it is a revelation at each step.

But you must not read it as you read other books or newspapers. You must read with an empty head, a blank and vacant mind, without there being any other thought; you must concentrate much, remain empty, calm and open; then the words, rhythms, vibrations will penetrate directly to this white page, will put their stamp upon the brain, will explain themselves without your making any effort.

Savitri alone is sufficient to make you climb to the highest peaks. If truly one knows how to meditate on Savitri, one will receive all the help one needs. For him who wishes to follow this path, it is a concrete help as though the Lord himself were taking you by the hand and leading you to the destined goal. And then, every question, however personal it may be, has its answer here, every difficulty finds its solution herein; indeed there is everything that is necessary for doing the Yoga.

*He has crammed the whole universe in a single book.* It is a marvellous work, magnificent and of an incomparable perfection.

You know, before writing Savitri Sri Aurobindo said to me, *I am impelled to launch on a new adventure; I was hesitant in the beginning, but now I am decided. Still, I do not know how far I shall succeed. I pray for help.* And you know what it was? It was - before beginning, I warn you in advance - it was His way of speaking, so full of divine humility and modesty. He never... *asserted Himself*. And the day He actually began it, He told me: *I have launched myself in a rudderless boat upon the vastness of the Infinite.* And once having started, He wrote page after page without intermission, as though it were a thing already complete up there and He had only to transcribe it in ink down here on these pages.

In truth, the entire form of Savitri has descended "en masse" from the highest region and Sri Aurobindo with His genius only arranged the lines - in a superb and magnificent style. Sometimes entire lines were revealed and He has left them intact; He worked hard, untiringly, so that the inspiration could come from the highest possible summit. And what a work He has created! Yes, it is a true creation in itself. It is an unequalled work. Everything is there, and it is put in such a simple, such a clear form; verses perfectly harmonious, limpid and eternally true. My child, I have read so many things, but I have never come across anything which could be compared with Savitri. I have studied the best works in Greek, Latin, English and of course French literature, also in German and all the great creations of the West and the East, including the great epics; but I repeat it, I have not found anywhere anything comparable with Savitri. All these literary works seems to me empty, flat, hollow, without any deep reality - apart from a few rare exceptions, and these too represent only a small fraction of what Savitri is. What grandeur, what amplitude, what reality: it is something immortal and eternal He has created. I tell you once again there is nothing like in it the whole world. Even if one puts aside the vision of the reality, that is, the essential substance which is the heart of the inspiration, and considers only the lines in themselves, one will find them unique, of the highest classical kind. What He has created is something man cannot imagine. For, everything is there, everything.

It may then be said that Savitri is a revelation, it is a meditation, it is a quest of the Infinite, the Eternal. If it is read with this aspiration for Immortality, the reading itself will serve as a guide to Immortality. To read Savitri is indeed to practice Yoga, spiritual concentration; one can find there all that is needed to realise the Divine. Each step of Yoga is noted here, including the secret of all other Yogas. Surely, if one sincerely follows what is revealed here in each line one will reach finally the transformation of the Supramental Yoga. It is truly the infallible guide who never abandons you; its support is always there for him who wants to follow the path. Each verse of Savitri is like a revealed Mantra which surpasses all that man possessed by way of knowledge, and I repeat this, the words are expressed and arranged in such a way that the sonority of the rhythm leads you to the origin of sound, which is OM.

My child, yes, everything is there: mysticism, occultism, philosophy, the history of evolution, the history of man, of the gods, of creation, of Nature. How the universe was created, why, for what purpose, what destiny - all is there. You can find all the answers to all your questions there. Everything is explained, even the future of man and of the evolution, all that nobody yet knows. He has described it all in beautiful and clear words so that spiritual adventurers who wish to solve the mysteries of the world may understand it more easily. But this mystery is well hidden behind the words and lines and one must rise to the required level of true consciousness to discover it. All prophesies, all that is going to come is presented with the precise and wonderful clarity. Sri Aurobindo gives you here the key to find the Truth, to discover the Consciousness, to solve the problem of what the universe is. He has also indicated how to open the door of the Inconscience so that the light may penetrate there and transform it. He has shown the path, the way to liberate oneself from the ignorance and climb up to the superconscience; each stage, each plane of consciousness, how they can be scaled, how one can cross even the barrier of death and attain immortality. You will find the whole journey in detail, and as you go forward you can discover things altogether unknown to man. That is Savitri and much more yet. It is a real experience - reading Savitri. All the secrets that man possessed, He has revealed, - as well as all that awaits him in the future; all this is found in the depth of Savitri. But one must have the knowledge to discover it all, the experience of the planes of consciousness, the experience of the Supermind, even the experience of the conquest of Death. He has noted all the stages, marked each step in order to advance integrally in the integral Yoga.

All this is His own experience, and what is most surprising is that it is my own experience also. It is my sadhana which He has worked out. Each object, each event, each realisation, all the descriptions, even the colours are exactly what I saw and the words, phrases are also exactly what I heard. And all this before having read the book. I read Savitri many times afterwards, but earlier, when He was writing He used to read it to me. Every morning I used to hear Him read Savitri. During the night He would write and in the morning read it to me. And I observed something curious, that day after day the experiences He read out to me in the morning were those I had had the previous night, word by word. Yes, all the descriptions, the colours, the pictures I had seen, the words I had heard, all, all, I heard it all, put by Him into poetry, into miraculous poetry. Yes, they were exactly my experiences of the previous night which He read out to me the following morning. And it was not just one day by chance, but for days and days together. And every time I used to compare what He said with my previous experiences and they were always the same. I repeat, it was not that I had told Him my experiences and that He had noted them down afterwards, no, He knew already what I had seen. It is my experiences He has presented at length and they were His experiences also. It is, moreover, the picture of Our joint adventure into the unknown or rather into the Supermind.

These are experiences lived by Him, realities, supracosmic truths. He experienced all these as one experiences joy or sorrow, physically. He walked in the darkness of inconscience, even in the neighborhood of death, endured the sufferings of perdition, and emerged from the mud, the world-misery to breathe the sovereign plenitude and enter the supreme Ananda. He crossed all these realms, went through the consequences, suffered and endured physically what one cannot imagine. Nobody till today has suffered like Him. He accepted suffering to transform suffering into the joy of union with the Supreme. It is something unique and incomparable in the history of the world. It is something that has never happened before, He is the first to have traced the path in the Unknown, so that we may be able to walk with certitude towards the Supermind. He has made the work easy for us. Savitri is His whole Yoga of transformation, and this Yoga appears now for the first time in the earth-consciousness.

And I think that man is not yet ready to receive it. It is too high and too vast for him. He cannot understand it, grasp it, for it is not by the mind that one can understand Savitri. One needs spiritual experiences in order to understand and assimilate it. The farther one advances on the path of Yoga, the more does one assimilate and the better. No, it is something which will be appreciated only in the future, it is the poetry of tomorrow of which He has spoken in The Future Poetry. It is too subtle, too refined, - it is not in the mind or through the mind, it is in meditation that Savitri is revealed.

And men have the audacity to compare it with the work of Virgil or Homer and to find it inferior. They do not understand, they cannot understand. What do they know? Nothing at all. And it is useless to try to make them understand. Men will know what it is, but in a distant future. It is only the new race with a new consciousness which will be able to understand. I assure you there is nothing under the blue sky to compare with Savitri. It is the mystery of mysteries. It is a *super-epic,* it is super-literature, super-poetry, super-vision, it is a super-work even if one considers the number of lines He has written. No, these human words are not adequate to describe Savitri. Yes, one needs superlatives, hyperboles to describe it. It is a hyper-epic. No, words express nothing of what Savitri is, at least I do not find them. It is of immense value - spiritual value and all other values; it is eternal in its subject, and infinite in its appeal, miraculous in its mode and power of execution; it is a unique thing, the more you come into contact with it, the higher will you be uplifted. Ah, truly it is something! It is the most beautiful thing He has left for man, the highest possible. What is it? When will man know it? When is he going to lead a life of truth? When is he going to accept this in his life? This yet remains to be seen.

My child, every day you are going to read Savitri; read properly, with the right attitude, concentrating a little before opening the pages and trying to keep the mind as empty as possible, absolutely without a thought. The direct road is through the heart. I tell you, if you try to really concentrate with this aspiration you can light the flame, the psychic flame, the flame of purification in a very short time, perhaps in a few days. What you cannot do normally, you can do with the help of Savitri. Try and you will see how very different it is, how new, if you read with this attitude, with this something at the back of your consciousness; as though it were an offering to Sri Aurobindo. You know it is charged, fully charged with consciousness; as if Savitri were a being, a real guide. I tell you, whoever, wanting to practice Yoga, tries sincerely and feels the necessity for it, will be able to climb with the help of Savitri to the highest rung of the ladder of Yoga, will be able to find the secret that Savitri represents. And this without the help of a Guru. And he will be able to practice it anywhere. For him Savitri alone will be the guide, for all that he needs he will find Savitri. If he remains very quiet when before a difficulty, or when he does not know where to turn to go forward and how to overcome obstacles, for all these hesitations and incertitudes which overwhelm us at every moment, he will have the necessary indications, and the necessary concrete help. If he remains very calm, open, if he aspires sincerely, always he will be as if lead by the hand. If he has faith, the will to give himself and essential sincerity he will reach the final goal.

Indeed, Savitri is something concrete, living, it is all replete, packed with consciousness, it is the supreme knowledge above all human philosophies and religions. It is the spiritual path, it is Yoga, Tapasya, Sadhana, in its single body. Savitri has an extraordinary power, it gives out vibrations for him who can receive them, the true vibrations of each stage of consciousness. It is incomparable, it is truth in its plenitude, the Truth Sri Aurobindo brought down on the earth. My child, one must try to find the secret that Savitri represents, the prophetic message Sri Aurobindo reveals there for us. This is the work before you, it is hard but it is worth the trouble. - 5 November 1967

~ The Mother, Sweet Mother, The Mother to Mona Sarkar, [T0],


1:Sometimes even excellent Homer nods. ~ horace, @wisdomtrove
2:Even the worthy Homer sometimes nods. ~ horace, @wisdomtrove
3:Envy depreciates the genius of the great Homer. ~ ovid, @wisdomtrove
4:Even the good Homer is sometimes caught napping. ~ horace, @wisdomtrove
5:At Achilles tomb, O fortunate youth, to have found Homer as the herald of your glory! ~ alexander-the-great, @wisdomtrove
6:Every day that we fail to live out the maximum of our potentialities we kill the Shakespeare, Dante, Homer, Christ which is in us. ~ henry-miller, @wisdomtrove
7:Shakespeare was the Homer, or father of our dramatic poets;Jonson was theVirgil, the pattern of elaborate writing; I admire him, but I love Shakespeare. ~ john-dryden, @wisdomtrove
8:Lastly, this threefold poetry flows from three great sources - The Bible, Homer, Shakespeare... . The Bible before the Iliad, the Iliad before Shakespeare. ~ victor-hugo, @wisdomtrove
9:Homer was wrong in saying, "Would that strife might pass away from among gods and men!" He did not see that he was praying for the destruction of the universe. ~ d-h-lawrence, @wisdomtrove
10:The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid, of Plato & Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
11:Themistocles being asked whether he would rather be Achilles or Homer, said, "Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors? ~ plutarch, @wisdomtrove
12:Homer is one of the men of genius who solve that fine problem of art - the finest of all, perhaps - truly to depict humanity by the enlargement of man: that is, to generate the real in the ideal. ~ victor-hugo, @wisdomtrove
13:There are no moral or intellectual merits. Homer composed the Odyssey; if we postulate an infinite period of time, with infinite circumstances and changes, the impossible thing is not to compose the Odyssey, at least once. ~ jorge-luis-borges, @wisdomtrove
14:No one has written the way Isaiah does. The royal style, the majesty of the language. He is called the prince of the prophets. No one has written like that. I've studied ancient literature, Homer, for example, but it's not the same thing. ~ elie-wiesel, @wisdomtrove
15:The historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of literature from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order. ~ t-s-eliot, @wisdomtrove
16:The artist is of no importance. Only what he creates is important, since there is nothing new to be said. Shakespeare, Balzac, Homer have all written about the same things, and if they had lived one thousand or two thousand years longer, the publishers wouldn't have needed anyone since. ~ william-faulkner, @wisdomtrove
17:Across the gulf of centuries, the blind smile of Homer is turned upon our age. Along the echoing corridors of time, the roar of the rockets merges now with the creak of the wind-taut rigging. For somewhere in the world today, still unconscious of his destiny, walks the boy who will be the first Odysseus of the Age of Space. ~ arthur-c-carke, @wisdomtrove
18:Antagoras the poet was boiling a conger, and Antigonus, coming behind him as he was stirring his skillet, said, "Do you think, Antagoras, that Homer boiled congers when he wrote the deeds of Agamemnon?" Antagoras replied, "Do you think, O king, that Agamemnon, when he did such exploits, was a peeping in his army to see who boiled congers? ~ plutarch, @wisdomtrove
19:To me this world is all one continued vision of fancy or imagination, and I feel flattered when I am told so. What is it sets Homer, Virgil and Milton in so high a rank of art? Why is the Bible more entertaining and instructive than any other book? Is it not because they are addressed to the imagination, which is spiritual sensation, and but immediately to the understanding or reason? ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
20:All the critics who could not make their reputations by discovering you are hoping to make them by predicting hopefully your approaching impotence, failure and general drying up of natural juices. Not a one will wish you luck or hope that you will keep on writing unless you have political affiliations in which case these will rally around and speak of you and Homer, Balzac, Zola and Link Steffens. ~ ernest-hemingway, @wisdomtrove

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:And empty words are evil. ~ Homer,
2:lebron is above everybody ~ Homer,
3:lebron is better than you ~ Homer,
4:My hour at last has come; ~ Homer,
5:The journey is the thing. ~ Homer,
6:Your arrows for my tears. ~ Homer,
7:And empty words are evil. ~ Homer,
8:We men are wretched things ~ Homer,
9:Lunar Geology Rocks. ~ Homer Hickam,
10:We men are wretched things. ~ Homer,
11:Afrodita, amante de la risa, ~ Homer,
12:A sound mind in a manly body. ~ Homer,
13:Ajax the great Himself a host. ~ Homer,
14:A little child born yesterday ~ Homer,
15:All men have need of the gods. ~ Homer,
16:The journey is its own reward. ~ Homer,
17:heights th' immortal Gods, Jove ~ Homer,
18:His descent was like nightfall. ~ Homer,
19:Noblest minds are easiest bent. ~ Homer,
20:Too many kings can ruin an army ~ Homer,
21:Do I know what rhetorical means? ~ Homer,
22:The force of union conquers all. ~ Homer,
23:Too many kings can ruin an army ~ Homer,
24:By turns the nine delight to sing ~ Homer,
25:For too much rest becomes a pain. ~ Homer,
26:I'm a people person...who drinks. ~ Homer,
27:I say no wealth is worth my life. ~ Homer,
28:Modesty is of no use to a beggar. ~ Homer,
29:The lot of man-to suffer and die. ~ Homer,
30:Wine gives strength to weary men. ~ Homer,
31:You stupid food!" -Athene to Ares ~ Homer,
32:~ Bart King(8(l) Homer Simpson ~ Bart King,
33:Boy, everyone is stupid except me. ~ Homer,
34:No trust is to be placed in women. ~ Homer,
35:O great shamelessness, we followed ~ Homer,
36:The sex is ever to a soldier kind. ~ Homer,
37:The strong must protect the sweet. ~ Homer,
38:Achilles absent was Achilles still! ~ Homer,
39:Everything flows and nothing stays. ~ Homer,
40:I want to be alone with my thought. ~ Homer,
41:Look at me! I'm a puffy pink cloud! ~ Homer,
42:The Simpsons are going to Delaware! ~ Homer,
43:what’s out of sight, is out of mind ~ Homer,
44:A shamefaced man makes a bad beggar. ~ Homer,
45:Hunger is insolent, and will be fed. ~ Homer,
46:I live an idle burden to the ground. ~ Homer,
47:I'm Homer, the blind brother. ~ E L Doctorow,
48:Take thou thy arms and come with me, ~ Homer,
49:The tongue of man is a twisty thing. ~ Homer,
50:Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow ~ Homer,
51:Wine give strenght to weary men. and ~ Homer,
52:After the event, even a fool is wise. ~ Homer,
53:A hunter of shadows, himself a shade. ~ Homer,
54:A small rock holds back a great wave. ~ Homer,
55:Do not mourn the dead with the belly. ~ Homer,
56:Iron has powers to draw a man to ruin ~ Homer,
57:It is not right to glory in the slain ~ Homer,
58:Sometimes even excellent Homer nods. ~ Horace,
59:The windy satisfaction of the tongue. ~ Homer,
60:What so tedious as a twice-told tale? ~ Homer,
61:Even the worthy Homer sometimes nods. ~ Horace,
62:Forget the brother and resume the man. ~ Homer,
63:For never, never, wicked man was wise. ~ Homer,
64:God help me, I'm just not that bright. ~ Homer,
65:It is not good to have a rule of many. ~ Homer,
66:It is wrong to sorrow without ceasing. ~ Homer,
67:No season now for calm, familiar talk. ~ Homer,
68:Steel itself oft lures a man to fight. ~ Homer,
69:Toil is the lot of all, and bitter woe ~ Homer,
70:Blame the guy who doesn't speak Engish. ~ Homer,
71:Content to follow when we lead the way. ~ Homer,
72:Go on with a spirit that fears nothing. ~ Homer,
73:My every impulse bends to what is right ~ Homer,
74:Reproach is infinite, and knows no end. ~ Homer,
75:Sleep and Death, who are twin brothers. ~ Homer,
76:The hearts of great men can be changed. ~ Homer,
77:The hearts of the great can be changed. ~ Homer,
78:The whims of youth break all the rules. ~ Homer,
79:Young people are thoughtless as a rule. ~ Homer,
80:Even a fool may be wise after the event. ~ Homer,
81:His native home deep imag'd in his soul. ~ Homer,
82:In saffron-colored mantle from the tides ~ Homer,
83:In youth and beauty, wisdom is but rare! ~ Homer,
84:It is not right to exult over slain men. ~ Homer,
85:It is wrong to be sorry without ceasing. ~ Homer,
86:I will paint for money any time. ~ Winslow Homer,
87:Jove lifts the golden balances that show ~ Homer,
88:Life is largely a matter of expectation. ~ Homer,
89:The long historian of my country's woes. ~ Homer,
90:Trying is the first step toward failure. ~ Homer,
91:Wise to resolve, and patient to perform. ~ Homer,
92:And not a man appears to tell their fate. ~ Homer,
93:Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. ~ Homer,
94:Beauty- it was a glorious gift of nature. ~ Homer,
95:But sure the eye of time beholds no name, ~ Homer,
96:For love deceives the best of woman kind. ~ Homer,
97:How vain, without the merit, is the name. ~ Homer,
98:I'm a Spalding Gray in a Rick Dees world. ~ Homer,
99:Immortals are never alien to one another. ~ Homer,
100:Shame is no comrade for the poor, I weet. ~ Homer,
101:Um médico, só por si, vale alguns homens. ~ Homer,
102:Unextinguished laughter shakes the skies. ~ Homer,
103:What we give to the poor, we lend to God. ~ Homer,
104:A decent boldness ever meets with friends. ~ Homer,
105:And would'st thou evil for his good repay? ~ Homer,
106:Aries in his many fits knows no favorites. ~ Homer,
107:around the country, fill your belly well — ~ Homer,
108:Her heart raced with joy to sleep with War ~ Homer,
109:If not yet lost to all the sense of shame. ~ Homer,
110:One omen is best; Defending the fatherland ~ Homer,
111:Short is my date, but deathless my renown. ~ Homer,
112:The best things beyond their measure cloy. ~ Homer,
113:The life, which others pay, let us bestow, ~ Homer,
114:Thou shalt not take moochers into thy hut? ~ Homer,
115:Victory passes back and forth between men. ~ Homer,
116:What we give to the poor, we lend to God. ~ Homer,
117:You must endure and not be broken-hearted. ~ Homer,
118:A generous friendship no cold medium knows, ~ Homer,
119:Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind. ~ Homer,
120:Not vain the weakest, if their force unite. ~ Homer,
121:Pray, for all men need the aid of the gods. ~ Homer,
122:Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave. ~ Homer,
123:Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many devices ~ Homer,
124:Tell me, O muse, of travellers far and wide ~ Homer,
125:The bitter dregs of Fortune's cup to drain. ~ Homer,
126:To-morrow we embark upon the boundless sea. ~ Homer,
127:...y, avanzando, era como una noche sombría ~ Homer,
128:A man's life breath cannot come back again-- ~ Homer,
129:And bear unmov'd the wrongs of base mankind, ~ Homer,
130:And endless are the modes of speech, and far ~ Homer,
131:And rest at last where souls unbodied dwell, ~ Homer,
132:And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared. ~ Homer,
133:Homer no function beer well without. ~ Matt Groening,
134:I don't know how much longer I can complain. ~ Homer,
135:I hate To tell again a tale once fully told. ~ Homer,
136:I long for home, long for the sight of home. ~ Homer,
137:Let’s go home,’ Homer said, ‘to Hell. ~ John Marsden,
138:Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold; ~ Homer,
139:Light is the task where many share the toil. ~ Homer,
140:Mistress; please: are you divine, or mortal? ~ Homer,
141:Nobody gets into heaven without a glowstick. ~ Homer,
142:Nor can one word be chang'd but for a worse. ~ Homer,
143:Oh, everything looks bad if you remember it. ~ Homer,
144:Singing is the lowest form of communication. ~ Homer,
145:The evil plan is most harmful to the planner ~ Homer,
146:The fates have given mankind a patient soul. ~ Homer,
147:The rest were vulgar deaths unknown to fame. ~ Homer,
148:There was a world ... or was it all a dream? ~ Homer,
149:Weapons themselves can tempt a man to fight. ~ Homer,
150:Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear. ~ Homer,
151:Who love too much, hate in the like extreme. ~ Homer,
152:A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue. ~ Homer,
153:All men begin their learning with Homer. ~ Xenophanes,
154:Better to flee from death than feel its grip. ~ Homer,
155:...for iron of itself draws a man
thereto. ~ Homer,
156:...he'll never lie - the man is far too wise. ~ Homer,
157:I'm in a place where I don't know where I am! ~ Homer,
158:It is a wise child that knows his own father. ~ Homer,
159:I want answers now or I want them eventually! ~ Homer,
160:Now from the smooth deep ocean-stream the sun ~ Homer,
161:Once you go Vatican, you never go back again. ~ Homer,
162:Porkchops and bacon, my two favorite animals. ~ Homer,
163:Shame greatly hurts or greatly helps mankind. ~ Homer,
164:The persuasion of a friend is a strong thing. ~ Homer,
165:There will be killing till the score is paid. ~ Homer,
166:Thou shalt not horn in on thy husbands racket ~ Homer,
167:Words empty as the wind are best left unsaid. ~ Homer,
168:Boy, those Germans have a word for everything! ~ Homer,
169:By their own follies they perished, the fools. ~ Homer,
170:Envy depreciates the genius of the great Homer. ~ Ovid,
171:Even a fool learns something once it hits him. ~ Homer,
172:Even the bravest cannot fight beyond his power ~ Homer,
173:Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero. ~ Homer,
174:How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise! ~ Homer,
175:Money can be exchanged for goods and services! ~ Homer,
176:Rock stars, is there anything they don't know? ~ Homer,
177:The blade itself incites to deeds of violence. ~ Homer,
178:The man who acts the least, upbraids the most. ~ Homer,
179:There were poets before Homer. ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero,
180:And here I am using my own lungs like a sucker. ~ Homer,
181:And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.
   ~ Homer,
182:Be both a speaker of words and a doer of deeds. ~ Homer,
183:Better to be the poor servant of a poor master. ~ Homer,
184:Every novel is a debtor to Homer. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
185:For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain, ~ Homer,
186:It [revenge] is sweeter far than flowing honey. ~ Homer,
187:Know from the bounteous heaven all riches flow. ~ Homer,
188:Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired. ~ Homer,
189:Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar. ~ Homer,
190:Will cast the spear and leave the rest to Jove. ~ Homer,
191:Words as empty as the wind are best left unsaid ~ Homer,
192:A companion's words of persuasion are effective. ~ Homer,
193:As leaves on the trees, such is the life of man. ~ Homer,
194:Earth sounds my wisdom, and high heaven my fame. ~ Homer,
195:Just are the ways of heaven; from Heaven proceed ~ Homer,
196:The heart in his rugged chest was pounding, torn ~ Homer,
197:they arise from over-saturation with the "Iliad. ~ Homer,
198:True friends appear less moved than counterfeit. ~ Homer,
199:youth is quick in feeling but weak in judgement. ~ Homer,
200:Even the good Homer is sometimes caught napping. ~ Horace,
201:From his tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey. ~ Homer,
202:Goddess of song, teach me the story
of a hero. ~ Homer,
203:I discovered a meal between breakfast and brunch. ~ Homer,
204:I'm not a bath man myself. More of a cologne man. ~ Homer,
205:I sound like Homer. I mean Winslow Homer. ~ Charles Olson,
206:The natural thing, my lord, men and women joined. ~ Homer,
207:There is a strength in the even of very sorry men ~ Homer,
208:Each man delights in the work that suits him best. ~ Homer,
209:El vino aumenta mucho el vigor del hombre fatigado ~ Homer,
210:If you serve too many masters, you'll soon suffer. ~ Homer,
211:I'll teach you to laugh at something that's funny! ~ Homer,
212:It's man's to fight, but heaven's to give success. ~ Homer,
213:Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair. ~ Homer,
214:My life is more to me than all the wealth of Ilius ~ Homer,
215:No TV and no beer makes Homer something something. ~ Homer,
216:A glorious death is his, who for his country falls. ~ Homer,
217:Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this. ~ Homer,
218:I didn't lie! I just created fiction with my mouth! ~ Homer,
219:If any man obeys the gods, they listen to him also. ~ Homer,
220:Most grievous of all deaths it is to die of hunger. ~ Homer,
221:Nothing shall I, while sane, compare with a friend. ~ Homer,
222:The wordy tale, once told, were hard to tell again. ~ Homer,
223:Zeus does not bring all men's plans to fulfillment. ~ Homer,
224:Always to be best, and distinguished above the rest. ~ Homer,
225:A young man is embarrassed to question an older one. ~ Homer,
226:Once harm has been done, even a fool understands it. ~ Homer,
227:Rage--Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles ~ Homer,
228:reading of birds could not keep off dark destruction ~ Homer,
229:I'll get out of this city alive, even if it kills me! ~ Homer,
230:I'm a rageaholic. I just can't live without rageahol. ~ Homer,
231:Oh, my tattered rags are caught on your coffee table. ~ Homer,
232:The single best augury is to fight for one's country. ~ Homer,
233:Uncontrollable laughter arose among the blessed gods. ~ Homer,
234:Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this.
   ~ Homer,
235:Don't mess with the dead, boy, they have eerie powers. ~ Homer,
236:Even were sleep is concerned, too much is a bad thing. ~ Homer,
237:A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother. ~ Homer,
238:Being popular is the most important thing in the world! ~ Homer,
239:It is better to watch people do stuff than to do stuff. ~ Homer,
240:It is tedious to tell again tales already plainly told. ~ Homer,
241:One omen is best, to fight in defense of one's country. ~ Homer,
242:Only think of my being alive with a reputation! ~ Winslow Homer,
243:ours are the only farmers who can read Homer ~ Thomas Jefferson,
244:We are quick to flare up, we races of men on the earth. ~ Homer,
245:We mortals hear only the news, and know nothing at all. ~ Homer,
246:When are people going to learn? Democracy doesn't work. ~ Homer,
247:One who contends with immortals lives a very short life. ~ Homer,
248:Sleep is sweet, whomever it seizes, though he has cares. ~ Homer,
249:The chance of war Is equal, and the slayer oft is slain. ~ Homer,
250:The glorious gifts of the gods are not to be cast aside. ~ Homer,
251:this alien earth I stride will hold me down at last. But ~ Homer,
252:Whoever obeys the gods, to him they particularly listen. ~ Homer,
253:But you can't stop at one, you wanna drink another woman! ~ Homer,
254:Endure, my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear ~ Homer,
255:King who feed on your people, since you rule nonentities; ~ Homer,
256:Oh what a friend chance can be — when it chooses. ~ Winslow Homer,
257:Quando surgiu a que cedo desponta, Aurora de róseos dedos ~ Homer,
258:The gods give to mortals not everything at the same time. ~ Homer,
259:There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life. ~ Homer,
260:A guest never forgets the host who has treated him kindly. ~ Homer,
261:Ah, beer, my one weakness. My Achille's heel, if you will. ~ Homer,
262:A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.
   ~ Homer,
263:Bad herdsmen waste the flocks which thou hast left behind. ~ Homer,
264:but sing no more this bitter tale that wears my heart away ~ Homer,
265:By the golden chain Homer meant nothing else than the sun. ~ Plato,
266:I won't lie to you, fatherhood isn't easy like motherhood. ~ Homer,
267:There is a fullness of all things, even of sleep and love. ~ Homer,
268:Whatever day Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away. ~ Homer,
269:be always best in battle and pre-eminent beyond all others, ~ Homer,
270:Beyond his strength no man can fight, although he be eager. ~ Homer,
271:Pffft, English. Who needs that? I'm never going to England. ~ Homer,
272:The minds of the everlasting gods are not changed suddenly. ~ Homer,
273:There is not any advantage to be won from grim lamentation. ~ Homer,
274:Better to live or die, once and for all, than die by inches. ~ Homer,
275:Few sons are like their fathers--most are worse, few better. ~ Homer,
276:Good things don't end in -eum; they end in -mania or -teria. ~ Homer,
277:If it doesn't have siamese twins in a jar, it is not a fair. ~ Homer,
278:No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny. ~ Homer,
279:Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death ~ Homer,
280:The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return. ~ Homer,
281:Accept these grateful tears...For thee they flow, for thee... ~ Homer,
282:Few sons are like their fathers - many are worse, few better. ~ Homer,
283:For I have seen the cities of men; and learned their manners. ~ Homer,
284:Goddamn Homer and his idiotic story of the Sirens’ song. ~ S J Harper,
285:Intet kan knekke en mann som havet, om han er aldri så sprek. ~ Homer,
286:Life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a razor ~ Homer,
287:Rasa malu tidak disarankan (tidak baik) bagi orang yang butuh ~ Homer,
288:The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others. ~ Homer,
289:The stars never lie, but the astrologers lie about the stars. ~ Homer,
290:They did not know her-gods are hard for mortals to recognize. ~ Homer,
291:to avoid death he shrank into the host of his own companions. ~ Homer,
292:We're goin bowling. If we don't come back, avenge our deaths. ~ Homer,
293:Ah, good ol’ trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die. ~ Homer,
294:Death can find nothing to expose in him that is not beautiful. ~ Homer,
295:Everything since Homer has improved, except poetry. ~ Giacomo Leopardi,
296:Homer is my example and his unchristened heart. ~ William Butler Yeats,
297:If something rude of any kind was said, let the winds take it. ~ Homer,
298:The blade itself incites to deeds of violence’ Homer ~ Joe Abercrombie,
299:The business of wretches is wretched even in guarantee giving. ~ Homer,
300:Whenever a man is tired, wine is a great restorer of strength. ~ Homer,
301:Bear patiently, my heart, for you have suffered heavier things. ~ Homer,
302:From now on walking is my beer and feeling good is my hangover. ~ Homer,
303:It is the bold man who every time does best, at home or abroad. ~ Homer,
304:My brain is sending poison to my heart," he told Homer... ~ John Irving,
305:Never put more than two waves in a picture; it's fussy. ~ Winslow Homer,
306:NEWSFLASH Lisa, Bart is not a horse!"
Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
307:A gillie, by golly! But it’s illegal!” “It knows,” Crater ~ Homer Hickam,
308:Heaven has appointed us dwellers on earth a time for all things. ~ Homer,
309:It is always the latest song that an audience applauds the most. ~ Homer,
310:So he spoke and strode on, a god, through the mortals’ struggle. ~ Homer,
311:He knew how to say many false things that were like true sayings. ~ Homer,
312:Our fruitless labours mourn, And only rich in barren fame return. ~ Homer,
313:Stop thinking about fun and have it”

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
314:A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who has done much. ~ Homer,
315:Evil deeds do not prosper; the slow man catches up with the swift. ~ Homer,
316:I know not what the future holds, but I know who holds the future. ~ Homer,
317:soon as rosy-fingered morning came forth from the first grey dawn, ~ Homer,
318:The Sun will not rise or set without my notice and thanks. ~ Winslow Homer,
319:You will see, in the future I will live by my watercolors. ~ Winslow Homer,
320:[885]   “Brag while you can, Hector. Zeus and Apollo Have given you ~ Homer,
321:All my life I've been an obese man trapped inside a fat man's body. ~ Homer,
322:As the wind scatters leaves upon the earth, such is the race of men ~ Homer,
323:Behold, on wrong Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong. ~ Homer,
324:It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be. ~ Homer,
325:It never was our guise to slight the poor, or aught humane despise. ~ Homer,
326:There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep. ~ Homer,
327:The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us. ~ Homer,
328:Without TV, it's hard to know when one day ends and another begins. ~ Homer,
329:And they die an equal death — the idler and the man of mighty deeds. ~ Homer,
330:If they think I'm going to stop at that stop sign, they're mistaken! ~ Homer,
331:In love, a verse of Mimnermus has more power than one of Homer. ~ Propertius,
332:Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. ~ Homer,
333:Nothing in the world is so incontinent as a man's accursed appetite. ~ Homer,
334:There is no fouler fiend than a woman when her mind is bent to evil. ~ Homer,
335:Canada? Why would I want to leave America just to visit America, Jr.? ~ Homer,
336:It is not possible to fight beyond your strength, even if you strive. ~ Homer,
337:A boy without mischief is like a bowling ball without a liquid center. ~ Homer,
338:All is lovely outside my house and inside my house and myself. ~ Winslow Homer,
339:Antilochus! You're the most appalling driver in the world! Go to hell! ~ Homer,
340:By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember ~ Homer,
341:«Combatieron con roedor encono, y se separaron unidos por la amistad.» ~ Homer,
342:If you are very valiant, it is a god, I think, who gave you this gift. ~ Homer,
343:Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing sooner than of war. ~ Homer,
344:Tell me, Muse, of the man of many ways,
who was driven far journeys ~ Homer,
345:The God of War will see fair play-he's often slain that wants to slay! ~ Homer,
346:This is the way I've always thought it should be. We've always blamed ~ Homer,
347:What is proper to hear, no one, human or divine, will hear before you. ~ Homer,
348:As learnèd commentators view
In Homer more than Homer knew. ~ Jonathan Swift,
349:Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes! ~ Homer,
350:Bird life aplenty is found in the sunny air, not all of it significant. ~ Homer,
351:It is not unseemly for a man to die fighting in defense of his country. ~ Homer,
352:I've gone back in time to when dinosaurs weren't just confined to zoos. ~ Homer,
353:The man does better who runs from disaster than he who is caught by it. ~ Homer,
354:What is this word that broke through the fence of your teeth, Atreides? ~ Homer,
355:For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother ~ Homer,
356:I can't even say the word 'titmouse' without giggling like a schoolgirl. ~ Homer,
357:It's ironic how I drop some 'DOUGH' (Doh) when I got them Homer Simpsons. ~ Wale,
358:Look at nature, work independently, and solve your own problems. ~ Winslow Homer,
359:Look, I'm not asking you to like me, I'm not asking you to put yourself ~ Homer,
360:Patroclus equal of Ares came out; and that was the beginning of his end. ~ Homer,
361:The life that I have chosen gives me my full hours of enjoyment. ~ Winslow Homer,
362:'T is fortune gives us birth, But Jove alone endues the soul with worth. ~ Homer,
363:When will people learn? Democracy doesn't work!" (Homer Simpson) ~ Matt Groening,
364:Because they're stupid, that's why. That's why everybody does everything. ~ Homer,
365:Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
366:If a man wants to be an artist, he should never look at pictures. ~ Winslow Homer,
367:I only hope those rumors I hear about what goes on in prison are greatly ~ Homer,
368:I believe children are the future...which is why they must be stopped now! ~ Homer,
369:The Grecian ladies counted their age from their marriage, not their birth. ~ Homer,
370:What's the use? The people are too stupid. They do not understand. ~ Winslow Homer,
371:You ought not to practice childish ways, since you are no longer that age. ~ Homer,
372:and many of them too, enough to kill a man." ~ Homer, the Iliad (cap 6 trad Fagles),
373:Äneias, geehrt wie ein gott im volke der Troer (Ilias; Elfter Gesang V. 58) ~ Homer,
374:Beauty! Terrible Beauty!
A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes! ~ Homer,
375:Here, therefore, huge and mighty warrior though you be, here shall you die. ~ Homer,
376:I, for one, know of no sweeter sight for a man's eyes than his own country. ~ Homer,
377:It is hateful to me to tell a story over again, when it has been well told. ~ Homer,
378:What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind's breath? ~ Homer,
379:A multitude of rulers is not a good thing. Let there be one ruler, one king. ~ Homer,
380:Being eaten by a crocodile is just like going to a giant blender. ~ Homer,
381:I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown. ~ Homer,
382:The most interesting part of my life is of no concern to the public. ~ Winslow Homer,
383:Im Frieden begraben die Söhne ihre Väter, im Krieg begraben Väter ihre Söhne. ~ Homer,
384:Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness? ~ Homer,
385:Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of scepticism. ~ Homer,
386:A man who has suffered much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows. ~ Homer,
387:Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this. ~ Homer,
388:Few sons attain the praise Of their great sires and most their sires disgrace. ~ Homer,
389:...for when the gods have made up their minds they do not change them lightly. ~ Homer,
390:I am so smart. I am so smart. I am so smart. S-M-R-T ... Uh, I mean S-M-A-R-T. ~ Homer,
391:I was working on a flat tax proposal and accidentally proved there was no God. ~ Homer,
392:To labour is the lot of man below; And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe. ~ Homer,
393:All strangers and beggars are from Zeus, and a gift, though small, is precious. ~ Homer,
394:A woman is a lot like a refrigerator. Six feet tall, 300 makes ice. ~ Homer,
395:Beware the toils of war ... the mesh of the huge dragnet sweeping up the world. ~ Homer,
396:Few sons are equal to their fathers; most fall short, all too few surpass them. ~ Homer,
397:Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me, For sacred ev'n to gods is misery. ~ Homer,
398:Ill fares the State where many masters rule; let one be lord, one king supreme. ~ Homer,
399:Mr. Gladstone read Homer for fun, which I thought served him right. ~ Winston Churchill,
400:the goddess Calypso, who had got him into a large cave and wanted to marry him. ~ Homer,
401:The god of war is impartial: he hands out death to the man who hands out death. ~ Homer,
402:The gods are hard to handle — when they come blazing forth in their true power. ~ Homer,
403:The outcome of the war is in our hands; the outcome of words is in the council. ~ Homer,
404:Ah, wretched man! unmindful of thy end! A moment's glory; and what fates attend! ~ Homer,
405:Did fate, or we, when great Atrides died, Urge the bold traitor to the regicide? ~ Homer,
406:down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms ~ Homer,
407:Everyone knows rock n' roll attained perfection in 1974. It's a scientific fact. ~ Homer,
408:I didn't lie, I was writing fiction with my mouth."

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
409:In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, And poverty stood smiling in my sight. ~ Homer,
410:I've always wondered if there was a God. And now I know there is -- and it's me. ~ Homer,
411:Marge, when I join an underground cult I expect a little support from my family. ~ Homer,
412:Never have you patience frankly to speak forth to me the thing that you purpose. ~ Homer,
413:Nothing feebler does earth nurture than man, Of all things breathing and moving. ~ Homer,
414:Oh, Homer! You don't have to play dumb anymore! You're not at school now. ~ John Marsden,
415:The leader, mingling with the vulgar host, Is in the common mass of matter lost. ~ Homer,
416:Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face: beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace. ~ Homer,
417:When will people learn? Democracy doesn't work!"

(Homer Simpson) ~ Matt Groening,
418:Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;
I have seen worse sights than this. ~ Homer,
419:I promise I'll do anything for you, especialy if it's easy. Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
420:some things you will think of yourself,...some things God will put into your mind ~ Homer,
421:The Trojan War without Homer was nothing more than a battle over trade routes. ~ B W Powe,
422:Aphrodite forever stands by her man and drives the spirits of death away from him. ~ Homer,
423:Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;
I have seen worse sights than this. ~ Homer,
424:Heroes, be men; be what you were before; Or weigh the great occasion, and be more. ~ Homer,
425:How delicate her feet who shuns the ground, Stepping a-tiptoe on the heads of men. ~ Homer,
426:If I were actually Homer Simpson, I'd be getting scripts out the wazoo. ~ Dan Castellaneta,
427:I'm satisfied. It's straight,...but it's just so hot, and I'm just so fraustrated. ~ Homer,
428:Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs. ~ Homer,
429:The melancholy joys of evils pass'd, For he who much has suffer'd, much will know. ~ Homer,
430:To my sick little pal. I will try to knock you another homer, maybe two today. ~ Babe Ruth,
431:And Heaven, that every virtue bears in mind, E'en to the ashes of the just is kind. ~ Homer,
432:But he whose inborn worth his acts commend, Of gentle soul, to human race a friend. ~ Homer,
433:Just once I'd like someone to call me 'Sir' without adding 'You're making a scene.' ~ Homer,
434:Nothing is more miserable than man, Of all upon the earth that breathes and creeps. ~ Homer,
435:Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, And drew behind the cloudy vale of night. ~ Homer,
436:The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind. ~ Homer,
437:Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all in thee. ~ Homer,
438:Always be suspicious of easy work," Dr. Wilbur Larch once said to Homer Wells. ~ John Irving,
439:For lo? my words no fancied woes relate; I speak from science and the voice of fate. ~ Homer,
440:It was built against the will of the immortal gods, and so it did not last for long. ~ Homer,
441:Sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, unwakeful, most pleasant, the nearest like death. ~ Homer,
442:The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things. ~ Homer,
443:The thirst for vengeance was the beautiful nature which Homer imitated ~ Johann Georg Hamann,
444:The ugliest man was he who came to Troy; with squinting eyes and one distorted foot. ~ Homer,
445:Wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile ~ Homer,
446:Anybody who doesn't think I want the Lakers to win is a fool. But I'm no homer. ~ Chick Hearn,
447:but these lay dead on the ground, far dearer now to the vultures than to their wives. ~ Homer,
448:Do thou restrain the haughty spirit in thy breast, for better far is gentle courtesy. ~ Homer,
449:He came after Homer and before Gertrude Stein, a difficult interval for a poet. ~ Anne Carson,
450:He too,I think,should pray to the deathless ones himself.
All men need the gods... ~ Homer,
451:let not forgetfulness take you, after you are released from the kindly sweet slumber. ~ Homer,
452:Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies And sure he will for Wisdom never lies. ~ Homer,
453:By mutual confidence and mutual aid - great deeds are done, and great discoveries made ~ Homer,
454:Homer is new this morning, and perhaps nothing is as old as today's newspaper. ~ Charles Peguy,
455:It is Homer who has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skillfully. ~ Aristotle,
456:This doesn't happen in America! Maybe Ohio, but not in America!" Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
457:Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies; And sure he will; for wisdom never lies ~ Homer,
458:By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent. ~ Homer,
459:I regret very much that I have painted a picture that requires any description. ~ Winslow Homer,
460:Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, Silence that spoke and eloquence of eyes. ~ Homer,
461:preliterate authors, such as Homer, who cannot be grammatically constrained, ~ Giacomo Leopardi,
462:The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend as to find a friend worth dying for. ~ Homer,
463:I detest the man who hides on thing in the depths of his heart and speaks forth another. ~ Homer,
464:Indignor quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus, often translated as “Even Homer nods. ~ Ben Macintyre,
465:I promise I'll do anything for you, especialy if it's easy.

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
466:It is not strength, but art, obtains the prize, And to be swift is less than to be wise. ~ Homer,
467:The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for. ~ Homer,
468:Then the guests620 entered the palace, bringing lamb and wine that gives one confidence. ~ Homer,
469:Thou knowst the oer-eager vehemence of youth,How quick in temper, and in judgement weak. ~ Homer,
470:Wide-sounding Zeus takes away half a man's worth on the day when slavery comes upon him. ~ Homer,
471:down from his brow
she ran his curls
like thick hyacinth clusters
full of blooms ~ Homer,
472:I detest that man who hides one thing in the depths of his heart, and speaks for another. ~ Homer,
473:I guess some people never change... Or, they quickly change and then quickly change back. ~ Homer,
474:It is no bad thing to be a king-to see one's house enriched and one's authority enhanced. ~ Homer,
475:It's about time trees were good for something, instead of just standing there like jerks! ~ Homer,
476:Many are the birds who under the sun's rays wander the sky; not all of them mean anything ~ Homer,
477:Oall the creatures that creep and breathe on earth, there is none more wretched than man. ~ Homer,
478:Servants, when their lords no longer sway, Their minds no more to righteous courses bend. ~ Homer,
479:So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days, And steal thyself from life by slow decays. ~ Homer,
480:The race of men is like the race of leaves. As one generation flourishes, another decays. ~ Homer,
481:To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd, In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd. ~ Homer,
482:Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause. ~ Homer,
483:A gun is not a weapon! It's a tool, like a butcher's knife, or a harpoon, or an alligator. ~ Homer,
484:Getting out of jury duty is easy. The trick is to say you're prejudiced against all races. ~ Homer,
485:It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know least, and talk most. ~ Homer,
486:I've never heard a crowd boo a homer, but I've heard plenty of boos after a strikeout. ~ Babe Ruth,
487:I was as good as resisting Griff Shipley as Homer Simpson was at resisting a donut. ~ Sarina Bowen,
488:See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing but their own folly. ~ Homer,
489:The best thing in the world [is] a strong house held in serenity where man and wife agree. ~ Homer,
490:The proud heart feels not terror nor turns to run and it is his own courage that kills him ~ Homer,
491:To see the smoke from his loved palace rise, While the dear isle in distant prospect lies, ~ Homer,
492:To speak his thoughts is every freeman's right, in peace and war, in council and in fight. ~ Homer,
493:We battle on in words, as always, mere words, and what's the cure? We cannot find a thing. ~ Homer,
494:We cannot all hope to combine the pleasing qualities of good looks, brains, and eloquence. ~ Homer,
495:We got a little rule back home: If it's brown, drink it down. If it's black, send it back. ~ Homer,
496:Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured. ~ Homer,
497:I detest that man, who hides one thing in the depths of his heart, and speaks forth another ~ Homer,
498:I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me Superman.
   ~ Homer Simpson,
499:I've had my share of pain the waves and wars.
Add this to the total. Bring the trial on. ~ Homer,
500:...of all creatures that breathe and move on earth
none is more to be pitied than a man. ~ Homer,
501:See how God ever like with like doth pair, And still the worthless doth the worthless lead! ~ Homer,
502:Talking to Yogi Berra about baseball is like talking to Homer about the Gods. ~ A Bartlett Giamatti,
503:The struggle itself [...] is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. ~ Homer,
504:Who is more real? Homer or Ulysses? Shakespeare or Hamlet? Burroughs or Tarzan? ~ Robert A Heinlein,
505:Great Homer's birthplace seven rival cities claim, Too mighty such monopoly of Fame. ~ Thomas Seward,
506:It was in looking at sea gulls that it first occurred to Homer Wells that he was free. ~ John Irving,
507:Last night's homer was Stargell's 399th career home run, leaving him one shy of 500. ~ Jerry Coleman,
508:the Invocation of the Muse from Homer’s Odyssey, the T. E. Lawrence translation. ~ Steven Pressfield,
509:Those oft are stratagems which errors seem Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream. ~ Alexander Pope,
510:Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers. ~ Homer,
511:Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow for other's good, and melt at other's woe. ~ Homer,
512:All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve. ~ Homer,
513:Artists should never look at pictures, but should stutter in a language of their own. ~ Winslow Homer,
514:Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing. ~ Homer,
515:First you don't want me to get the pony, then you want me to take it back. Make up your mind! ~ Homer,
516:I would rather be a serf in a poor man's house and be above ground than reign among the dead. ~ Homer,
517:I would rather be tied to the soil as a serf... than be king of all these dead and destroyed. ~ Homer,
518:men, we know least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps, contributed ~ Homer,
519:Sensitive love letters are my specialty. 'Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you.' ~ Homer,
520:The information superhighway showed the average person what some nerd thinks about Star Trek. ~ Homer,
521:This doesn't happen in America! Maybe Ohio, but not in America!"

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
522:And now I'm using sarcasm, to confess the whole thing so later I could say I already told you. ~ Homer,
523:…but there they lay, sprawled across the field, craved far more by the vultures than by wives. ~ Homer,
524:contemplating the incidents in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down to us, ~ Homer,
525:Few sons, indeed, are like their fathers. Generally they are worse; but just a few are better. ~ Homer,
526:He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before. ~ Homer,
527:I'm a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are. ~ Homer,
528:You can't keep blaming yourself. Just blame yourself once, and move on." Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
529:You tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is 'never try.' Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
530:You, you insolent brazen bitch—you really dare to shake that monstrous spear in Father’s face? ~ Homer,
531:For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest. ~ Alexander Pope,
532:Hateful to me as are the gates of hell Is he who hiding one thing in his heart Utters another. ~ Homer,
533:Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,- Such men as live in these degenerate days. ~ Homer,
534:Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man. ~ Homer,
535:There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth. ~ Homer,
536:What greater glory attends a man than what he wins with his racing feet and his striving hands? ~ Homer,
537:Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in the bosom of a man like smoke. ~ Homer,
538:As I lay dying, the woman with the dog's eyes would not close my eyes as I descended into Hades. ~ Homer,
539:Como os portões do Hades me é odioso aquele homem que esconde uma coisa na mente, mas diz outra. ~ Homer,
540:Far from me be the gift of Bacchus--pernicious, inflaming wine, that weakens both body and mind. ~ Homer,
541:Not at all similar are the race of the immortal gods and the race of men who walk upon the earth ~ Homer,
542:Both were gods of the same line, a single father, but Zeus was the elder-born and Zeus knew more. ~ Homer,
543:Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another. ~ Homer,
544:Lay ye down the golden chain From Heaven, and pull at its inferior links Both Goddesses and Gods. ~ Homer,
545:Not at all similar are the race of the immortal gods and the race of men who walk upon the earth. ~ Homer,
546:scattering medicines that still pain, healed him, since he was not made to be one of the mortals. ~ Homer,
547:The author of the Iliad is either Homer or, if not Homer, somebody else of the same name. ~ Aldous Huxley,
548:To those who ask if I have read their book, I reply: I have not yet read Homer. ~ Natalie Clifford Barney,
549:For of all creatures that breathe and creep about on the earth, there is none so miserable as man. ~ Homer,
550:I've finally tapped into that spirit of self-destruction that makes rock-n-roll the king of music! ~ Homer,
551:I would tell people some years later that I was raised an only child and so was my brother. ~ Homer Hickam,
552:To be loved, you have to be nice to people, everyday. But to be hated, you don't have to do squat! ~ Homer,
553:Trojans and Achaians, who like wolves sprang upon one another, with man against man in the onfall. ~ Homer,
554:All right, let's not panic. I'll make the money by selling one of my livers. I can get by with one. ~ Homer,
555:At Achilles tomb, O fortunate youth, to have found Homer as the herald of your glory! ~ Alexander the Great,
556:Ojalá os volvierais agua y tierra ahí mismo donde estáis sentados, hombres sin corazón y sin honor. ~ Homer,
557:Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead, Through which the living Homer begged his bread ~ Thomas Seward,
558:The eastern half of the empire spoke Greek and boasted a culture that went back to Homer. ~ Anthony Everitt,
559:You've injured me, Farshooter, most deadly of the gods;
And I'd punish you, if I had the power. ~ Homer,
560:Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another. ~ Homer,
561:Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. ~ Homer,
562:Tell me, too, about all these things, oh daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them. ~ Homer,
563:The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother, and I call him Gamblor! ~ Homer,
564:The proof of battle is action, proof of words, debate. No time for speeches now, it's time to fight. ~ Homer,
565:When you're in my house you shall do as I do and believe who I believe in. So Bart butter your bacon. ~ Homer,
566:You can't keep blaming yourself. Just blame yourself once, and move on."

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
567:You know, the one with all the well meaning rules that don't work out in real life, uh, Christianity. ~ Homer,
568:You tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is 'never try.'

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
569:For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers. ~ Homer,
570:Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name, But England's Milton equals both in fame. ~ William Cowper,
571:Homer's work hits again and again on the topos of the inexpressible. People will always do that. ~ Umberto Eco,
572:It was the gray sea that bore you and the towering rocks, so sheer the heart in you is turned from us. ~ Homer,
573:I want to be a homer. I'm getting paid for something that I love to do. I would do it for nothing. ~ Ron Santo,
574:My wife's not some doobie to be passed around! I took a vow on our wedding day to bogart her for life. ~ Homer,
575:A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time ~ Homer,
576:Dimmi, Homer, possiamo davvero dirci liberi, se lo siamo solo quando ce lo permettono? (pag. 98) ~ E L Doctorow,
577:I had some friends here from North Carolina who'd never seen a homer, so I gave them a couple. ~ Catfish Hunter,
578:I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me, Superman. Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
579:Many shining actions owe their success to chance, though the general or statesman receive the applause. ~ Homer,
580:There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands. ~ Homer,
581:We had to start somewhere, either succeed or fail, and then build what we knew as we went along. ~ Homer Hickam,
582:He shook them
and called out to the best men of the Argives
to meet him in the mêlée face to face. ~ Homer,
583:How odd it would be to call Homer’s Iliad or Rumi’s Masnavi “the Great Eastern Mediterranean Poem. ~ Mohsin Hamid,
584:Of the many things hidden from the knowledge of man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human heart. ~ Homer,
585:Ama kaçış yok ecelden, zamanı geldiğinde her insan,
en sevgili kullar bile göçüp giderler bu dünyadan. ~ Homer,
586:It is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave. ~ Homer,
587:Nothing on this planet could slink like a fox, Mom said, except maybe a politician in a beer joint. ~ Homer Hickam,
588:some day let them say of him: ‘He is better by far than his father,’ 480  as he comes in from the fighting ~ Homer,
589:All I’ve done is give you a book,” she said. “You have to have the courage to learn what’s inside it. ~ Homer Hickam,
590:An alluring woman
need not bat an eyelash
to hit a homer
and steal a man's heart. ~ Khang Kijarro Nguyen,
591:An ancient writer says of Homer that he touched nothing without somehow honoring and glorifying it. ~ Edith Hamilton,
592:For I am yearning to visit the limits of the all-nurturing Earth, and Oceans, from whom the gods are sprung. ~ Homer,
593:Glory to that Homer of painting, to that father of warmth and enthusiasm... he really paints men. ~ Eugene Delacroix,
594:Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors? ~ Homer,
595:All the survivors of the war had reached their homes and so put the perils of battle and the sea behind them. ~ Homer,
596:But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, for gentle ways are best, and keep aloof from sharp contentions. ~ Homer,
597:I'm like that guy who single-handedly built the rocket and flew to the moon. What was his name? Apollo Creed? ~ Homer,
598:say, ‘There never was such a person as Homer,’” the English essayist Thomas De Quincey joked in 1841. ~ Adam Nicolson,
599:The narrator commands the Muse, “Tell me”: enn-epe. An epic poem is, at its root, simply a tale that is told. ~ Homer,
600:Bunny put away his copy of The Bride of Fu Manchu and started carrying around a volume of Homer instead. ~ Donna Tartt,
601:Death ain’t nothin’,” the tied-up man retorted. “It’s how you die. Watch me, boys, and learn somethin’! ~ Homer Hickam,
602:I am like the people in the Winslow Homer paintings, sharing the same room with them but not really there. ~ Anonymous,
603:I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me, Superman.

Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
604:So it is that the gods do not give all men gifts of grace - neither good looks nor intelligence nor eloquence. ~ Homer,
605:The average person in William Shakespeare's time lived no better than his counterpart in Homer's time. ~ William Rosen,
606:Troy is based on the epic poem The Iliad by Homer , according to the credits. Homer's estate should sue. ~ Roger Ebert,
607:Why cover the same ground again? ... It goes against my grain to repeat a tale told once, and told so clearly. ~ Homer,
608:Yo momma so stupid I told her I was reading a book by Homer and she asked if I had anything written by Bart. ~ Various,
609:But Homer's words are as costly and admirable to Homer, as Agamemnon's victories are to Agamemnon ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
610:For them, and for Homer, impermanence is life's central sorrow and the source of its most lasting pain. ~ Adam Nicolson,
611:Homer, maybe you can tell me why I am fatally attracted to women who are no more than mirrors of myself. ~ E L Doctorow,
612:I prefer every time a picture composed and painted outdoors. The thing is done without your knowing it. ~ Winslow Homer,
613:Proud is the spirit of Zeus-fostered kings - their honor comes from Zeus, and Zeus, god of council, loves them. ~ Homer,
614:Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. ~ Homer,
615:There is satiety in all things, in sleep, and love-making, in the loveliness of singing and the innocent dance. ~ Homer,
616:But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me. ~ Homer,
617:We don't know enough, we'll never know.
Oh happy Homer, taking the stars and the Gods for granted. ~ Robinson Jeffers,
618:What of his beard? Are you not of Homer's opinion, who says Youth is most charming when the beard first appears? ~ Plato,
619:As a bull roars when feeding in the field, so roared the goodly door touched by the key and open flew before her. ~ Homer,
620:El pueblo me silba, pero yo me aplaudo en mi casa mientras contemplo cariñosamente las monedas en mi caja fuerte. ~ Homer,
621:Unfortunately, most of us end up with somebody who’s somewhere between Jed Clampett and Homer Simpson. ~ Mary Kay Andrews,
622:agitators were dispatched to Coalwood in droves and, very soon, wildcat strikes were hitting the mine every ~ Homer Hickam,
623:Grief wrapped around her, eating at her heart. The house was full of chairs but she could not bear to sit upright. ~ Homer,
624:I walk out into a nature such as the old prophets and poets, Menu, Moses, Homer, Chaucer, walked in. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
625:My standard comment is, If you don't want your kids to be like Bart Simpson, don't act like Homer Simpson. ~ Matt Groening,
626:Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade. ~ Homer,
627:The Bible had at best become like the work of Ovid or Homer: containing great truth, but not itself true. ~ Douglas Murray,
628:...there is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife... ~ Homer,
629:I have no interest at all in food and drink, but only in slaughter and blood and the agonized groans of mangled men ~ Homer,
630:No ha criado la tierra animal más endeble que el hombre entre cuantos respiran y en la tierra se mueven.
Ulises ~ Homer,
631:These are sad days in literature. Homer is dead. Shakespeare is dead. And I myself am not feeling at all well. ~ Mark Twain,
632:Think not to match yourself against the gods, for men that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals. ~ Homer,
633:When you paint, try to put down exactly what you see. Whatever else you have to offer will come out anyway. ~ Winslow Homer,
634:Homer say, Pretty gal go a river and see herself in water. Pretty gal drown when she go down to kiss herself. ~ Marlon James,
635:I have an immature, Homer Simpson-like tendency to giggle when I say the words 'seminal fluids' in public. ~ Stephenie Meyer,
636:To have a great man for an intimate friend seems pleasant to those who have never tried it; those who have, fear it. ~ Homer,
637:Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable ~ Homer,
638:Scientific man is already on the moon, and yet we are still living with the moral concepts of Homer. ~ Michelangelo Antonioni,
639:The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers. ~ Homer,
640:this is no horrible war of Achaians and Trojans, 380  but the Danaäns are beginning to fight even with the immortals. ~ Homer,
641:Well, back in Troy, Odysseus and I always agreed in councils, with one mind. We gave the Argives all the best advice. ~ Homer,
642:I have been Homer; shortly, I shall be No One, like Ulysses; shortly, I shall be all men; I shall be dead. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance. ~ Homer,
644:Nace una fuerza de la unión de los hombres, aunque sean débiles; y nosotros somos capaces de luchar con los valientes. ~ Homer,
645:Never once have you taken courage in your heart to arm with your people for battle, or go into ambuscade with the best ~ Homer,
646:Noble and manly music invigorates the spirit, strengthens the wavering man, and incites him to great and worthy deeds. ~ Homer,
647:this was all evidence of the tradition at work, of Homer being more interested in epic music than its meaning. ~ Adam Nicolson,
648:When one starts writing a book, especially a novel, even the humblest person in the world hopes to become Homer. ~ Umberto Eco,
649:Young men's minds are always changeable, but when an old man is concerned in a matter, he looks both before and after. ~ Homer,
650:Her gray eyes clear, the goddess Athena answered, "Down from the skies I come to check your rage if only you will yield ~ Homer,
651:To have a great man for an intimate friend seems pleasant to those who have never tried it; those who have, fear it.
   ~ Homer,
652:We can make fun of hockey fans, but someone who enjoys Homer is indulging the same kind of vicarious bloodlust. ~ Steven Pinker, irresistible sleep fell deeply on his eyes, the sweetest, soundest oblivion, still as the sleep of death itself... ~ Homer,
654:he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; ~ Homer,
655:If you're gonna get mad at me every time I do something stupid, then I guess I'll just have to stop doing stupid things. ~ Homer,
656:I, too, am indignant when the worthy Homer nods; yet in a long work it is allowable for sleep to creep over the writer. ~ Horace,
657:Restrain yourself... and gloat in silence. I'll have no jubilation here. It is an impious thing to exult over the slain. ~ Homer,
658:For I say there is no other thing that is worse than the sea is for breaking a man, even though he may a very strong one. ~ Homer,
659:Homer was so used to being told off in his life that you might as well have told a rock off for being sedimentary, ~ John Marsden,
660:Lisa: 'Do we have any food that wasn't brutally slaughtered?' Homer: 'Well, I think the veal died of loneliness.' ~ Matt Groening,
661:Now what is a wedding? Well, Webster's dictionary describes a wedding as the process of removing weeds from one's garden. ~ Homer,
662:Strife, only a slight thing when she first rears her head but her head soon hits the sky as she strides across the earth. ~ Homer,
663:You know those balls that they put on car antennas so you can find them in the parking lot? Those should be on every car! ~ Homer,
664:More proof that trusting the Feds to protect our information is like hiring Homer Simpson to guard the donuts. ~ Robert X Cringely,
665:The first printed Greek Homer had appeared in 1488, in Florence, published by an Athenian, Demetrius Chalcondyles, ~ Adam Nicolson,
666:All men owe honor to the poets - honor and awe; for they are dearest to the Muse who puts upon their lips the ways of life. ~ Homer,
667:he was standing on the stern of his huge-hollowed vessel 600  looking out over the sheer war work and the sorrowful onrush. ~ Homer,
668:I had discovered that learning something, no matter how complex, wasn't hard when I had a reason to want to know it. ~ Homer Hickam,
669:Kids are great. You can teach them to hate what you hate and, with the Internet and all, they practically raise themselves. ~ Homer,
670:O Thestorides, of the many things hidden from the knowledge of man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human heart.” 8 ~ Homer,
671:That is the gods' work, spinning threads of death through the lives of mortal men, an all to make a song for those to come. ~ Homer,
672:The way I see it, if everybody ran from bad things instead of trying to stop them, bad things would be all there is. ~ Homer Hickam,
673:We who are gods forever have to endure the most horrible hurts, by each other’s hatred, as we try to give favor to mortals. ~ Homer,
674:Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again. ~ Homer,
675:Not much comes easy in this world, Sonny. If it does, it's best to be suspicious of it. It's probably not worth much. ~ Homer Hickam,
676:       But the Achaian men went silently, breathing valor,        stubbornly minded each in his heart to stand by the others. ~ Homer,
677:Homer excels all the inventors of other arts in this: that he has swallowed up the honor of those who succeeded him. ~ Alexander Pope,
678:If you don't like your job, you don't strike! You just go in every day, and do it really half assed. That's the American way. ~ Homer,
679:Wine lead to folly, making even the wise to laugh immoderately, to dance, and to utter what had better have been kept silent. ~ Homer,
680:No finer, greater gift in the world than that...when man and woman possess their home, two minds, two hearts that work as one. ~ Homer,
681:Suffering is but another name for the teaching of experience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmaster of life. ~ Homer,
682:That is the god's work, spinning threads of death through the lives of mortal men, and all to make a song for those to come... ~ Homer,
683:There is no greater glory that can befall a man that what he achieves with the speed of his feet or the strength of his hands. ~ Homer,
684:There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad. ~ Homer,
685:Do not beg me by knees or by parents you dog! I only wish I were savagely wrathful enough to hack up your corpse and eat it raw ~ Homer,
686:It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair. ~ Homer,
687:Suppose we've chosen the wrong god. Every time we go to church we're just making him madder and madder. -Homer Simpson ~ Guy P Harrison,
688:The internet wasn't created for mockery, it was supposed to help researchers at different universities share data sets. It was! ~ Homer,
689:…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad. ~ Homer,
690:You never know when an old calendar might come in handy! Sure, it's not 1985 right now, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? ~ Homer,
691:She threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug which takes away grief and passion and brings forgetfulness of all ills ~ Homer,
692:And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you— it’s born with us the day that we are born. ~ Homer,
693:...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep. ~ Homer,
694:he strode among the champions in fear for the shepherd of the people, lest he be hurt, and all their labor slip away into nothing. ~ Homer,
695:I will stay with it and endure through suffering hardship and once the heaving sea has shaken my raft to pieces, then I will swim. ~ Homer,
696:Suppose we've chosen the wrong god. Every time we go to church we're just making him madder and madder.
-Homer Simpson ~ Guy P Harrison,
697:The creation of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part, crated far out of the reach of observation. ~ Homer,
698:Union Rule 26: Every employee must win 'Worker of the Week' at least once, regardless of gross incompetence, obesity or rank odor. ~ Homer,
699:Upon the earth appear'd, weeping, they bore Brave Hector out; and on the fun'ral pile Laying the glorious dead, applied the torch. ~ Homer,
700:A councilor ought not to sleep the whole night through, a man to whom the populace is entrusted, and who has many responsibilities. ~ Homer,
701:Hyrtacides pummeled his thighs and groaned and bit his lip and said: "O Father Zeus, you, even you, turn out to be a liar." [bk.12] ~ Homer,
702:Miserable mortals who like leaves at one moment flame with life eating the produce of the land and at another moment weakly perish. ~ Homer,
703:Of men who have a sense of honor, more come through alive than are slain, but from those who flee comes neither glory nor any help. ~ Homer,
704:O thou, whose certain eye foresees  The fix'd event of fate's remote decrees. ~ Homer, The Odyssey, Book IV, line 627. Pope's translation,
705:Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above With ease can save each object of his love; Wide as his will extends his boundless grace. ~ Homer,
706:The creations of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part, created far out of the reach of observation. ~ Homer,
707:Fear not, but be bold:
A decent boldness ever meets with friends,
succeeds, and e’en a stranger recommends.
Odyssey vii. 50. ~ Homer,
708:Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter. ~ Homer,
709:O Friends, be men, and let your hearts be strong And let no warrior in the heat of fight, Do what may bring him shame in others' eyes ~ Homer,
710:Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics, While Homer and Whitman roared in the pines. ~ Edgar Lee Masters,
711:THINKING about Homer, and it occurred to me that his two books are the two basic fantasy stories: the War and the Journey. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
712:De los que sienten este temor, son más los que se salvan que los que mueren; los que huyen, ni alcanzan gloria, ni entre sí se ayudan. ~ Homer,
713:Homer invented these fictions and attributed human powers to the gods; I wish he had attributed divine powers to us ~ Saint Augustine of Hippo,
714:Homer would scuttle up the side of my denim-clad leg (to this day, there’s nothing he loves climbing so much as a pair of jeans) ~ Gwen Cooper,
715:Miserable mortals who, like leaves, at one moment flame with life, eating the produce of the land, and at another moment weakly perish ~ Homer,
716:...I give you real world-changers like Homer, Jack Kirby, and the aforementioned Shakespeare as the archangels of pure story. ~ Bill Willingham,
717:That was something else I’d learned from Homer—sometimes, to get the things that were good in life, you had to make a blind leap. ~ Gwen Cooper,
718:There can be no covenants between men and lions, wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other out and out an through. ~ Homer,
719:There is no such thing as talent. What they call talent is nothing but the capacity for doing continuous work in the right way. ~ Winslow Homer,
720:It is wonderful how much depends upon the relations of black and white A black and white, if properly balanced, suggests colour. ~ Winslow Homer,
721:There are 201 words in the Iliad and the Odyssey that occur only once in Homer and never again in the whole of Greek literature. ~ Adam Nicolson,
722:Tú pasa adentro y no te turbes en tu ánimo, pues un hombre con arrojo resulta ser el mejor en toda acción, aunque llegue de otra tierra. ~ Homer,
723:We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. 320  A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who has done much. ~ Homer,
724:Zeus it seems has given us from youth to old age a nice ball of wool to wind-nothing but wars upon wars until we shall perish every one. ~ Homer,
725:Among all men on the earth bards have a share of honor and reverence, because the muse has taught them songs and loves the race of bards. ~ Homer,
726:Every day that we fail to live out the maximum of our potentialities we kill the Shakespeare, Dante, Homer, Christ which is in us. ~ Henry Miller,
727:Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods, magnificent, which they give of their own will, no man could have them for wanting them. ~ Homer,
728:With Cosette’s garter, Homer would make the Iliad. He would put into his poem an old babbler like me, and he would call him Nestor. ~ Victor Hugo,
729:Guns aren't toys! They're for family protection, hunting dangerous or delicious animals, and keeping the King of England out of your face! ~ Homer,
730:If any man, so lost in his strength and prowess, pays you no respect —just pay him back . . . Do what you like. Whatever warms your heart. ~ Homer,
731:There is no thought of death in your mind now, and yet death stands close beside you as you put on the immortal armor of a surpassing man. ~ Homer,
732:All the other Greeks who had survived the brutal sack of Troy sailed safely home to their own wives—except this man alone. Calypso, a great ~ Homer,
733:Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
   ~ Homer, The Illiad,
734:I would disapprove of another hospitable man who was excessive in friendship, as of one excessive in hate. In all things balance is better. ~ Homer,
735:Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end ~ Homer,
736:the reader is hurried out of himself by the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a hearer, in another to a spectator. ~ Homer,
737:[But] age, the common enemy of mankind, has laid his hand upon you; would that it had fallen upon some other, and that you were still young. ~ Homer,
738:His tales took on the form of an epic poem, and I felt I was hearing some Canadian Homer reciting his Iliad of the High Arctic regions. ~ Jules Verne,
739:It were too much toil for me, as if I were a god, to tell all this, for all about the stone wall the inhuman strength of the fire was rising, ~ Homer,
740:Maybe that’s what life is,” Elsie said. “Mysteries atop mysteries. We think we know everything but we don’t know anything, not really. ~ Homer Hickam,
741:Take courage, my heart: you have been through worse than this. Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this. ~ Homer,
742:I am going to stand against him now, though his hands are like flame, though his hands are like flame, and his heart like the shining of iron. ~ Homer,
743:Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy. ~ Homer,
744:There are two things every woman really wants: one, she wants to know that a man really loves her, and two, that he isn't going to stop. ~ Homer Hickam,
745:Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” Homer’s VR came online, smiling. “I guess we got’em.” I snorted with relief. “And their little dog, too.” Homer ~ Dennis E Taylor,
746:For afterwards a man finds pleasure in his pains, when he has suffered long and wandered long. So I will tell you what you ask and seek to know. ~ Homer,
747:Better to be the hireling of a stranger, and serve a man of mean estate whose living is but small, than be the ruler over all these dead and gone. ~ Homer,
748:güneşin, yıldızlı göğün altında, yeryüzünde nice kentler var, bunlar içinde ben kutsal İlyon'u severim Priamos'u Priamos'un iyi kargı atan halkını ~ Homer,
749:Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
750:He lives not long who battles with the immortals, nor do his children prattle about his knees when he has come back from battle and the dread fray. ~ Homer,
751:Since the time of Homer every European, in what he could say about the Orient, was a racist, an imperialist, and almost totally ethnocentric. ~ Edward Said,
752:And what of failure?"
He shrugged."The consequence of not succeesing.Remember what Homer said.Circumstances rule men,not men circumstances. ~ Steve Berry,
753:I should rather labor as another's serf, in the home of a man without fortune, one whose livelihood was meager, than rule over all the departed dead. ~ Homer,
754:Pine needle sorbet? Pine needle sorbet?! My kids do NOT eat sorbet. They eat sherbet, and they pronounce it sherbert, and they wish it was ice cream! ~ Homer,
755:We live in a society of laws. Why do you think I took you to all those Police Academy movies? For fun? Well, I didn't hear anybody laughing, did you? ~ Homer,
756:He was too damned innocent. Homer wished he could keep Tad at this point, bonsai him to never grow up, to never have to experience bad things— ~ Douglas Clegg,
757:The sun rose on the flawless brimming sea into a sky all brazen-all one brightening for gods immortal and for mortal men on plowlands kind with grain. ~ Homer,
758:—You different, Lilith. You have more darkness ’bout you now. You turning into woman, Homer say to her. —Me turning into something, Lilith say. ~ Marlon James,
759:But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods
can defend a man, not even one they love, that day
when fate takes hold and lays him out at last. ~ Homer,
760:Achilles exists only through Homer . Take away the art of writing from this world , and you will probably take away its glory . ~ Francois Rene de Chateaubriand,
761:I am a part of all that I have met. Yet, experience is an arch wherethro gleams that untravl'd world whose margin fades forever and forever when I move. ~ Homer,
762:Stand strong, my heart;
through even worse pain you have suffered.
(Τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτ᾽ ἔτλης.)
Odyssey, Rhapsody 20:18 ~ Homer,
763:Oh, look at me! I'm making people happy! I'm the Magical Man from Happy-Land, in a gumdrop house on Lollipop Lane! Oh, by the way, I was being sarcastic. ~ Homer,
764:Say not a word in death's favor; I would rather be a paid servant in a poor man's house and be above ground than king of kings among the dead." -Achilles ~ Homer,
765:The gods granted us misery, in jealousy over the thought that we two, always together, should enjoy our youth, and then come to the threshold of old age. ~ Homer,
766:Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again. ~ Homer,
767:Homer must have felt this pressure to come up with an epic poem that would sound totally new to an audience that had loved his previous best-seller. ~ Anne Carson,
768:I would rather follow the plow as thrall to another man, one with no land allotted him and not much to live on, than be a king over all the perished dead. ~ Homer,
769:Mathematics is an activity governed by the same rules imposed upon the symphonies of Beethoven, the paintings of DaVinci, and the poetry of Homer. ~ Edward Kasner,
770:Sit down and hold your tongue as I bid you for if I once begin to lay my hands about you, though all heaven were on your side it would profit you nothing. ~ Homer,
771:The gods, likening themselves to all kinds of strangers, go in various disguises from city to city, observing the wrongdoing and the righteousness of men. ~ Homer,
772:At an early age I sucked up the milk of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Terence, Anacreon, Plato and Euripides, diluted with that of Moses and the prophets. ~ Denis Diderot,
773:There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends. ~ Homer,
774:Wine sets even a thoughtful man to singing, or sets him into softly laughing, sets him to dancing. Sometimes it tosses out a word that was better unspoken. ~ Homer,
775:Would he not say with Homer,. Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their ... ~ Plato,
776:Every author has the whole past to contend with; all the centuries are upon him. He is compared with Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
777:I was never a 'homer', a broadcaster who cheers the home team. Some fans don't like that. But my job wasn't to cheer. My job was to broadcast the game. ~ Curt Gowdy,
778:Acadia “Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” Homer, The Iliad ~ Mia Sheridan,
779:Books are useless! I only ever read one book, To Kill A Mockingbird, and it gave me absolutely no insight on how to kill mockingbirds! - Homer Simpson ~ Matt Groening,
780:I think I’m in love,” Hannah said, sighing at the sweet kisses little Homer was placing all over her face. Was there anything sweeter than puppy breath? ~ Marie Force,
781:No text more thoroughly penetrated Cleopatra’s world. In an age infatuated with history and calibrated in glory, Homer’s work was the Bible of the day. ~ Stacy Schiff,
782:Shakespeare was the Homer, or father of our dramatic poets;Jonson was theVirgil, the pattern of elaborate writing; I admire him, but I love Shakespeare. ~ John Dryden,
783:Virgil is serene and lovely like a marble Apollo in the moonlight; Homer is a beautiful, animated youth in the full sunlight with the wind in his hair. ~ Helen Keller,
784:the bronze blade stripped bark and leafage, and now at last the sons of the Achaians carry it in their hands in state when they administer the justice of Zeus. ~ Homer,
785:The earliest Greek philosopher's criticized Homer's mythology because the gods resembled mortals too much and were just as egotistic and treacherous. ~ Jostein Gaarder,
786:And now to one side Gorgythion drooped his head and heavy helmet; He let it fall over like the bloom of a garden poppy, heavy with seed and the rains of spring. ~ Homer,
787:Lastly, this threefold poetry flows from three great sources - The Bible, Homer, Shakespeare.... The Bible before the Iliad, the Iliad before Shakespeare. ~ Victor Hugo,
788:Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail. ~ Homer,
789:ARES (MARS) The God of War, son of Zeus and Hera, both of whom, Homer says, detested him. Indeed, he is hateful throughout the Iliad, poem of war though ~ Edith Hamilton,
790:He might have told Homer, then, that he loved him very much and that he needed something very active to occupy himself at this moment of Homer's departure. ~ John Irving,
791:In New York, after that famous home run, they expected me to be up there every year. That homer raised me to a high level, with the top guys in the game. ~ Bobby Thomson,
792:Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead. ~ Homer,
793:It was during a strike when I first saw hate on a man’s face. Hate is an awful thing. It gets inside you and makes you do things you swear you’d never do. ~ Homer Hickam,
794:The life that I have chosen gives me my full hours of enjoyment for the balance of my life. The sun will not rise, or set, without my notice, and thanks. ~ Winslow Homer,
795:And by the Sacred Parchment, I swear that if I reveal the secrets of The Stonecutters, may my stomach become bloated and my head be plucked of all but three hairs ~ Homer,
796:No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man's hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born. ~ Homer,
797:This, for Homer, is the tragedy of being human: to desire freedom, and be tortured by a sense of autonomy, and yet be imprisoned by forces beyond our control. ~ Kenan Malik,
798:Sullen Telemachus said, “Mother, no, you must not criticize the loyal bard for singing as it pleases him to sing. Poets are not to blame for how things are; Zeus is; ~ Homer,
799:There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends. ~ Homer,
800:The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid, of Plato & Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible ~ William Blake,
801:When night falls and the world lies lost in sleep,
I take to my bed, my heart throbbing, about to break,
anxieties swarming, piercing—I may go mad with grief. ~ Homer,
802:Canta, diosa, de Aquiles el Pelida ese resentimiento -¡que mal haya!- que infligió a los aqueos mil dolores, y muchas almas de héroes esforzados precipitó al Hades... ~ Homer,
803:Homer was wrong in saying, "Would that strife might pass away from among gods and men!" He did not see that he was praying for the destruction of the universe. ~ D H Lawrence,
804:I suppose I'd have to say that my favourite author is Homer. After Homer's Ilaid, I'd name The Odyssey, and then I'd mention a number of plays of Euripides. ~ William Golding,
805:no es un bien la soberanía de muchos; uno solo sea príncipe, uno solo rey: aquél a quien el hijo del artero Crono ha dado cetro y leyes para que reine sobre nosotros. ~ Homer,
806:There’s a plan. If you’re willing to fight it hard enough, you can make it detour for a while, but you’re still going to end up wherever God wants you to be. G ~ Homer Hickam,
807:Look now how mortals are blaming the gods, for they say that evils come from us, but in fact they themselves have woes beyond their share because of their own follies. ~ Homer,
808:The generation of mankind is like the generation of leaves. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the living tree burgeons with leaves again in the spring. ~ Homer,
809:Old people don't need companionship. They need to be isolated and studied so it can be determined what nutrients they have that might be extracted for our personal use. ~ Homer,
810:Education of youth is not a bow for every man to shoot in that counts himself a teacher; but will require sinews almost equal to those which Homer gave to Ulysses. ~ John Milton,
811:Reproach is infinite, and knows no end
So voluble a weapon is the tongue;
Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail
For every man has equal strength to rail. ~ Homer,
812:There is nothing more dread and more shameless than a woman who plans such deeds in her heart as the foul deed which she plotted when she contrived her husband's murder. ~ Homer,
813:They are destroying each other; the Achaians fight in defense over the fallen body while the others, the Trojans, are rushing to drag the corpse off 175  to windy Ilion, ~ Homer,
814:Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard: To carry nature lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more. ~ William Cowper,
815:Come then, put away your sword in its sheath, and let us two go up into my bed so that, lying together in the bed of love, we may then have faith and trust in each other. ~ Homer,
816:Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns. ~ Homer,
817:There is an astonishing imagination, even in the science of mathematics. ... We repeat, there was far more imagination in the head of Archimedes than in that of Homer. ~ Voltaire,
818:We do not need the praises of a Homer, or of anyone else whose words may delight us for the moment, but the estimation of facts will fall short of what is really true. ~ Pericles,
819:we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must be daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour and anxiety to acquire. ~ Homer,
820:write a history, we must know more than mere facts. Human nature, viewed under an introduction of extended experience, is the best help to the criticism of human history. ~ Homer,
821:Always be the best, my boy, the bravest, and hold your head up high above all the others. Never disgrace the generation of your fathers. They were the bravest champions... ~ Homer,
822:It has been an easy, and a popular expedient of late years, to deny the personal or real existence of men and things whose life and condition were too much for our belief. ~ Homer,
823:The way good inventions are made is to familiarize yourself with those of others. The men who cultivate letters and the arts are all sons of Homer. ~ Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres,
824:YOUTH, n. The Period of Possibility, when Archimedes finds a fulcrum, Cassandra has a following and seven cities compete for the honor of endowing a living Homer. ~ Ambrose Bierce,
825:For when two Join in the same adventure, one perceives Before the other how they ought to act; While one alone, however prompt, resolves More tardily and with a weaker will. ~ Homer,
826:I thought for a change I would give up drinking, and it was a great mistake, and, although I reduced the size of my nose and improved my beauty, my stomach suffered. ~ Winslow Homer,
827:The son of Saturn gave The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls Upon the Sovereign One's immortal head Were shaken, and with them the mighty mount, Olympus trembled. ~ Homer,
828:But death is a thing that comes to all alike. Not even the gods can fend it away from a man they love, when once the destructive doom of leveling death has fastened upon him. ~ Homer,
829:I didn’t care…about heroes who could read minds or walk through walls or do magic. The heroes I liked had courage and knew more real stuff than those who opposed them. ~ Homer Hickam,
830:She sent him a warm and gentle wind, and Lord Odysseus was happy as he set his sails to catch the breeze. He sat beside the steering oar and used his skill to steer the raft. ~ Homer,
831:When two men are together, one of them may see some opportunity which the other has not caught sight of; if a man is alone he is less full of resource, and his wit is weaker. ~ Homer,
832:Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead. ~ Homer,
833:L. 547. The terms made use of in this line, and in 481, may appear somewhat coarse, as addressed by one Goddess to another: but I assure the English reader that in this passage ~ Homer,
834:No man is going to hurl me to Hades, unless it is fated, but as for fate, I think that no man yet has escaped it once it has taken its first form, neither brave man nor coward. ~ Homer,
835:Oh for shame, how the mortals put the blame on us gods, for they say evils come from us, but it is they, rather, who by their own recklessness win sorrow beyond what is given... ~ Homer,
836:On the whole, Chaucer impresses us as greater than his reputation, and not a little like Homer and Shakespeare, for he would haveheld up his head in their company. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
837:To the thinker, the most trifling external object often suggests ideas, which, like Homer's chain, extend, link after link, from earth to heaven. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton 1st Baron Lytton,
838:Yet if our chief for plunder only fight, The spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite, Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers. ~ Homer,
839:If I had learned one thing from Homer over the years, it was that just because you couldn’t quite see your way out of a difficulty, that didn’t mean a way out didn’t exist. ~ Gwen Cooper,
840:In poetry there are two giants, rough Homer and fine Shakespere. In music likewise we have two giants, Beethoven, the thinker, and the superthinker Berlioz. ~ Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky,
841:Mike picked up Homer, and he discovered that, as long as there has been war, warriors have found the journey home, the journey back to normal, as trying as battle itself. ~ Eric Greitens,
842:Nurse Angela, with her love of cats and orphans, once remarked of Homer Wells that the boy must adore the name she gave him because he fought so hard not to lose it. ~ John Irving,
843:Probably the greatest writer of westerns himself was Homer. His character were never all good or all bad. They're half and half, these characters, as all human beings are. ~ Sergio Leone,
844:He called at once to his companion Patroclus, shouting for him from the ship. Hearing the call in his hut, Patroclus equal of Ares came out; and that was the beginning of his end. ~ Homer,
845:I sit, with all my theories, metaphors, and equations, Shakespeare and Milton, Barthes, Du Fu, and Homer, masters of death who can’t, at last, teach me how to touch my dead. ~ Ocean Vuong,
846:Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say
that we devise their misery. But they
themselves- in their depravity- design
grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns. ~ Homer,
847:Perverse mankind! whose wills, created free, Charge all their woes on absolute degree; All to the dooming gods their guilt translate, And follies are miscall'd the crimes of fate. ~ Homer,
848:The Odyssey puts us into a world that is a peculiar mixture of the strange and the familiar. The tension between strangeness and familiarity is in fact the poem’s central subject. ~ Homer,
849:When you get a walk-off homer, you get to do whatever you want. You need to be excited about it. You don't get too many of those, so you need to enjoy them when they come. ~ Albert Pujols,
850:With that the dream departed, leaving him there, his heart racing with hopes that would not come to pass. He thought he would take the city of Priam then, that very day, the fool. ~ Homer,
851:... and they limp and halt, they're all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side, can't look yu in the eyes, and always bent on duty, trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin. ~ Homer,
852:You think you don’t need anything,” she said. “You think you know yourself completely. Yet, the paradox is that you are on this journey to discover who you really are.” “But ~ Homer Hickam,
853:... and they limp and halt, they're all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side, can't look you in the eyes, and always bent on duty, trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin. ~ Homer,
854:For nothing could be better than when two live in one house, their minds in harmony, husband and wife. Their enemies are jealous, their friends delighted, and they have great honor. ~ Homer,
855:On with you, horse-taming Trojans! Never give Greeks best in your will to fight! They are not made of stone or iron. Their flesh can't keep out penetrating spears when they are hit. ~ Homer,
856:The wine urges me on, the bewitching wine, which sets even a wise man to singing and to laughing gently and rouses him up to dance and brings forth words which were better unspoken. ~ Homer,
857:It is equally wrong to speed a guest who does not want to go, and to keep one back who is eager. You ought to make welcome the present guest, and send forth the one who wishes to go. ~ Homer,
858:Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that [the gods] devise their misery. But [men] themselves- in their depravity- design
grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns. ~ Homer,
859:That one of them who wins and is proved stronger, let him take the possessions fairly and the woman, and lead her homeward while the rest of us cut our oaths of faith and friendship. ~ Homer,
860:You clearly are a remarkable man,” she said, “to travel with such creatures. The rooster is much more than he seems, as is the alligator. But, of course, you know that.” Homer ~ Homer Hickam,
861:«¡Ay, ay, cómo culpan los mortales a los dioses!, pues de nosotros, dicen, proceden los males. Pero también ellos por su estupidez soportan dolores más allá de lo que les corresponde. ~ Homer,
862:it is the cowards who walk out of the fighting, but if one is to win honor in battle, he must by all means 410  stand his ground strongly, whether he be struck or strike down another. ~ Homer,
863:Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise. ~ Homer,
864:This year I invested in pumpkins. They've been going up the whole month of October and I got a feeling they're going to peak right around January. Then bang! That's when I'll cash in. ~ Homer,
865:Let me find you. If you don’t, I will still look. If you won’t, I will still look. If you can’t, I will still look. It is the looking that finds the love, Not the finding. Homer ~ Homer Hickam,
866:A man can't hit a woman and stay a man. He becomes a loathsome thing, even to himself. But the woman who stays with such a man panders to his darkness. They both risk their souls. ~ Homer Hickam,
867:And his good wife will tear her cheeks in grief, his sons are orphans and he, soaking the soil red with his own blood, he rots away himself-more birds than women flocking round his body! ~ Homer,
868:And his good wife will tear her cheeks in grief, his sons are orphans and he, soaking the soil red with his own blood, he rots away himself—more birds than women flocking round his body! ~ Homer,
869:[Ned Flanders]: Well looks like someone's having a pre-rapture party.

[Homer Simpson]: No, Flanders. Its a meeting of gay witches for abortion, you wouldn't be interested. ~ Matt Groening,
870:Not like Homer would I write, Not like Dante if I might, Not like Shakespeare at his best, Not like Goethe or the rest, Like myself, however small, Like myself, or not at all. ~ William Allingham,
871:he himself with high thoughts strode out in the foremost and hurled himself on the struggle of men like a high-blown storm-cloud which swoops down from above to trouble the blue sea-water. ~ Homer,
872:He wanted to take Homer Wells in his arms, and hug him, and kiss him, but he could only hope that Homer understood how much Dr. Larch's self-esteem was dependent on his self-control. ~ John Irving,
873:It is equally bad when one speeds on the guest unwilling to go, and when he holds back one who is hastening. Rather one should befriend the guest who is there, but speed him when he wishes. ~ Homer,
874:Themistocles being asked whether he would rather be Achilles or Homer, said, "Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors? ~ Plutarch,
875:As in a dream a man is not able to follow one who runs 200  from him, nor can the runner escape, nor the other pursue him, so he could not run him down in his speed, nor the other get clear. ~ Homer,
876:A whole generation was raised to learn about comedy from The Simpsons. To get to be in a booth with Homer and Marge and be in Springfield - it was unimaginable the emotions that I felt. ~ Jonah Hill,
877:Hemingway reached over and took Elsie’s hand. “Do you know Dylan Thomas? I have always admired his take on death. Like he, I intend to go raging against the dying of the light.” “Dear, ~ Homer Hickam,
878:It's disgraceful how these humans blame the gods. They say their tribulations come from us, when they themselves, through their own foolishness, bring hardships which are not decreed by Fate. ~ Homer,
879:Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you to the field where men win fame. ~ Homer,
880:Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above  With ease can save each object of his love;  Wide as his will, extends his boundless grace. ~ Homer, The Odyssey, Book III, line 285. Pope's translation,
881:Every time you throw a snail off the dock," Ray teased Homer Wells, "you're making someone start his whole life over."

"Maybe I'm doing him a favor," said Homer Wells, the orphan. ~ John Irving,
882:Ne rüzgar eserdi orada ne yağmur yağardı, kar bile düşmezdi,
yaz günlerinin bulutsuz havası
ve bembeyaz parlaklığı hüküm sürerdi;
mutlu tanrılar işte orada tadını çıkarırdı günlerinin. ~ Homer,
883:She spoke and loosened from her bosom the embroidered girdle of many colors into which all her allurements were fashioned. In it was love and int desire which steals the mind even of the wise. ~ Homer,
884:You can't go wrong with cocktail weenies. They look as good as they taste. And they come in this delicious red sauce. It looks like ketchup, it tastes like ketchup, but brother, it ain't ketchup! ~ Homer,
885:hen the price of carbon reaches $100 a tonne, then it will become an economically viable business proposition to start taking CO₂ out of the atmosphere and sequestering it underground. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
886:Homer’s Iliad was the cultural encyclopedia of pre-literate Greece, the didactic vehicle that provided men with guidance for the management of their spiritual, ethical, and social lives. ~ Marshall McLuhan,
887:The tongue of a man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind, the range of words is wide, and their variance. The sort of thing you say is the thing that will be said to you. ~ Homer,
888:To many, Homer may appear lazy and a loser, but he's just much misguided. He's boorish, sure, but well meaning and, I guess, the one thing we have in common is the pursuit of lousy diets. ~ Dan Castellaneta,
889:What a lamentable thing it is that men should blame the gods and regard us as the source of their troubles, when it is their own transgressions which bring them suffering that was not their destiny. ~ Homer,
890:And when long years and seasons wheeling brought around that point of time ordained for him to make his passage homeward, trials and dangers, even so, attended him even in Ithaca, near those he loved. ~ Homer,
891:He always made a point of mentioning that he was reading the Odyssey on his iPad. Books are an obsolete technology! he’d say. Get with the times. Homer on an iPad, now that’s an adventure. ~ Daniel Mendelsohn,
892:So the gods pulled alternately on the rope of this violent and evenly balanced battle, to make it taut over the two sides. The rope was indestructible and no one could break it; but it broke many men. ~ Homer,
893:Three thousand years have not changed the human condition in this respect; we are still lovers and victims of the will to violence, and so long as we are, Homer will be read as its truest interpreter. ~ Homer,
894:Homer is one of the men of genius who solve that fine problem of art - the finest of all, perhaps - truly to depict humanity by the enlargement of man: that is, to generate the real in the ideal. ~ Victor Hugo,
895:Homer Simpson has been more inspirational to me than probably any cartoon character. What he represents, I think, there's a part of that in everybody. There certainly is in me, and I love that. ~ Michael Welch,
896:Beware, Diomedês! Forbear, Diomedês! Do not try to put yourself on a level with the gods; that is too high for a man's ambition. The immortal gods are one race, men that walk upon the earth are another. ~ Homer,
897:Goddess-nurse of the young, give ear to my prayer, and grant that this woman may reject the love-embraces of youth and dote on grey-haired old men whose powers are dulled, but whose hearts still desire. ~ Homer,
898:There are such things as ghosts. People everywhere have always known that. And we believe in them every bit as much as Homer did. Only now, we call them by different names. Memory. The unconscious. ~ Donna Tartt,
899:Why have you come to me here, dear heart, with all these instructions? I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other's arms. ~ Homer,
900:Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share. ~ Homer,
901:Homer begged and Rembrandt went bankrupt. Aristotle, who had money for books, his school, and his museum, could not have bought this painting of himself.
Rembrandt could not afford a Rembrandt. ~ Joseph Heller,
902:Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round. ~ Homer,
903:Sing, goddess, of Achilles' ruinous anger
Which brought ten thousand pains to the Achaeans,
And cast the souls of many stalwart heroes
To Hades, and their bodies to the dogs
And birds of prey. ~ Homer,
904:The Scripture stories do not, like Homer’s, court our favor, they do not flatter us that they may please us and enchant us—they seek to subject us, and if we refuse to be subjected we are rebels. ~ Erich Auerbach,
905:Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good; from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills; to most he mingles both. ~ Homer,
906:Impressive displays of rhetoric and linguistic force are a good way to seem important and invite a particular kind of admiration, but they tend to silence dissent and discourage deeper modes of engagement. ~ Homer,
907:You, why are you so afraid of war and slaughter? Even if all the rest of us drop and die around you, grappling for the ships, you’d run no risk of death: you lack the heart to last it out in combat—coward! ~ Homer,
908:Iliad by Homer is one of the great stories in literature. And I thought its themes really resonated today, whether that was my projection or Homer's intentions. It didn't seem like we had come very far. ~ Brad Pitt,
909:No ancient story, not even Homer's Iliad or Odyssey, has remained as popular through the course of time. The story of Rama appears as old as civilization and has a fresh appeal for every generation. ~ David Frawley,
910:Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its demands. ~ Homer,
911:The oldest written poem was by the Greek, Homer. His poem, The Iliad, tells the story of the siege of Troy, a story of the heroes who fought to the death to get Helen back to her hubby, King Menelaus. ~ Terry Deary,
912:Even when someone battles hard, there is an equal portion for one who lingers behind, and in the same honor are held both the coward and the brave man; the idle man and he who has done much meet death alike. ~ Homer,
913:For works of the mind really great there is no old age, no decrepitude. It is inconceivable that a time should come when Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, should not ring in the ears of civilized man. ~ William E Gladstone,
914:Homer and Hesiod attributed to the gods all things which are disreputable and worthy of blame when done by men; and they told of them many lawless deeds, stealing, adultery, and deception of each other. ~ Xenophanes,
915:In this way, the Odyssey’s hero embodies one of its central themes, which is that the capacity to defer satisfaction and endure suffering is as necessary for success as the ability to perform brilliant feats. ~ Homer,
916:Science is continually correcting what it has said. Fertile corrections... science is a ladder... poetry is a winged flight... An artistic masterpiece exists for all time... Dante does not efface Homer. ~ Victor Hugo,
917:Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born. ~ Homer,
918:A man cannot hide away the cravings of a hungry belly; this is an enemy which gives much trouble to all men; it is because of this that ships are fitted out to sail the seas, and to make war upon other people. ~ Homer,
919:My mind and fingers have worked like the damned. Homer, the Bible, Plato, Locke, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Beethoven, Bach, Hummel, Mozart, Weber are all around me. I study them. I devour them with fury. ~ Franz Liszt,
920:Ogni volta che lanci una lumaca dalla darsena," Ray disse a Homer Wells per canzonarlo, "costringi qualcuno a ricominciare la vita daccapo".
"Magari gli faccio un favore," disse Homer Wells, l'orfano. ~ John Irving,
921:Upon my word, just see how mortal men always put the blame on us gods! We are the source of evil, so they say - when they have only their own madness to think if their miseries are worse than they ought to be. ~ Homer,
922:What a lamentable thing it is that men should blame the gods and regard us as the source of their troubles, when it is their own wickedness that brings them sufferings worse than any which destiny allots them. ~ Homer,
923:. . . But if he is truly

Odysseus, home at last, make no mistake:

we two will know each other, even better —

we two have secret signs,

known to us both but hidden from the world. ~ Homer,
924:Elbette ki tanrılar her insana bağışlamazlar
iyi bir beden, akıl ya da topluluk önünde konuşma yeteneği
Kiminin yüz güzelliği diğerlerinden aşağıdır ama
tanrı onun varlığını tatlı dille taçlandırmıştır ~ Homer,
925:Generations of men are like the leaves. In winter, winds blow them down to earth, but then, when spring season comes again, the budding wood grows more. And so with men: one generation grows, another dies away. ~ Homer,
926:No finer, greater gift in the world than that: When man and woman possess their home, two minds, two hearts that work as one. Despair to their enemies, a joy to all their friends. Their own best claim to glory. ~ Homer,
927:There are such things as ghosts. People everywhere have always known that. And we believe in them every bit as much as Homer did. Only now, we call them by different names. Memory. The unconscious. ~ Donna Tartt,
928:Fate is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he fights hard. We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. A man dies still if he has done nothing, as the one who has done much. ~ Homer,
929:Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure… For already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war. Let this be added to the tale of those. ~ Homer,
930:But when he spoke, that great voice of his poured out of his chest in words like the snowflakes of winter, and then no other mortal could in debate contend with Odysseus. Nor did we care any longer how he looked. ~ Homer,
931:Shoulder-to-shoulder, swing to the work, we must - just two as we are - if we hope to make some headway. The worst cowards, banded together, have their power, but you and I have got the skill to fight their best. ~ Homer,
932:You remember how I used to tell you that I was Doctor Larch's helper?" Homer asked Angel.
"Right," said Angel Wells.
"Well, I got very good--at helping him," Homer said. "Very good. I'm not an amateur ~ John Irving,
933:A hopeless exile from his native home, From death alone exempt—but cease to mourn; Let all combine to achieve his wish'd return; Neptune atoned, his wrath shall now refrain, Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain. ~ Homer,
934:Ruin, eldest daughter of Zeus, she blinds us all, that fatal madness—she with those delicate feet of hers, never touching the earth, gliding over the heads of men to trap us all. She entangles one man, now another. ~ Homer,
935:The science of Humboldt is one thing, poetry is another thing. The poet to-day, notwithstanding all the discoveries of science, and the accumulated learning of mankind, enjoys no advantage over Homer. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
936:If Bacchus ever had a color he could claim for his own, it should surely be the shade of tannin on drunken lips, of John Keat's 'purple-stained mouth,' or perhaps even of Homer's dangerously wine-dark sea. ~ Victoria Finlay,
937:norris didn't cry, but he was apt to puke on them, the way he had puked on homer gamache that time he had found homer sprawled in a ditch out by homeland cemetary, beaten to death with his own artificial arm. ~ Stephen King,
938:Still, we will let all this be a thing of the past, though it hurts us, and beat down by constraint the anger that rises inside us. Now I am making an end of my anger. It does not become me, unrelentingly to rage on ~ Homer,
939:Far from the hateful cause of all his woes. Neleus his treasures one long year detains, As long he groan'd in Philacus' chains: Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined For lovely Pero rack'd his labouring mind! ~ Homer,
940:I also became a poet, and for one year lived in a Paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley,
941:Money appears as measure (in Homer, e.g. oxen) earlier than as medium of exchange, because in barter each commodity is still its own medium of exchange. But it cannot be its own or its own standard of comparison. ~ Karl Marx,
942:[I]t is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to sing at the top of his lungs, laugh like a fool – it drives the man to dancing... it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told. ~ Homer,
943:Still, we will let all this be a thing of the past, though it hurts us, and beat down by constraint the anger that rises inside us.
Now I am making an end of my anger. It does not become me, unrelentingly to rage on ~ Homer,
944:Then, O swineherd Eumaios, you said to him in answer: ‘This, it is too true, is the dog of a man who perished far away. If he were such, in build and performance, as when Odysseus left him behind, when he went to Ilion, ~ Homer,
945:Homer is right: “Bad is the lordship of many; let one be your ruler and master.” For such a man law would be rather an instrument than a limit: “for men of eminent ability there is no law—they are themselves a law. ~ Will Durant,
946:Human beings have been smart enough to turn nature to their ends, generate vast wealth for themselves, and double their average life span. But are they smart enough to solve the problems of the 21st century? ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
947:I get letters from college kids who have read Percy Jackson when they were younger who tell me, 'I just passed my Classics exam.' The books are accurate enough that they can serve as a gateway to Homer and Virgil. ~ Rick Riordan,
948:Let him submit to me! Only the god of death is so relentless, Death submits to no one—so mortals hate him most of all the gods. Let him bow down to me! I am the greater king, I am the elder-born, I claim—the greater man. ~ Homer,
949:When a woman says nothing's wrong, that means everything's wrong. And when a woman says everything's wrong, that means everything's wrong! And when a woman says something's not funny, you'd better not laugh your ass off! ~ Homer,
950:You will certainly not be able to take the lead in all things yourself, for to one man a god has given deeds of war, and to another the dance, to another lyre and song, and in another wide-sounding Zeus puts a good mind. ~ Homer,
951:The student may read Homer or Æschylus in the Greek without danger of dissipation or luxuriousness, for it implies that hein some measure emulate their heroes, and consecrate morning hours to their pages. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
952:Generations of men are like the leaves.
In winter, winds blow them down to earth,
but then, when spring season comes again,
the budding wood grows more. And so with men:
one generation grows, another dies away. ~ Homer,
953:So vertraulich, so heimlich hab' ich nicht leicht ein Plätzchen gefunden, und dahin lass' ich mein Tischchen aus dem Wirtshause bringen und meinen Stuhl, trinke meinen Kaffee da und lesen meinen Homer. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
954:Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep,
even so I will endure…
For already have I suffered full much,
and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war.
Let this be added to the tale of those. ~ Homer,
955:But his sister, Artemis of the wild, the lady of wild beasts,
scolded him bitterly and spoke a word of revilement:
'You run from him, striker from afar...Fool, then why do you wear that bow, which is wind and nothing. ~ Homer,
956:He's meant to be that classic Homer, Ulysses, Hercules - a character who goes out or has some gift of some kind. He goes on a journey of discovery and part of that is falling into darkness - the temptations of life. ~ Robert Redford,
957:momma so stupid I told her I was reading a book by Homer and she asked if I had anything written by Bart. *** What do you get when you cross a Rottweiler with a Collie?
A dog who bites off your arm and goes to get help. ~ Various,
958:Homer Wells non si sentiva in salvo. Chi mai, innamorato e insoddisfatto per come il suo amore è ricambiato, chi mai si sente in salvo? Al contrario, Homer Wells si sentiva preso di mira e perseguitato in modo speciale. ~ John Irving,
959:On these sands and in the clefts of the rocks, in the depths of the sea, in the creaking of the pines, you'll spy secret footprints and catch far-off voices from the homecoming celebration. This land still longs for Odysseus. ~ Homer,
960:What I say will be a bit of boasting. The mad wine tells me to do it. Wine sets even a thoughtful man to singing, or sets him into softly laughing, sets him to dancing. Sometimes it tosses out a word that was better unspoken. ~ Homer,
961:But that’s what kismet is. It makes us careen off in odd directions from which we learn not only what life is about but what it is for. This journey may be nothing less than your chance to discover these things.” “You’re ~ Homer Hickam,
962:If one could read fluently, confidently, in every known language, one would have no need of translators or translations; one could read Homer on Mondays, Akhmatova on Tuesdays, Swahili poets on Wednesdays, and so on. ~ Abraham Verghese,
963:Remember that postcard Grandpa sent us from Florida of that Alligator biting that woman's bottom? That's right, we all thought it was hilarious. But, it turns out we were wrong. That alligator was sexually harassing that woman. ~ Homer,
964:Very like leaves upon this earth are the generations of men—old leaves, cast on the ground by wind, young leaves the greening forest bears when spring comes in. So mortals pass; one generation flowers even as another dies away. ~ Homer,
965:Very like leaves upon this earth are the generations of men--old leaves, cast on the ground by wind, young leaves the greening forest bears when spring comes in. So mortals pass; one generation flowers even as another dies away. ~ Homer,
966:Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares; for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings. ~ Homer,
967:Por espacio de nueve días acarrearon abundante leña; y, cuando por décima vez apuntó la aurora, que trae la luz a los mortales, sacaron llorando el cadáver del audaz Héctor, lo pusieron en lo alto de la pira y le prendieron fuego. ~ Homer,
968:We are perpetually labouring to destroy our delights, our composure, our devotion to superior power. Of all the animals on earth we least know what is good for us. My opinion is, that what is best for us is our admiration of good. ~ Homer,
969:I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit, and let the dark blood flow. Then there gathered the spirits of the dead, brides and unwed youths, old men worn out by labour, and tender maidens with hearts still new to sorrow. ~ Homer,
970:Poor Andromache! Why does your heart sorrow so much for me? No man is going to hurl me to Hades, unless it is fated, but as for fate, I think no man has yet escaped it once it has taken its first form, neither brave man nor coward. ~ Homer,
971:Homer and Shakespeare and Milton and Marvell and Wordsworth are but the rustling of leaves and crackling of twigs in the forest, and there is not yet the sound of any bird. The Muse has never lifted up her voice to sing. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
972:It was crushingly disappointing as a fan of The Simpsons to discover that it's just you in a room speaking into a microphone. I thought I was going to become friends with Homer Simpson, but unfortunately none of them are real. ~ Russell Brand,
973:One who journeying Along a way he knows not, having crossed A place of drear extent, before him sees A river rushing swiftly toward the deep, And all its tossing current white with foam, And stops and turns, and measures back his way. ~ Homer,
974:There are no moral or intellectual merits. Homer composed the Odyssey; if we postulate an infinite period of time, with infinite circumstances and changes, the impossible thing is not to compose the Odyssey, at least once. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
975:You must completely dedicate yourselves to it. To do less will be to let down your country, your state, your parents, your teachers, and ultimately, yourselves. Remember this: The only good citizen is the well-educated citizen. ~ Homer Hickam,
976:All things are in the hand of heaven, and Folly, eldest of Jove's daughters, shuts men's eyes to their destruction. She walks delicately, not on the solid earth, but hovers over the heads of men to make them stumble or to ensnare them. ~ Homer,
977:As in dark forests, measureless along
the crests of hills, a conflagration soars,
and the bright bed of fire glows for miles,
now fiery lights from this great host in bronze
played on the earth and flashed high into heaven. ~ Homer,
978:Wine And Song
Bring me hither Homer's lute,
Taught with mirth (not wars) to suit;
Reach a full cup, that I may
All the laws of wine obey,
Drink, and dance, and to the lyre
Sing what Bacchus shall inspire.
~ Anacreon,
979:Mention Homer across a table and a kind of anxiety comes into the face you are looking at, a sort of shame, perhaps a fear of seeming stupid and ignorant. Almost no one loves the poems he wrote or the phrases that recur in them. ~ Adam Nicolson,
980:But now, as it is, sorrows, unending sorrows must surge within your heart as well—for your own son’s death. Never again will you embrace him stiding home. My spirit rebels—I’ve lost the will to live, to take my stand in the world of men— ~ Homer,
981:[I]t is the wine that leads me on,
the wild wine
that sets the wisest man to sing
at the top of his lungs,
laugh like a fool – it drives the
man to dancing... it even
tempts him to blurt out stories
better never told. ~ Homer,
982:Confidence in one's self is the chief nurse of magnanimity, which confidence, notwithstanding, doth not leave the care of necessary furniture for it; and therefore, of all the Grecians, Homer doth ever make Achilles the best armed. ~ Philip Sidney,
983:Greetings, friends. Do you wish to look as happy as me? Well, you've got the power inside you right now. So use it and send one dollar to Happy Dude, 742 Evergreen Terrace, Springfield. Don't delay. Eternal happiness is just a dollar away. ~ Homer,
984:Moderation is best in all things, and not letting a man go when he wants to do so is as bad as telling him to go if he would like to stay. One should treat a guest well as long as he is in the house and speed him when he wants to leave it. ~ Homer,
985:A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth - and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases. ~ Homer,
986:This found its classic expression in Homer’s Iliad, in which Glaucus says to Diomedes that he still hears his father’s urgings ringing in his ears: Always be the best, my boy, the bravest, and hold your head high above the others. ~ Anthony Everitt,
987:Very like leaves upon this earth are the generations of men—
old leaves, cast on the ground by wind, young leaves
the greening forest bears when spring comes in.
So mortals pass; one generation flowers
even as another dies away. ~ Homer,
988:As a text, the Quran is more than the foundation of the Islamic religion; it is the source of Arabic grammar. It is to Arabic what Homer is to Greek, what Chaucer is to English: a snapshot of an evolving language, frozen forever in time ~ Reza Aslan,
989:I respect and reverence you, dear father-in-law, I wish I had chosen death rather than following your son, leaving behind my bridal chamber, my beloved daughter, my dear childhood friends and my kin. But I did not, and I pine away in sorrow. ~ Homer,
990:My mother Thetis tells me that there are two ways in which I may meet my end. If I stay here and fight, I will not return alive but my name will live forever: whereas if I go home my name will die, but it will be long ere death shall take me. ~ Homer,
991:But they could neither of them persuade me, for there is nothing dearer to a man than his own country and his parents, and however splendid a home he may have in a foreign country, if it be far from father or mother, he does not care about it. ~ Homer,
992:My son, Achilles is of nobler birth than you and he is also by far the stronger man. But you are older than he is. It is for you to give him sound advice, make suggestions and give him a lead which he will follow to his own advantage.’’ Nestor ~ Homer,
993:I shall be among the riders, and command them with word and counsel; such is the privilege of the old men. The young spearmen shall do the spear-fighting, those who are born 325  of a generation later than mine, who trust in their own strength. ~ Homer,
994:No one has written the way Isaiah does. The royal style, the majesty of the language. He is called the prince of the prophets. No one has written like that. I've studied ancient literature, Homer, for example, but it's not the same thing. ~ Elie Wiesel,
995:Pero aquel que se siente tocado por mi lanza no tarda en expirar. Su esposa se desgarra las mejillas, quedan sus hijos huérfanos y enrojece él la tierra con su sangre, y se corrompe, y hay en torno suyo más aves de rapiña que hembras gemebundas ~ Homer,
996:As, in the serious style, Homer is pre-eminent among poets, for he alone combined dramatic form with excellence of imitation, so he too first laid down the main lines of Comedy, by dramatising the ludicrous instead of writing personal satire. ~ Aristotle,
997:But what came easily to Homer (and to Xenophon, in prose) was no longer easily available to the moderns, who introduced the presence of the representing subject into representation itself (Byron being a prime example in the Zibaldone). ~ Giacomo Leopardi,
998:At times it has been doubtful to me if Emerson really knows or feels what Poetry is at its highest, as in the Bible, for instance, or Homer or Shakspeare. I see he covertly or plainly likes best superb verbal polish, or something old or odd ~ Walt Whitman,
999:Cattle and fat sheep can all be had for the raiding, tripods for the trading, and tawny headed stallions. But a mans's lifebreath cannot come back again- no raiders in force, no trading brings it back, once it slips through a man's clenched teeth. ~ Homer,
1000:One man is a splendid fighter -- a god has made him so -- one's a dancer, another skilled at lyre and song, and deep in the next man's chest farseeing Zeus plants the gift of judgment, good clear sense. And many reap the benefits of that treasure. ~ Homer,
1001:Mankind, which in Homer’s time was an object of contemplation for the Olympian gods, is now one for itself. Its self-alienation has reached such a degree that it can experience its own destruction as aesthetic pleasure of the first order. ~ Walter Benjamin,
1002:You are my work of art," Wilbur Larch told Homer Wells. "Everything else has just been a job. I don't know if you've got a work of art in you," Larch concluded in his letter to Homer, "but I know what your job is,and you know what it is, too. ~ John Irving,
1003:For who can admit the fault imputed to Homer by Protagoras, — that in the words, ‘Sing, goddess, of the wrath,’ he gives a command under the idea that he utters a prayer? For to tell some one to do a thing or not to do it is, he says, a command. ~ Aristotle,
1004:Tell me now, you Muses who have your homes on Olympos. 485  For you, who are goddesses, are there, and you know all things, and we have heard only the rumor of it and know nothing. Who then of those were the chief men and the lords of the Danaäns? I ~ Homer,
1005:To Homer, libraries were holy places like churches, and the priestly librarians a blessed race, a saving remnant in a world of sin. Whenever God grew impatient and decided to destroy the world he remembered the librarians and stayed his hand. ~ Jane Langton,
1006:unlike Virgil, Homer is no part of the classical age, has no truck with judicious distinction or the calm management of life and society. He precedes that order, is a preclassic, immoderate, uncompromising, never sacrificing truth for grace. ~ Adam Nicolson,
1007:In The Odyssey, we find instead the story of a man whose grand adventure is simply to go back to his own home, where he tries to turn everything back to the way it was before he went away. For this hero, mere survival is the most amazing feat of all. ~ Homer,
1008:its terms? Homer watched her as she dressed, like a valet who had waited on her since the cradle. “I’m caught,” Cora said. “You choose to be with him.” Homer looked puzzled. He took out his notebook, turned to the last page, and scribbled. ~ Colson Whitehead,
1009:All right then. Here's my story. Even though
it plunges me into deeper grief than I feel now.
But that's the way of the world, when one has been
so far from home, so long away as I, roving over
many cities of men, enduring many hardships. ~ Homer,
1010:The historian, on the contrary, cannot experiment and can rarely observe. Instead, the historian has to collect his own evidence, knowing, all the while, that some of it is useless and much of it unreliable."
-Professor Charles Homer Haskins ~ Jill Lepore,
1011:Without question it may be said of Vancouver that her position, geographically, is Imperial to a degree, that her possibilities are enormous, and that with but a feeble stretch of the imagination those possibilities might wisely be deemed certainties. ~ Homer,
1012:I'm going old school. Adult comedy but you can have your kids in the room. Kind of Andy Griffith meets Bill Cosby meets Bob Newhart. Also my character isn't an idiot as all the rest of the sitcoms recently have the dad character like Homer Simpson. ~ Henry Cho,
1013:Limping, attendants rushed up to support him,
Attendants made of gold who looked like real girls,
With a mind within, and a voice, and strength,
And knowledge of crafts from the immortal gods.
These busily moved to support their lord... ~ Homer,
1014:The most intriguing aspect of the Hawara Homer, and other papyri of the same era, is how close they are to the text of Homer as it was transmitted to the Byzantine scholars who were assembling the Venetus A manuscript eight hundred years later. ~ Adam Nicolson,
1015:To quote Homer Simpson, alcohol is the cause and solution to all of life's problems. I don't think there's anything wrong with drinking and drug use, if people can do it and not hurt themselves. But it got to the point where I was really hurting myself. ~ Moby,
1016:Achilleus started awake, staring,        and drove his hands together, and spoke, and his words were sorrowful:        “Oh, wonder! Even in the house of Hades there is left something,        a soul and an image, but there is no real heart of life in it. ~ Homer,
1017:Read Homer once, and you can read no more,  For all books else appear so mean, so poor,  Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read,  And Homer will be all the books you need. ~ John Sheffield (Duke of Buckinghamshire), An Essay on Poetry, line 323.,
1018:Goddess, not be angry with me about this. I am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing else. ~ Homer,
1019:Whoever among men who walk the Earth has seen these Mysteries is blessed, but whoever in uninitiated and has not received his share of the rite, he will not have the same lot as the others, once he is dead and dwells in the mould where the sun goes down. ~ Homer,
1020:O friends, be men; so act that none may feel Ashamed to meet the eyes of other men. Think each one of this children and his wife, His home, his parents, living yet and dead. For them, the absent ones, I supplicate, And bid you rally here, and scorn to fly. ~ Homer,
1021:the motives of the writer form as important an ingredient in the analysis or his history, as the facts he records. Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is sifted. ~ Homer,
1022:Like a girl, a baby running after her mother, begging to be picked up, and she tugs on her skirts, holding her back as she tries to hurry off—all tears, fawning up at her, till she takes her in her arms… That’s how you look, Patroclus, streaming live tears. ~ Homer,
1023:Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away. ~ Homer,
1024:There is truth in stories. There is truth in one of your paintings, boy, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not fact. If you believe only facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1025:Well, you know what Julian would say,’ said Francis. ‘There are such things as ghosts. People everywhere have always known that. And we believe in them every bit as much as Homer did. Only now, we call them by different names. Memory. The unconscious. ~ Donna Tartt,
1026:You have the sky overhead giving one light; then the reflected light from whatever reflects; then the direct light of the sun; so that, in the blending and suffusing of these several luminations, there is no such thing as a line to be seen anywhere. ~ Winslow Homer,
1027:Men come and go as leaves year by year upon the trees. Those of autumn the wind sheds upon the ground, but when spring returns the forest buds forth with fresh vines. Even so is it with the generations of mankind, the new spring up as the old are passing away ~ Homer,
1028:There is truth in stories. There is truth in one of your paintings, boy, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1029:There is something frightful in being required to enjoy and appreciate all masterpieces; to read with equal relish Milton, and Dante, and Calderon, and Goethe, and Homer, and Scott, and Voltaire, and Wordsworth, and Cervantes, and Molière, and Swift. ~ Agnes Repplier,
1030:I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey. ~ Homer,
1031:And what does he have to say to the impressionable young student at his side? That all poets must eventually bow before the haiku. Bow before the haiku! Can you imagine.” “For my part,” contributed the Count, “I am glad that Homer wasn’t born in Japan.” Mishka ~ Amor Towles,
1032:I like to quote Homer Simpson: 'I'm like a chocoholic except for alcohol.' I come from a long line of alcoholics. It's funny because when I first started making records, I was at the tail end of a period of sobriety, so I somehow got this reputation as Captain Sober. ~ Moby,
1033:Wake up, buddy. You okay?” “Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” Homer’s VR came online, smiling. “I guess we got’em.” I snorted with relief. “And their little dog, too.” Homer steepled his fingers in a properly evil mastermindish pose. “All their base are belong to us. ~ Dennis E Taylor,
1034:I'm nothing but envious that you've been happily married for two years. Try hauling your cookies on a new blind date every Friday, only to have your, already extremely low, expectations dashed as you meet men who look like Quasimodo and have Homer Simpson's IQ.  ~ Jane Green,
1035:And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house. ~ Homer,
1036:down the dank mouldering paths and past the Ocean's streams they went
and past the White Rock and the Sun's Western Gates and past
the Land of Dreams, and soon they reached the fields of asphodel
where the dead, the burnt-out wraiths of mortals make their home ~ Homer,
1037:Alles wird man ja satt, des schlafes sogar, und der liebe,
Auch des süßen gesangs, und bewunderten reigentanzes:
Welche doch mehr anreizen die sehnsuchtsvolle begierde,
Als der krieg; doch die Troer sind niemals satt des gefechts! (Ilias; 13. Gesang V. 636-640) ~ Homer,
1038:Independently of me the grass grows, the rain falls on the grass that grows, and the sun shines on the patch of grass that grew or will grow; the hills have been there for ages, and the wind blows in the same way as when Homer heard it, even if he didn’t exist. ~ Fernando Pessoa,
1039:The conundrum that I face on a daily basis is that I have two sons who have grown up watching 'The Simpsons,' so they know exactly what buttons to push. They know how Bart irritates Homer, and they use these lines against me to tell me that I'm not funny anymore. ~ Matt Groening,
1040:If Hesiod did write it, then a humble peasant, living on a lonely farm far from cities, was the first man in Greece to wonder how everything had happened, the world, the sky, the gods, mankind, and to think out an explanation. Homer never wondered about anything. ~ Edith Hamilton,
1041:There is truth in stories," said Arthur. "There is truth in one of your paintings, boy, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1042:There is truth in stories,' said Arthur. 'There is truth in one of your paintings, boy, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1043:Translation is the art of listening. In one ear is the sound of the original text, and in the other is a rhythm, wordless, waiting to find its voice. Somehow, eventually, the right words rise into the rhythm and become it, as if the listening created what one wanted to hear. ~ Homer,
1044:Fourier believed the world would eventually contain thirty-seven million poets equal to Homer, thirty-seven million mathematicians equal to Newton, and thirty-seven million dramatists equal to Molière—although, he admitted, these were only “approximate estimates. ~ Charles D Ambrosio,
1045:There is truth in stories,” said Arthur. “There is truth in one of your paintings, boy or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not a fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1046:The whole genius of an author consists in describing well, and delineating character well. Homer, Plato, Virgil, Horace only excel other writers by their expressions and images; we must indicate what is true if we mean to write naturally, forcibly and delicately. ~ Jean de la Bruyere,
1047:Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" is still in print. They're debating right now over Mark Twain. He's still available. Winslow Homer can still be seen. Our arts are - they're there. We got to go get them and understand that this is an important legacy for our country. ~ Wynton Marsalis,
1048:It seems as if nature, in regarding the geologic night behind her, when, in five or six millenniums, she had turned out five or six men, as Homer, Phidias, Menu, and Columbus, was no wise discontented with the result. These samples attested the virtue of the tree. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
1049:And for yourself, may the gods grant you your heart's desire, a husband and a home, and the blessing of a harmonious life. For nothing is greater or finer than this, when a man and woman live together with one hear and mind, bringing joy to their friends and grief to their foes. ~ Homer,
1050:We have to weigh every decision, because a butterfly flapping its wings in Nova Scotia could cause a hurricane in Guam. Or, as Homer Simpson taught us, if you kill a mosquito in dinosaur times, Ned Flanders might become the unquestioned lord and master of the universe. ~ Johnny B Truant,
1051:With the single exception of Homer, there is no eminent writer, not even Sir Walter Scott, whom I can despise so entirely as I despise Shakespeare when I measure my mind against his. . . . It would positively be a relief to me to dig him up and throw stones at him. ~ George Bernard Shaw,
1052:In the great and deep qualities of mind, heart, and soul, there is no change. Homer and Solomon speak to the same nature in man that is reached by Shakespeare and Lincoln. but in the accidents, the surroundings, the change is vast. All things now are mobile--movable. ~ Rutherford B Hayes,
1053:The historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of literature from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order. ~ T S Eliot,
1054:L. 151. Chthizos, yesterday. But either the word must have a more extended signification than is usually given to it, or Homer must here have fallen into an error; for two complete nights and one day, that on which Patroclus met his death, had intervened since the visit of Ajax and ~ Homer,
1055:Mas nunca gostei de lavouras nem de cuidar da casa onde são criados ótimos filhos; de lanças polidas e de setas coisas terríveis, diante das quais outros homens ficam arrepiados, Mas um deus fê-las agradáveis ao meu espírito: homens diferentes se comprazem com diferentes trabalhos. ~ Homer,
1056:Tear forever the garland of Homer, and number the fathers
Of the immortal work, that through all time will survive!
Yet it has but one mother, and bears that mother's own feature,
'Tis thy features it bears,Nature,thy features eterne!

~ Friedrich Schiller, The Iliad
1057:The pure and noble, the graceful and dignified, simplicity of language is nowhere in such perfection as in the Scriptures and Homer. The whole book of Job, with regard both to sublimity of thought and morality, exceeds, beyond all comparison, the most noble parts of Homer. ~ Alexander Pope,
1058:Homer’s language is markedly rhythmical, but it is not difficult or ostentatious. The Odyssey relies on coordinated, not subordinated syntax (“ and then this, and then this, and then this,” rather than “although this, because of that, when this, which was this, on account of that”). ~ Homer,
1059:It was in Alexandria that the circumference of the earth was first measured, the sun fixed at the center of the solar system, the workings of the brain and the pulse illuminated, the foundations of anatomy and physiology established, the definitive editions of Homer produced. ~ Stacy Schiff,
1060:Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood. ~ Homer,
1061:And overpowered by memory
Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely
For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching
Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself,
Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again
And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house. ~ Homer,
1062:Telemachus hurled his arms round his father, and he wept. They both felt deep desire for lamentation, and wailed with cries as shrill as birds, like eagles or vultures, when the hunters have deprived them of fledglings who have not yet learned to fly. That was how bitterly they wept. ~ Homer,
1063:There is truth in stories. There is truth in one of your paintings, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not a fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die.

hehe skl kanami dan ~ Cassandra Clare,
1064:Sprachs, und entsandte den speer; ihn richtete Pallas Athene
Grad am aug in die nas; und die schimmernden zähne durchdrang sie;
Auch die zung and der wurzel entschnitt das gewaltie erz ihm,
Daß die stürmende Spitze am unteren Kinne hinausfuhr. (Ilias; fünfter Gesang V. 290-293) ~ Homer,
1065:Was there anything sexier than a shirtless man with a doofy dog? I pondered that thought while Jake and I muscled our way through another early morning run. Homer, the Goldendoodle something or other, was lazy and grumbly and kept stopping to pretend to pee. I admired his strategy. ~ Lucy Score,
1066:My mother told me Homer Ditto was not my father. Nope. Mom had had a fling with some other guy who was my dad. Some dude who didn't stick around too long who Mom was happy to get rid of. She chose Homer, and Homer chose me, so he lent me his name even though I didn't have his blood. ~ Beth Ditto,
1067:Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends, And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends; White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud: Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears; And instant death on every wave appears. ~ Homer,
1068:[B]ut it is only what happens, when they die, to all mortals. The sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together, and once the spirit has let the white bones, all the rest of the body is made subject to the fire's strong fury, but the soul flitters out like a dream and flies away. ~ Homer,
1069:The genuine remains of Ossian, or those ancient poems which bear his name, though of less fame and extent, are, in many respects,of the same stamp with the Iliad itself. He asserts the dignity of the bard no less than Homer, and in his era, we hear of no other priest than he. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1070:As Carthage went up in flames in 146 BCE, one eyewitness spotted him shedding a tear and heard him quoting from memory an apposite line on the fall of Troy from Homer’s Iliad. He was reflecting that one day the same fate might afflict Rome. Crocodile tears or not, they made their point. ~ Mary Beard,
1071:In the period between Homer and Socrates most philosophers wrote in verse, and Plato, writing in the great age of Athenian tragedy and comedy, composed dramatic dialogue. Aristotle, an exact contemporary of the greatest Greek orator Demosthenes, preferred to write in prose monologue. ~ Anthony Kenny,
1072:Most things take more time than we believe they will. But, now, what about love? Will love take more time than you think?” “I don’t know anything about love.” “That is true,” she agreed. “Yet, every mile you travel on this journey is for this thing you don’t know anything about.” Homer ~ Homer Hickam,
1073:Question me now about all other matters, but do not ask who I am, for fear you may increase in my heart it's burden of sorrow as I think back; I am very full of grief, and I should not sit in the house of somebody else with my lamentation and wailing. It is not good to go on mourning forever. ~ Homer,
1074:The Life of Johnson is assuredly a great, a very great work. Homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets, Shakspeare is not more decidedly the first of dramatists, Demosthenes is not more decidedly the first of orators, than Boswell is the first of biographers. He has no second. ~ Anonymous,
1075:Question me now about all other matters, but do not ask who I am, for fear you may increase in my heart it's burden of sorrow as I think back; I am very full of grief, and I should not sit in the house of somebody else with my lamentation and wailing. It is not good to go on mourning forever. ~ Homer,
1076:The Bible’s claim to truth is not only far more urgent than Homer’s, it is tyrannical—it excludes all other claims. The world of the Scripture stories is not satisfied with claiming to be a historically true reality—it insists that it is the only real world, is destined for autocracy. ~ Erich Auerbach,
1077:The rose Dawn might have found them weeping still had not grey-eyed Athena slowed the night when night was most profound, and held the Dawn under the Ocean of the East. That glossy team, Firebright and Daybright, the Dawn's horses that draw her heavenward for men- Athena stayed their harnessing. ~ Homer,
1078:According to Roman tradition Aemilianus then quoted a line from Homer: “A day will come when sacred Troy shall perish, And Priam and his people shall be slain.” Aemilianus knew that no power endures indefinitely, that all empires must fall, and that there is nothing mortals can do about it. ~ Mike Duncan,
1079:The Greek word epos means simply “word” or “story” or “song.” It is related to a verb meaning “to say” or “to tell,” which is used (in a form with a prefix) in the first line of the poem. The narrator commands the Muse, “Tell me”: enn-epe. An epic poem is, at its root, simply a tale that is told. ~ Homer,
1080:When I was growing up, my parents asked me what I wanted to do, and I said that I wanted to live in Springfield. They were like, "Well, that's not how it works. There is an actor who play Homer, and someone who writes what Homer says." So, I was like, "Well, I want to write what Homer says." ~ Jonah Hill,
1081:And what if one of the gods does wreck me out on the wine-dark sea? I have a heart that is inured to suffering and I shall steel it to endure that too. For in my day I have had many bitter and painful experiences in war and on the stormy seas. So let this new disaster come. It only makes one more. ~ Homer,
1082:For my part I have no joy in tears after dinnertime. There will always be a new dawn tomorrow. Yet I can have no objection to tears for any mortal who dies and goes to his destiny. And this is the only consolation we wretched mortals can give, to cut our hair and let the tears roll down our faces. ~ Homer,
1083:The artist is of no importance. Only what he creates is important, since there is nothing new to be said. Shakespeare, Balzac, Homer have all written about the same things, and if they had lived one thousand or two thousand years longer, the publishers wouldn't have needed anyone since. ~ William Faulkner,
1084:For even they who compose treatises of medicine or natural philosophy in verse are denominated Poets: yet Homer and Empedocles have nothing in common except their metre; the former, therefore, justly merits the name of the Poet; while the other should rather be called a Physiologist than a Poet. ~ Aristotle,
1085:Jefferson, who spent his life collecting books, many of which he donated to the Library of Congress, boasted that America was the only country whose farmers read Homer. “A native of America who cannot read or write,” said John Adams, “is as rare an appearance . . . as a Comet or an Earthquake. ~ Azar Nafisi,
1086:[B]ut it is only what happens, when they die, to all mortals.
The sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together,
and once the spirit has let the white bones, all the rest
of the body is made subject to the fire's strong fury,
but the soul flitters out like a dream and flies away. ~ Homer,
1087:Lighthearted boys and girls
were harvesting the grapes in woven baskets,
while on a resonant harp a boy among them
played a tune of longing, singing low
with delicate voice a summer dirge. The others,
breaking out in song for the joy of it,
kept time together as they skipped along. ~ Homer,
1088:The Life of Johnson is assuredly a great, a very great work. Homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets. Shakespeare is not more decidedly the first of dramatists, Demosthenes is not more decidedly the first of orators, than Boswell is the first of biographers. He has no second. ~ Thomas B Macaulay,
1089:The belly’s a shameless dog, there’s nothing worse.      Always insisting, pressing, it never lets us forget —      destroyed as I am, my heart racked with sadness,      sick with anguish, still it keeps demanding,      ‘Eat, drink!’ It blots out all the memory      of my pain, commanding, ‘Fill me up! ~ Homer,
1090:I basically drew my own family. My father's name is Homer. My mother's name is Margaret. I have a sister Lisa and another sister Maggie, so I drew all of them. I was going to name the main character Matt, but I didn't think it would go over well in a pitch meeting, so I changed the name to Bart. ~ Matt Groening,
1091:It is true that from a behavioral economics perspective we are fallible, easily confused, not that smart, and often irrational. We are more like Homer Simpson than Superman. So from this perspective it is rather depressing. But at the same time there is also a silver lining. There are free lunches! ~ Dan Ariely,
1092:The Life of Johnson is assuredly a great, a very great work. Homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets, Shakspeare is not more decidedly the first of dramatists, Demosthenes is not more decidedly the first of orators, than Boswell is the first of biographers. He has no second. ========== ~ Anonymous,
1093:The popularity of perpetual motion machines is widespread. On an episode of The Simpsons, entitled “The PTA Disbands,” Lisa builds her own perpetual motion machine during a teachers’ strike. This prompts Homer to declare sternly, “Lisa, get in here…in this house we obey the laws of thermodynamics! ~ Michio Kaku,
1094:As inhuman fire sweeps on in fury through the deep angles of a drywood mountain and sets ablaze the depth of the timber and the blustering wind lashes the flame along, so Achilleus swept everywhere with his spear like something more than a mortal harrying them as they died, and the black earth ran blood. ~ Homer,
1095:Dame Nature, as the learned show,Provides each animal its foe;Hounds hunt the hare, the wily foxDevours your geese, the wolf your flocks.Thus envy pleads a natural claim,To persecute the muse’s fame,On poets in all times abusive,From Homer down to Pope inclusive.Swift’sMiscellanies.2. Containing ~ Samuel Johnson,
1096:Culture is like the sum of special knowledge that accumulates in any large united family and is the common property of all its members. When we of the great Culture Family meet, we exchange reminiscences about Grandfather Homer, and that awful old Dr. Johnson, and Aunt Sappho, and poor Johnny Keats. ~ Aldous Huxley,
1097:The most enduring and galvanizing ideas and values of our civilization are embedded in our stories, from those of Homer, […] and Virgil, […] and to Jesus. It seems to be in our genetic makeup to capture our best ideas in stories, to enjoy them, to learn form them, and to pass them on to others (25) ~ Blake Mycoskie,
1098:The spearhead sliced right through to the flesh, And when Diomedes pulled it out, Ares yelled, so loud you would have thought Ten thousand warriors had shouted at once, And the sound reverberated in the guts of Greeks and Trojans, As if Diomedes had struck not a god in armor But a bronze gong nine miles high. ~ Homer,
1099:There is no excuse for cruelty, but--at an orphanage--perhaps we are obliged to withhold love; if you fail to withhold love at an orphanage, you will create an orphanage that no orphan will willingly leave. You will create a Homer Wells--a true orphan, because his only home will always be at St. Cloud's. ~ John Irving,
1100:Why would anyone be interested in my little personal story if we can do without Homer's or Shakespeare's? Someone who truly loves literature is like a person of faith. The believer knows very well that there is nothing at all at the bureau of vital statistics about the Jesus that truly counts for him. ~ Elena Ferrante,
1101:In Homer and Chaucer there is more of the innocence and serenity of youth than in the more modern and moral poets. The Iliad is not Sabbath but morning reading, and men cling to this old song, because they still have moments of unbaptized and uncommitted life, which give them an appetite for more. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1102:The Rorschach test episode for this question tends to be “Homer’s Enemy” from season 8, where new plant employee Frank Grimes is driven mad by the realization that Homer is an incompetent drowning in unearned privilege while Frank, a smarter, more hardworking, more ethical person, struggles and suffers. ~ Alan Sepinwall,
1103:Each night, with meticulous care, Homer opened his satchel and removed a set of manacles. He locked himself to the driver's seat, put the key in his pocket, and closed his eyes.
Ridgeway caught Cora looking. “He says it's the only way he can sleep.”
Homer snored like a rich old man every night. ~ Colson Whitehead,
1104:Whatever the poets pretend, it is plain they give immortality to none but themselves; it is Homer and Virgil we reverence and admire, not Achilles or Aeneas. With historians it is quite the contrary; our thoughts are taken up with the actions, persons, and events we read, and we little regard the authors. ~ Jonathan Swift,
1105:Two diverse gates there are of bodiless dreams, These of sawn ivory, and those of horn. Such dreams as issue where the ivory gleams Fly without fate, and turn our hopes to scorn. But dreams which issue through the burnished horn, What man soe'er beholds them on his bed, These work with virtue and of truth are born. ~ Homer,
1106:and said to him: ‘Eumaios, this is amazing, this dog that lies on the dunghill. The shape of him is splendid, and yet I cannot be certain whether he had the running speed to go with this beauty, or is just one of the kind of table dog that gentlemen 310 keep, and it is only for show that their masters care for them. ~ Homer,
1107:…and they limp and halt, they’re all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side, can’t look you in the eyes, and always bent on duty, trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin. But Ruin is strong and swift—She outstrips them all by far, stealing a march, leaping over the whole wide earth to bring mankind to grief. ~ Homer,
1108:We lose in depth of expression when we go to inferior animals for comparisons with human beauty. Homer calls Juno ox-eyed; and the epithet suits well with the eyes of that goddess, because she may be supposed, with all her beauty, to want a certain humanity. Her large eyes look at you with a royal indifference. ~ Leigh Hunt,
1109:Come, weave us a scheme so I can pay them back! Stand beside me, Athena, fire me with daring, fierce as the day we ripped Troy's glittering crown of towers down. Stand by me - furious now as then, my bright-eyed one - and I would fight three hundred men, great goddess, with you to brace me, comrade-in-arms in battle! ~ Homer,
1110:Wallace Worthington would have reminded Wilbur Larch of someone he might have met at the Channing-Peabodys’, where Dr. Larch went to perform his second abortion – the rich people’s abortion, as Larch thought of it. Wallace Worthington would strike Homer Wells as what a real King of New England should look like. ~ John Irving,
1111:bitch that I am, vicious, scheming-
horror to freeze the heart
oh how I wish
that first day my mother brought me into the light
some black whirlwind had rushed me out to the mountains
or into the surf where the roaring breakers crash and drag
and the waves had swept me off before all this had happened ~ Homer,
1112:Thank god we don't know a lot about William Shakespeare or Moses or Homer or Lautréamont. These are the best guys we got, and their art is powerful because they're mysterious. Once biographical information contaminates your consciousness, it's impossible to erase it and look at someone's work the same way again. ~ Cass McCombs,
1113:The monuments of wit and learning are more durable than the monuments of power, or of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five hundred years, or more, without the loss of a syllable or letter; during which time infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities have been decayed and demolished? ~ Francis Bacon,
1114:Some books will remain famous but will be considered anonymous works, as for us the epic of Gilgamesh; others author's names will still be known, but none of their works will survive, as was the case with Socrates; or perhaps, all the surviving books will be attributed to a single, mysterious author, like Homer. ~ Italo Calvino,
1115:10  As on the peaks of a mountain the south wind scatters the thick mist, no friend to the shepherd, but better than night for the robber, and a man can see before him only so far as a stone cast, so beneath their feet the dust drove up in a stormcloud of men marching, who made their way through the plain in great speed. ~ Homer,
1116:The Greek, the Roman, and the Barbarian, as they met before their respective altars, easily persuaded themselves, that under various names, and with various ceremonies, they adored the same deities. The elegant mythology of Homer gave a beautiful, and almost a regular form, to the polytheism of the ancient world. ~ Edward Gibbon,
1117:This mannerism of what he'd seen of society struck Homer Wells quite forcefully; people, even nice people—because, surely, Wally was nice—would say a host of critical things about someone to whom they would then be perfectly pleasant. At. St. Cloud's, criticism was plainer—and harder, if not impossible, to conceal. ~ John Irving,
1118:It’s easier to put off until tomorrow what needs to be done today, and drown the upcoming months and years in today’s cheap pleasures. As the infamous father of the Simpson clan puts it, immediately prior to downing a jar of mayonnaise and vodka, “That’s a problem for Future Homer. Man, I don’t envy that guy!”66 ~ Jordan Peterson,
1119:If we can learn to embrace the Homer Simpson within us, with all our flaws and inabilities, and take these into account when we design our schools, health plans, stock markets, and everything else in our environment, I am certain that we can create a much better world. This is the real promise of behavioral economics. ~ Dan Ariely,
1120:Come lieta appare la terra a chi nuota
se Poseidone infranta gli abbia la nave
urtata dal vento e dall'onde furiose, e pochi
sfuggirono al mare nuotando e toccaron la riva,
e molta e densa salsedine incrosta la pelle,
e scampati da morte a terra vengon allegri:
similmente apparve alla donna caro il marito. ~ Homer,
1121:For double are the portals of flickering dreams.
One set is made of horn, the other of ivory.
And as for those that come through the sawn ivory,
They deceive, carrying words that will not be fulfilled;
But those that pass on outside through the polished horn
Do fulfill the truth whenever any mortal sees them. ~ Homer,
1122:It’s easier to put off until tomorrow what needs to be done today, and drown the upcoming months and years in today’s cheap pleasures. As the infamous father of the Simpson clan puts it, immediately prior to downing a jar of mayonnaise and vodka, “That’s a problem for Future Homer. Man, I don’t envy that guy!”66 ~ Jordan B Peterson,
1123:Growing up means learning to be responsible for others—and embracing the great joys those responsibilities can bring. Homer taught me that building my life around someone other than myself, making myself responsible for someone else’s life, is one of the most rewarding differences between being a kid and being an adult. ~ Gwen Cooper,
1124:When precision reigns, human law reigns, God's law reigns, the law of the universe reigns---everything reigns that should. The timetable is greater than the Gospels, greater than Homer, greater than all of Kant. The timetable is the most perfect manifestation of the human intellect. Mrs. Helena, I'll pour myself another. ~ Karel apek,
1125:But you know, where did the Brontes go to college? Where did George Eliot go to college? Where did Thomas Paine or Thomas Jefferson or George Washington go? Did George Washington go to college? This idea which we now have that people ought to have these credentials is really ridiculous. Where did Homer go to college? ~ Jamaica Kincaid,
1126:Pherae. He was Ortilochus’ son, whose father was Alpheus, and there they spent the night. [490] Diocles offered them the hospitality he owed to strangers who stayed there as his guests. As soon as rose-fingered early Dawn appeared, they hitched their horses, climbed in the splendid chariot, and set off from the echoing portico ~ Homer,
1127:Why, pray, must the Argives needs fight the Trojans? What made the son of Atreus gather the host and bring them? Was it not for the sake of Helen? Are the sons of Atreus the only men in the world who love their wives? Any man of common right feeling will love and cherish her who is his own, as I this woman, with my whole heart ~ Homer,
1128:Happy indeed the poet of whom, like Orpheus, nothing is known but an immortal name! Happy next, perhaps, the poet of whom, like Homer, nothing is known but the immortal works. The more the merely human part of the poet remains a mystery, the more willing is the reverence given to his divine mission. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton 1st Baron Lytton,
1129:Come, weave us a scheme so I can pay them back!
Stand beside me, Athena, fire me with daring, fierce
as the day we ripped Troy's glittering crown of towers down.
Stand by me - furious now as then, my bright-eyed one -
and I would fight three hundred men, great goddess,
with you to brace me, comrade-in-arms in battle! ~ Homer,
1130:Friend, many and many a dream is mere confusion a cobweb of no consequence at all. Two gates for ghostly dreams there are: One gateway of honest horn, and one of ivory. Issuing by the ivory gate are dreams of glimmering illusion, fantasies, but those that come through solid polished horn may be borne out, if mortals only know them. ~ Homer,
1131:The lord of distant archery, Apollo,
"Lord of earthquake, sound of mind
you could not call me if I strove with you
for the sake of mortals, poor things that they are.
Ephemeral as the flamelike budding leaves,
men flourish on the ripe wheat of the grainland,
then in spiritless age they waste and die. ~ Homer,
1132:At that moment, it occurred to Elsie that it was men who caused most of the problems in the world and that included the Captain, Homer, Malcolm, Karl Marx, and even Buddy Ebsen. It made her angry, that women had not only to bear the children and raise them, but also put up with men who only saw the world through a man’s eyes. ~ Homer Hickam,
1133:Nastes and Amphimachus, the illustrious sons of Nomion - but Nastes, chilldish fool that he was, Went into battle decked out in gold like a girl. But gold could not help him escape a horrible death at the hands of Aeacus' grandson, the swift Achilles, In the bed of the river, and Achilles, fierce ad fiery, Took care of all his gold. ~ Homer,
1134:Across the gulf of centuries, the blind smile of Homer is turned upon our age. Along the echoing corridors of time, the roar of the rockets merges now with the creak of the wind-taut rigging. For somewhere in the world today, still unconscious of his destiny, walks the boy who will be the first Odysseus of the Age of Space. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
1135:I have a confession to make. The love affair of my life has been with the Greek language. I have now reached the age when it has occurred to me that I may have read some books for the last time. I suddenly thought that there are books I cannot bear not to read again before I die. One that stands out a mile is Homer's Iliad. ~ William Golding,
1136:Zeus most glorious and most great, Thundercloud, throned in the heavens! Let not the sun go down and the darkness come, until I cast down headlong the citadel of Priam in flames, and burn his gates with blazing fire, and tear to rags the shirt upon Hectors breast! May many of his men fall about him prone in the dust and bite the earth! ~ Homer,
1137:On his bedside table, between the reading lamp and the telephone, was his battered copy of David Copperfield. Homer didn't have to open the book to know how the story began. "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show," he recited from memory. ~ John Irving,
1138:I had my fun with you yesterday, Homer, with Bruiser and all, but I hope you know I care about you. You’re a good man, maybe too good by a sight, so keep in mind there’s a Depression out where you’re going. We’re mostly walled off from it here in the mountains. People you’ll run across are going to be desperate. Stay on guard.” “I ~ Homer Hickam,
1139:It was in Alexandria that the circumference of the earth was first measured, the sun fixed at the center of the solar system, the workings of the brain and the pulse illuminated, the foundations of anatomy and physiology established, the definitive editions of Homer produced. It was in Alexandria that Euclid had codified geometry. ~ Stacy Schiff,
1140:          Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus’ son Achilleus        and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians,        hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls        of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting 5     of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished ~ Homer,
1141:We see then how far the monuments of wit and learning are more durable than the monuments of power, or of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five hundred years or more, without the loss of a syllable or letter; during which time infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities have been decayed and demolished? ~ Francis Bacon,
1142:and Terror and Rout and relentless Strife stormed too, sister of manslaughtering Ares, Ares’ comrade-in-arms— Strife, only a slight thing when she first rears her head but her head soon hits the sky as she strides across the earth. Now Strife hurled down the leveler Hate amidst both sides, wading into the onslaught, flooding men with pain. ~ Homer,
1143:Then in anger divine Aphrodite addressed her: “Do not provoke me, wicked girl, lest I drop you in anger, and hate you as much as I now terribly love you, and devise painful hostilities, and you are caught in the middle of both, Trojans and Danaans, and are destroyed by an evil fate.” So she spoke; and Helen born of Zeus was frightened; and ~ Homer,
1144:Antagoras the poet was boiling a conger, and Antigonus, coming behind him as he was stirring his skillet, said, "Do you think, Antagoras, that Homer boiled congers when he wrote the deeds of Agamemnon?" Antagoras replied, "Do you think, O king, that Agamemnon, when he did such exploits, was a peeping in his army to see who boiled congers? ~ Plutarch,
1145:Achilles glared at him and answered, "Fool, prate not to me about covenants. There can be no covenants between men and lions, wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other out and out an through. Therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall ~ Homer,
1146:As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning. So one generation of men will grow while another 150  dies. Yet if you wish to learn all this and be certain of my genealogy: there are plenty of men who know it. ~ Homer,
1147:Homer then has the bard—a blind man whose name is Demodocus, which means “popular with the people”—say something that drives far into the center of what Homer means and why Homer matters: “The gods did this and spun the destruction of people / For the sake of the singing of men hereafter.” The song, this poem, this story, is the divine ~ Adam Nicolson,
1148:A man named Hero washed the press cloths; Meany Hyde told Homer that the man had been a kind of hero, once. ‘That’s all I heard. He’s been comin’ here for years, but he was a hero. Just once,’ Meany added, as if there might be more shame attached to the rarity of the man’s heroism than there was glory to be sung for his moment in the sun. ~ John Irving,
1149:And we must beg Homer and the other poets not to be angry if we strike out these and similar passages, not because they are unpoetical, or unattractive to the popular ear, but because the greater the poetical charm in them, the less are they meet for the ears of boys and men who are meant to be free, and who should fear slavery more than death. ~ Plato,
1150:A township where one primitive forest waves above while another primitive forest rots below,--such a town is fitted to raise not only corn and potatoes, but poets and philosophers for the coming ages. In such a soil grew Homer and Confucius and the rest, and out of such a wilderness comes the Reformer eating locusts and wild honey. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1151:A township where one primitive forest waves above, while another primitive forest rots below,—such a town is fitted to raise not only corn and potatoes, but poets and philosophers for the coming ages. In such a soil grew Homer and Confucius and the rest, and out of such a wilderness comes the Reformer eating locusts and wild honey. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1152:I walk out into a nature such as the old prophets and poets Menu, Moses, Homer, Chaucer, walked in. You may name it America, but it is not America. Neither Americus Vespucius, nor Columbus, nor the rest were the discoverers of it. There is a truer account of it in Mythology than in any history of America so called that I have seen. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1153:Amy read Ovid and Virgil and Aristophanes and Homer. She read dry histories and scandalous love poetry (her governesses, who had little Latin and less Greek, naïvely assumed that anything in a classical tongue must be respectable), but mostly she returned again and again to The Odyssey.
Odysseus had fought to go home, and so would Amy. ~ Lauren Willig,
1154:My good friend, if, when we were once out of this fight, we could escape old age and death thenceforward and for ever, I should neither press forward myself nor bid you do so, but death in ten thousand shapes hangs ever over our heads, and no man can elude him; therefore let us go forward and either win glory for ourselves, or yield it to another. ~ Homer,
1155:I walk out into a Nature such as the old prophets and poets, Manu, Moses, Homer, Chaucer, walked in. You may name it America, but it is not America: neither Americus Vespucius, nor Columbus, nor the rest were the discoverers of it. There is a truer account of it in mythology than in any history of America, so called, that I have seen. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1156:Troy has perished, the great city.
Only the red flame now lives there.

The dust is rising, spreading out like a great wing of smoke and all is hidden.
We now are gone, one here, one there.
And Troy is gone forever.

Farewell, dear city.
Farewell, my country, where my children lived.
There below, the Greek ships wait. ~ Homer,
1157:But now, since you have given me accurate proof describing our bed, which no other mortal man beside has ever seen, but only you and I, and there is one serving woman, Aktor's daughter, whom my father gave me when I came here, who used to guard the doors for us in our well-built chamber; 230 so you persuade my heart, though it has been very stubborn. ~ Homer,
1158:Homer Wells, listening to Big Dot Taft, felt like her voice – dulled. Wally was away, Candy was away, and the anatomy of a rabbit was, after Clara, no challenge; the migrants, whom he’d so eagerly anticipated, were just plain hard workers; life was just a job. He had grown up without noticing when? Was there nothing remarkable in the transition? ~ John Irving,
1159:But the tale or narrative set in the past may have its particular time-free value; and the candid reader will not misunderstand me, will not suppose that I intend any preposterous comparison, when I observe that Homer was farther removed in time from Troy than I am from the Napoleonic wars; yet he spoke to the Greeks for 2,000 years and more. ~ Patrick O Brian,
1160:he gave a thousand measures of the wine
for trading, so the troops could barter for it,
some with bronze and some with shining iron,
others with hides and others still with oxen,
some with slaves. They made a copious feast,
and all night long Akhaians with flowing hair
feasted, while the Trojans and their allies
likewise made a feast. ~ Homer,
1161:Odysseus is a migrant, but he is also a political and military leader, a strategist, a poet, a loving husband and father, an adulterer, a homeless person, an athlete, a disabled cripple, a soldier with a traumatic past, a pirate, thief and liar, a fugitive, a colonial invader, a home owner, a sailor, a construction worker, a mass murderer, and a war hero. ~ Homer,
1162:The skin of the coward changes color all the time, he can't get a grip on himself, he can't sit still, he squats and rocks, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his heart racing, pounding inside the fellow's ribs, his teeth chattering. He dreads some grisly death. But the skin of a brave soldier never blanches. He's all control. Tense but no great fear. ~ Homer,
1163:Most people don't think Batman = Bob Kane or Batman = Christopher Nolan. Most people think Batman = Me. The public thinks it owns Batman, which is how mythology works. Who is the author of the Greek myths? It's not exactly Homer. Because we are the ones who have kept the myths alive over centuries by retelling the stories in a myriad of different forms. ~ Ryan Britt,
1164:I am like the people in the Winslow Homer paintings, sharing the same room with them but not really there. I am
like the fish in the aquarium, thinking in a different language, adapting to a life that’s not my natural habitat. I am the people in the other cars, each
with his or her own story, but passing too quickly to be noticed or understood. ~ David Levithan,
1165:Mirstīgiem ļaudīm virs zemes maz dienu ir dzīvībai lemtu.
Ja kādam ir cietsirdīgs raksturs un cietsirdīgs ir bijis pret citiem,
Visi tam novēl tik ļaunu, kamēr tas dzīvo virs zemes,
Bet, ja kam krietna ir sirds, ja arī tā domas ir krietnas,
Teicamo slavu pa pasauli plašo starp mirstīgiem ļaudīm
Svešinieki aiznes un visi to dēvē par cildenu vīru. ~ Homer,
1166:Homer and Candy passed by the empty and brightly lit dispensary; they peeked into Nurse Angela's empty office. Homer knew better than to peek into the delivery room when the light was on. From the dormitory, they could hear Dr. Larch's reading voice. Although Candy held tightly to his hand, Homer was inclined to hurry - in order not to miss the bedtime story. ~ John Irving,
1167:Homer and Candy passed by the empty and brightly lit dispensary; they peeked into Nurse Angela’s empty office. Homer knew better than to peek into the delivery room when the light was on. From the dormitory, they could hear Dr. Larch’s reading voice. Although Candy held tightly to his hand, Homer was inclined to hurry – in order not to miss the bedtime story. ~ John Irving,
1168:Căntã, zeițã, mânia ce-aprinse pe-Ahil Peleianul,
Patima crudã ce-Aheilor mii de amaruri aduse;
Suflete multe viteze trimise pe lumea cealaltã,
Trupul fãcându-le hranã la câini și la feluri de pãsãri
Și împlinitã fu voia lui Zeus, de când Agamemnon,
Craiul nãscut din Atreu, și dumnezeiescul Ahile
S-au dezbinat dupã cearta ce fuse-ntre dânșii iscatã. ~ Homer,
1169:My story—the whole truth—I’m glad to tell it all.
If only the two of us had food and mellow wine
to last us long, here in your shelter now,
for us to sup on, undisturbed,
while others take the work of the world in hand,
I could easily spend all year and never reach the end
of my endless story, all the heartbreaking trials
I struggled through. ~ Homer,
1170:Odes were the compositions in which he took most delight, and it was long before he liked his Epistles and Satires. He told me what he read solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little Epigram; that the study of which he was the most fond was Metaphysicks, but he had not read much, even in that way. ~ Samuel Johnson,
1171:Of all creatures that breathe and walk on the earth there is nothing more helpless than a man is, of all that the earth fosters; for he thinks that he will never suffer misfortune in future days, while the gods grant him courage, and his knees have spring in them. But when the blessed gods bring sad days upon him, against his will he must suffer it with enduring spirit. ~ Homer,
1172:Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them. ~ Homer,
1173:What a new sense of security Homer had felt in that moment of laughter with friends in the enclosed dark of the moving car, and what a sense of freedom the car itself gave to him—its seemingly effortless journeying was a wonder to Homer Wells, for whom the idea of motion (not to mention the sense of change) was accomplished only rarely and only with enormous strife. ~ John Irving,
1174:Until the twentieth century, no one had any idea that Homer might have existed in this strange and immaterial form. It was the assumption that Homer, like other poets, wrote his poetry. Virgil, Dante and Milton were merely following in his footsteps. The only debate was over why these written poems were in places written so badly. Why had he not written them better? ~ Adam Nicolson,
1175:Homer Wells was in Wally’s room, reading David Copperfield and thinking about Heaven – ‘…that sky above me, where, in the mystery to come, I might yet love her with a love unknown on earth, and tell her what the strife had been within me when I loved her here.’ I think I would prefer to love Candy here, ‘on earth,’ Homer Wells was thinking – when Olive interrupted them. ~ John Irving,
1176:The true use of Shakespeare or of Cervantes, of Homer or of Dante, of Chaucer or of Rabelais, is to augment one's own growing inner self. . . . The mind's dialogue with itself is not primarily a social reality. All that the Western Canon can bring one is the proper use of one's own solitude, that solitude whose final form is one's confrontation with one's own mortality. ~ Harold Bloom,
1177:As there are no trustworthy oaths between men and lions, nor wolves and lambs have spirit that can be brought to agreement but forever these hold feelings of hate for each other, 265  so there can be no love between you and me, nor shall there be oaths between us, but one or the other must fall before then to glut with his blood Ares the god who fights under the shield’s guard. ~ Homer,
1178:Every artist is linked to a mistake with which he has a particular intimate relation. There is the mistake of Homer, of Shakespeare — which is perhaps, for both, the fact of not existing. Every art draws its origin from an exceptional fault, every work is the implementation of this original fault, from which come to us a new light and a risky conception of plenitude. ~ Maurice Blanchot,
1179:One ought to know everything, to write. All of us scribblers are monstrously ignorant. If only we weren’t lacking in stamina, what a rich field of ideas and similes we could tap! Books that have been the source of entire literatures, like Homer and Rabelais, contain the sum of all the knowledge of their times. They knew everything, those fellows, and we know nothing. ~ Gustave Flaubert,
1180:Larry Bowa shouted at the pitcher. “Seven runs,” he called to Lerch. “That enough for you?” Lerch and Bob Boone had just become the first pitcher-catcher duo in major-league history to homer before they took the field. (Forty years later, they are still the only ones.) A six-foot-five left-hander with a delivery that was mostly knees and elbows, Lerch uncorked a first-pitch ~ Kevin Cook,
1181:In the 'Odyssey,' Homer enumerates the strangers that even a simple community would "call from abroad"- the "master of some craft, a prophet, a healer of disease, a builder or else a wondrous bard." In contrast to the original peasants and chiefs these are the new inhabitants of the city. Where they were lacking, the country town remained sunk in a somnolent provincialism. ~ Lewis Mumford,
1182:It is generally understood that a modern-day book may honorably be based upon an older one, especially since, as Dr. Johnson observed, no man likes owing anything to his contemporaries. The repeated but irrelevant points of congruence between Joyce's Ulysses and Homer's Odyssey continue to attract (though I shall never understand why) the dazzled admiration of critics. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
1183:Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you in the field where men win fame. But now, as it is, the fates of death await us, thousands poised to strike, and not a man alive can flee them or escape – so in we go for attack! Give our enemy glory or win it for ourselves! ~ Homer,
1184:Now Odysseus was sitting close to the fire, but suddenly turned to the dark side; 390 for presently he thought in his heart that, as she handled him, she might be aware of his scar, and all his story might come out. She came up close and washed her lord, and at once she recognized that scar, which once the boar with his white tusk had inflicted on him, when he went to Parnassos, to ~ Homer,
1185:When I write what publishers call 'fantasy' I am writing in what I think is the most important tradition of fiction: starting with Homer and up through Shakespeare and Milton, the most important themes to tackle are those of the mythopoeic domain, tales of the body and mind seen through a temperament and a cosmos divorced from current reality so what is said can be more clear. ~ Janet Morris,
1186:If you are one of earth’s inhabitants, how blest your father, and your gentle mother, blest all your kin. I know what happiness must send the warm tears to their eyes, each time they see their wondrous child go to the dancing! But one man’s destiny is more than blest—he who prevails, and takes you as his bride. Never have I laid eyes on equal beauty in man or woman. I am hushed indeed. ~ Homer,
1187:The slight, the facile and the merely self-glorifying tend to drop away over the centuries, and what we are left with is the bedrock: Homer and Milton, the Greek tragedian and Shakespeare, Chaucer and Cervantes and Swift, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy and James and Conrad. Time does not make their voices fainter, on the contrary, it reinforces our sense of their truth-telling capacity. ~ Wendy Lesser,
1188:Hence it is evident that the state is a creation of nature, and that man is by nature a political animal. And he who by nature and not by mere accident is without a state, is either a bad man or above humanity; he is like the Tribeless, lawless, hearthless one, whom Homer denounces — the natural outcast is forthwith a lover of war; he may be compared to an isolated piece at draughts. ~ Aristotle,
1189:Running away from home is not a good idea. Unless, of course, you happen to be forty years old, and then your parents will probably shout, "Hurrah!" and change the locks the minute you've stepped off the front stoop. But in the case of Gwendolyn and Homer, ages fifteen and twelve, setting off in the middle of the night would only bring their parents immense heartache and worry. ~ Suzanne Selfors,
1190:No encounter occured that day, and I was glad of it; I took out of my pocket a little Homer I had not opened since leaving Marseilles, reread three lines of the Odyssey, learned them by heart; then, finding sufficient sustenance in their rhythm and reveling in them at leisure, I closed the book and remained, trembling, more alive than I had thought possible, my mind numb with happiness. ~ Andr Gide,
1191:No encounter occured that day, and I was glad of it; I took out of my pocket a little Homer I had not opened since leaving Marseilles, reread three lines of the Odyssey, learned them by heart; then, finding sufficient sustenance in their rhythm and reveling in them at leisure, I closed the book and remained, trembling, more alive than I had thought possible, my mind numb with happiness. ~ Andre Gide,
1192:To me this world is all one continued vision of fancy or imagination, and I feel flattered when I am told so. What is it sets Homer, Virgil and Milton in so high a rank of art? Why is the Bible more entertaining and instructive than any other book? Is it not because they are addressed to the imagination, which is spiritual sensation, and but immediately to the understanding or reason? ~ William Blake,
1193:Never! Never, Marge. I can't live the button-down life like you. I want it all: the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, the creamy middles. Sure, I might offend a few of the bluenoses with my cocky stride and musky odors -- oh, I'll never be the darling of the so-called ‘City Fathers’ who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk about "What's to be done with this Homer Simpson? ~ Matt Groening,
1194:NEVER! Never, Marge! I can't live the button-down life like you. I want it all: the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, the creamy middles! Sure, I might offend a few of the bluenoses with my cocky stride and musky odors -- oh, I'll never be the darling of the so-called 'City Fathers' who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk about "What's to be done with this Homer Simpson?! ~ Matt Groening,
1195:To form correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming parts of a great whole-we must measure them by their relation tot the mass of beings by whom they are surrounded; and, in contemplating the incidents in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down to us, we must rather consider the general bearing of the whole narrative, than the respective probability of its details. ~ Homer,
1196:35      So he spoke and went away, and left Agamemnon        there, believing things in his heart that were not to be accomplished.        For he thought that on that very day he would take Priam’s city;        fool, who knew nothing of all the things Zeus planned to accomplish,        Zeus, who yet was minded to visit tears and sufferings 40   on Trojans and Danaäns alike in the strong encounters. ~ Homer,
1197:Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles. ~ Homer,
1198:There are absolute masterpieces that move us intensely: Mozart's Requiem, Homer's Odyssey, the Sistine Chapel, King Lear. To fully appreciate their brilliance may require a long apprenticeship, but the reward is sheer beauty--and not only this, but the opening of our eyes to a new perspective upon the world. Einstein's jewel, the general theory of relativity, is a masterpiece of this order. ~ Carlo Rovelli,
1199:To form correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming parts of a great whole — we must measure them by their relation to the mass of beings by whom they are surrounded, and, in contemplating the incidents in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down to us, we must rather consider the general bearing of the whole narrative, than the respective probability of its details. ~ Homer,
1200:There are absolute masterpieces that move us intensely: Mozart’s Requiem, Homer’s Odyssey, the Sistine Chapel, King Lear. To fully appreciate their brilliance may require a long apprenticeship, but the reward is sheer beauty—and not only this, but the opening of our eyes to a new perspective upon the world. Einstein’s jewel, the general theory of relativity, is a masterpiece of this order. I ~ Carlo Rovelli,
1201:When Homer composed the Iliad and Odyssey, he was drawing on centuries of history and folklore handed down by oral tradition. When Nicolas Poussin painted The Rape of the Sabine Women, he was re-creating Roman history. When Marcel Proust dipped his petites madeleines into his tea, the taste and aroma set off a flood of memories and emotions from which modern literature has still not recovered. ~ Twyla Tharp,
1202:Human beings live for only a short time, and when a man is harsh himself, and his mind knows harsh thoughts, all men pray that sufferings will befall him hereafter while he lives; and when he is dead all men make fun of him. But when a man is blameless himself, and his thoughts are blameless, the friends he has entertained carry his fame widely to all mankind, and many are they who call him excellent. ~ Homer,
1203:This absence of literary culture is actually a marker of future blindness because it is usually accompanied by a denigration of history, a byproduct of unconditional neomania. Outside of the niche and isolated genre of science fiction, literature is about the past. We do not learn physics or biology from medieval textbooks, but we still read Homer, Plato, or the very modern Shakespeare. ~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb,
1204:Vain is your boast in that you have scratched the sole of my foot... A worthless coward can inflict but a light wound. When I wound a man, though I but graze his skin, it is another matter, for my weapon will lay him low. His wife will tear her cheeks out for grief and his children will be fatherless: there he will rot, reddening the earth with his blood, and vultures, not women, will gather round him. ~ Homer,
1205:And if you have art, then, as I was saying, in falsifying your promise that you would exhibit Homer, you are not dealing fairly with me. But if, as I believe, you have no art, but speak all these beautiful words about Homer unconsciously under his inspiring influence, then I acquit you of dishonesty, and shall only say that you are inspired. Which do you prefer to be thought, dishonest or inspired? ION: ~ Plato,
1206:Now as these two were conversing thus with each other, a dog who was lying there raised his head and ears. This was Argos, patient-hearted Odysseus' dog, whom he himself raised, but got no joy of him, since before that he went to sacred Ilion. In the days before, the young men had taken him 295 out to follow goats of the wild, and deer, and rabbits; but now he had been put aside, with his master absent, ~ Homer,
1207:Then thus incensed, the Paphian queen replies: "Obey the power from whom thy glories rise: Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fly, Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye. Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more The world's aversion, than their love before; Now the bright prize for which mankind engage, Than, the sad victim, of the public rage." At this, the fairest of her sex obey'd, And ~ Homer,
1208:My Crow A crow flew into the tree outside my window. It was not Ted Hughes’s crow, or Galway’s crow. Or Frost’s, Pasternak’s, or Lorca’s crow. Or one of Homer’s crows, stuffed with gore, after the battle. This was just a crow. That never fit in anywhere in its life, or did anything worth mentioning. It sat there on the branch for a few minutes. Then picked up and flew beautifully out of my life. ~ Raymond Carver,
1209:Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle, would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal, so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost 325  nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory. But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us in their thousands, no man can turn aside nor escape them, let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others. ~ Homer,
1210:Helen Keller was to have been present last night but she is ill in bed, and has been ill in bed during several weeks, through overwork in the interest of the blind, the deaf, and the dumb. I need not go into any particulars about Helen Keller. She is fellow to Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon, Homer, Shakspeare, and the rest of the immortals. She will be as famous a thousand years from now as she is to-day. ~ Mark Twain,
1211:All the critics who could not make their reputations by discovering you are hoping to make them by predicting hopefully your approaching impotence, failure and general drying up of natural juices. Not a one will wish you luck or hope that you will keep on writing unless you have political affiliations in which case these will rally around and speak of you and Homer, Balzac, Zola and Link Steffens. ~ Ernest Hemingway,
1212:Wilbur Larch knew that freedom was an orphan’s most dangerous illusion, and when he finally heard from Homer, he scanned the oddly formal letter, which was disappointing in its lack of detail. Regarding illusions, and all the rest, there was simply no evidence.
‘I am learning to swim,’ wrote Homer Wells. (I know! I know! Tell me about it! Thought Wilbur Larch.) ‘I do better at driving,’ Homer added. ~ John Irving,
1213:Homer then has the bard—a blind man whose name is Demodocus, which means “popular with the people”—say something that drives far into the center of what Homer means and why Homer matters: “The gods did this and spun the destruction of people / For the sake of the singing of men hereafter.” The song, this poem, this story, is the divine purpose of the war. The war happened so that the poem could happen. ~ Adam Nicolson,
1214:AH, that Time could touch a form
That could show what Homer's age
Bred to be a hero's wage.
"Were not all her life but storm
Would not painters paint a form
Of such noble lines,' I said,
"Such a delicate high head,
All that sternness amid charm,
All that sweetness amid strength?'
Ah, but peace that comes at length,
Came when Time had touched her form.

~ William Butler Yeats, Peace
1215:For a long time the human instinct to understand was thwarted by facile religious explanations, as in ancient Greece in the time of Homer, where there were gods of the sky and the Earth, the thunderstorm, the oceans and the underworld, fire and time and love and war; where every tree and meadow had its dryad and maenad. ~ Carl Sagan,
1216:Nothing is more despicable than the old age of a passionate man. When the vigour of youth fails him, and his amusements pall with frequent repetition, his occasional rage sinks by decay of strength into peevishness; that peevishness, for want of novelty and variety, becomes habitual; the world falls off from around him, and he is left, as Homer expresses it, to devour his own heart in solitude and contempt. ~ Lyndon B Johnson,
1217:—so as the great Achilles rampaged on, his sharp-hoofed stallions
trampled shields and corpses, axle under his chariot splashed
with blood, blood on the handrails sweeping round the car,
sprays of blood shooting up from the stallions' hoofs
and churning, whirling rims—and the son of Peleus
charioteering on to seize his glory, bloody filth
splattering both strong arms, Achilles' invincible arms— ~ Homer,
1218:Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles. ~ Homer,
1219:These were Homer's fictions; he transfers things human to the gods. I could have wished him to transfer divine things to us." [173] But it would have been more true had he said: "These are, indeed, his fictions, but he attributed divine attributes to sinful men, that crimes might not be accounted crimes, and that whosoever committed any might appear to imitate the celestial gods and not abandoned men. ~ Saint Augustine of Hippo,
1220:Read a verse of Homer and you can walk the walls of Troy alongside Hector; fall into a paragraph by Fitzgerald and your Now entangles with Gatsby’s Now; open a 1953 book by Ray Bradbury and go hunting T. rexes. Ursula Le Guin said: “Story is our only boat for sailing on the river of time,” and she’s right, of course. The shelves of every library in the world brim with time machines. Step into one, and off you go. ~ Anthony Doerr,
1221:It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps, contributed more to the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than any other three writers who could be named, and yet the history of all three has given rise to a boundless ocean of discussion, which has left us little save the option of choosing which theory or theories we will follow. ~ Homer,
1222:Bitumen is junk energy. A joule, or unit of energy, invested in extracting and processing bitumen returns only four to six joules in the form of crude oil. In contrast, conventional oil production in North America returns about 15 joules. Because almost all of the input energy in tar sands production comes from fossil fuels, the process generates significantly more carbon dioxide than conventional oil production. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon, we advance in life these things fall off one by one , and I suspect we are left with only Homer and Virgil, perhaps with only Homer alone. ~ Thomas Jefferson,
1224:Dilly Trammel shot me as I was climbing out.” Jim winced, as if the memory made him get shot all over again. “Trudy and me heard him at the front door—an hour before he should’ve been home, by the way—but then he sneaked around and winged me with his pistola while I was doing my best to save the honor of his wife by not being caught. What kind of man would be so low as to shoot a man looking after the honor of his wife? ~ Homer Hickam,
1225:My agent in Miami told me you were coming. I like to keep up with who’s coming to my island, especially government and railroad men. Typically, I don’t like either one but considering your girl here and your car and the fact that you have an alligator with a rooster on his back, I would guess you might be at least interesting. Name’s Ernest. Some people call me Hem.” After a brief pause he added, “As in Hemingway.” Homer ~ Homer Hickam,
1226:Homer's epic does not tell of such seemingly essential events as the abduction of Helen, for example, nor of the mustering and sailing of the Greek fleet, the first hostilities of the war, the Trojan Horse, and the sacking and burning of Troy.
Instead, the 15,693 lines of Homer's Iliad describe the occurrences of a roughly two-week period in the tenth and final year of what had become a stalemated siege of Troy. ~ Caroline Alexander,
1227:We must have books for recreation and entertainment, as well as books for instruction and for business; the former are agreeable, the latter useful, and the human mind requires both. The cannon law and the codes of Justinian shall have due honor, and reign at the universities; but Homer and Virgil need not therefore be banished. We will cultivate the olive and the vine, but without eradicating the myrtle and the rose. ~ Honore de Balzac,
1228:Since it would take a few minutes to set up, Myron took some unnecessary turns. Two minutes later, Myron took the right on Pleasant Valley Way. Up ahead, he saw Zorra standing by the pizzeria. She wore her ’30s blond wig and smoked a cigarette in a holder and looked just like Veronica Lake after a real bad bender, if Veronica Lake was six feet tall and had a Homer Simpson five o’clock shadow and was really, really ugly. Zorra ~ Harlan Coben,
1229:Mocho was a Spanish word that meant maimed or referred to something that had been lopped off like a stump. To call Homer el mocho was, essentially, to call him "Stumpy" or "the maimed one."
It doesn't sound particularly flattering, but among Spanish speakers the giving of nicknames is tantamount to a declaration of love. Things that would sound insulting outright in English were tokens of deep affection when said in Spanish. ~ Gwen Cooper,
1230:Reading the very best writers—let us say Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Tolstoy—is not going to make us better citizens. Art is perfectly useless, according to the sublime Oscar Wilde, who was right about everything. He also told us that all bad poetry is sincere. Had I the power to do so, I would command that these words be engraved above every gate at every university, so that each student might ponder the splendor of the insight. ~ Harold Bloom,
1231:Most people read Homer in those stupid eighteenth-century translations,” Gautier said calmly. “They make him sound like Marie-Antoinette nibbling biscuits in the Tuileries. But if you read him in Greek you can see he’s a monster, his people are monsters. The whole thing is like a dinner party for barbarians. They eat with their fingers. They put mud in their hair when they are upset. They spend half the time painting themselves. ~ Adam Nicolson,
1232:They made these improving remarks to one another, but Apollo leaned aside to say to Hermes:   “Son of Zeus, beneficent Wayfinder, would you accept a coverlet of chain, if only you lay by Aphrodite’s golden side?”   To this the Wayfinder replied, shining:   “Would I not, though, Apollo of distances! Wrap me in chains three times the weight of these, come goddesses and gods to see the fun; only let me lie beside the pale-golden one!”   The ~ Homer,
1233:Poor wretches, what evil has come on you? Your heads and faces and the knees underneath you are shrouded in night and darkness; a sound of wailing has broken out, your cheeks are covered with tears, and the walls bleed, and the fine supporting pillars. All the forecourt is huddled with ghosts, the yard is full of them as they flock down to the underworld and the darkness. The sun has perished out of the sky, and a foul mist has come over. ~ Homer,
1234:First she said we were to keep clear of the Sirens, who sit and sing most beautifully in a field of flowers; but she said I might hear them myself so long as no one else did. Therefore, take me and bind me to the crosspiece half way up the mast; bind me as I stand upright, with a bond so fast that I cannot possibly break away, and lash the rope's ends to the mast itself. If I beg and pray you to set me free, then bind me more tightly still. ~ Homer,
1235:As the youth came on in front of the others, he got the bronze in his chest beside the right nipple. On through his shoulder it went and he fell to earth in the dust like a sooth black poplar whose branchy top falls in the low grassland of a mighty marsh to the gleaming ax of some chariot-maker, who leaves t to dry by the banks of a river that he may bend him a rim for a beautiful chariot. Even such was the fall of Anthemion's son Simoeisius ~ Homer,
1236:soon you could see his speed and his strength for yourself. Never could any wild animal, in the profound depths of the forest, escape, once he pursued. He was very clever at tracking. But now he is in bad times. His master, far from his country, has perished, and the women are careless, and do not look after him; 320 and serving men, when their masters are no longer about, to make them work, are no longer willing to do their rightful duties. ~ Homer,
1237:The Winkles appeared to greet the morning vigorously. Although Homer had never heard human beings make love, or moose mate, he knew perfectly well that the Winkles were mating. If Dr. Larch had been present, he might have drawn new conclusions concerning the Winkles' inability to produce offspring. He would have concluded that the violent athleticism of their coupling simply destroyed, or scared to death, every available egg and sperm. ~ John Irving,
1238:Aw, everybody knows that game, the day I hit the homer off ole Charlie Root there in Wrigley Field, the day October first, the third game of that thirty-two World Series. But right now I want to settle all arguments. I didn't exactly point to any spot, like the flagpole. Anyway, I didn't mean to, I just sorta waved at the whole fence, but that was foolish enough. All I wanted to do was give that thing a ride... outta the park... anywhere. ~ Babe Ruth,
1239:Hektor, argue me no agreements. I cannot forgive you.
As there are no trustworthy oaths between men and lions,
nor wolves and lambs have spirit that can be brought to agreement
but forever these hold feelings of hate for each other,
so there can be no love between you and me, nor shall there be
oaths between us, but one or the other must fall before then
to glut with his blood Ares the god who fights under the shield's guard. ~ Homer,
1240:Of all the creatures that breathe and creep about on Mother Earth there is none so helpless as man. As long as the gods grant him prosperity and health he imagines he will never suffer misfortune in the future. Yet when the blessed gods bring him troubles he has no choice but to endure them with a patient heart. The reason is that the view we mortals take of this earthly life depends on what Zeus, the Father of gods and men, sends us day by day. ~ Homer,
1241:Close to the Gates a spacious Garden lies, From the Storms defended and inclement Skies; Four Acres was the allotted Space of Ground, Fenc'd with a green Enclosure all around. Tall thriving Trees confessed the fruitful Mold: The reddening Apple ripens here to Gold, Here the blue Fig with luscious Juice overflows, With deeper Red the full Pomegranate glows, The Branch here bends beneath the weighty Pear, And verdant Olives flourish round the Year. ~ Homer,
1242:What you read at Columbia is Plato's Republic and Homer's Iliad. What you learn at Columbia is that reading isn't education. Education is figuring out the hard way that at a school like Columbia, what you read isn't nearly as important as what you wear, how you look, and how much you know about sucking up to professors who really couldn't give a shit about whether some nameless, faceless kid in the 23rd row will work or starve after graduation. ~ Ted Rall,
1243:Surely, by all convention, the Iliad will end here, with the triumphant return of its vindicated hero. But the Iliad is not a conventional epic, and at the very moment of its hero's greatest military triumph, Homer diverts his focus from Achilles to the epic's two most important casualties, Patroklos and Hektor: it is to the consequences of their deaths, especially to the victor, that all action of the Iliad has been inexorably leading. ~ Caroline Alexander,
1244:Nothing feebler than a man does the earth raise up, of all the things which breathe and move on the earth, for he believes that he will never suffer evil in the future, as long as the gods give him success and he flourishes in his strength; but when the blessed gods bring sorrows too to pass, even these he bears, against his will, with steadfast spirit, for the thoughts of earthly men are like the day which the father of gods and men brings upon them. ~ Homer,
1245:to be listening to a poet such as this, who is like the immortals in speech. For I think that there is no more complete fulfillment than when joy takes over an audience in the great hall, and the banqueters are sitting next to each other listening to the poet, and beside them the tables are loaded with bread and meat, and the steward carries the drawn wine around and fills their cups to the brim. This seems to me the most beautiful thing in the world. ~ Homer,
1246:Vice is easy. Failure is easy, too. It’s easier not to shoulder a burden. It’s easier not to think, and not to do, and not to care. It’s easier to put off until tomorrow what needs to be done today, and drown the upcoming months and years in today’s cheap pleasures. As the infamous father of the Simpson clan puts it, immediately prior to downing a jar of mayonnaise and vodka, “That’s a problem for Future Homer. Man, I don’t envy that guy!”66 ~ Jordan Peterson,
1247:Vice is easy. Failure is easy, too. It’s easier not to shoulder a burden. It’s easier not to think, and not to do, and not to care. It’s easier to put off until tomorrow what needs to be done today, and drown the upcoming months and years in today’s cheap pleasures. As the infamous father of the Simpson clan puts it, immediately prior to downing a jar of mayonnaise and vodka, “That’s a problem for Future Homer. Man, I don’t envy that guy!”66 ~ Jordan B Peterson,
1248:he took a cable which had been service on a blue-bowed ship, made one end fast to a high column in the portico, and threw the other over the round-house, high up, so that their feet would not touch the ground. As when long-winged thrushes or doves get entangled in a snare . . . so the women's heads were held fast in a row, with nooses round their necks, to bring them to the most pitiable end. For a little while their feet twitched, but not for very long. ~ Homer,
1249:Se ia o bucată de piatră.
se cioplește cu o daltă de sânge,
se lustruieșite cu ochiul lui Homer,
se răzuiește cu raze.
până cubul iese perfect.
După aceea se sărută de nenumărate ori cubul
cu gura ta,cu gura altora
și mai ales cu gura infantei.
După aceea se ia un ciocan
și brusc se farîmă un colț de-al cubului.
Toți,dar absolut toți zice-vor:
-Ce cub perfect ar fi fost aceasta de n-ar fi avut un colț sfărîmat! ~ Nichita St nescu,
1250:Thus metaphysics and mathematics are, among all the sciences that belong to reason, those in which imagination has the greatest role. I beg pardon of those delicate spirits who are detractors of mathematics for saying this . . . . The imagination in a mathematician who creates makes no less difference than in a poet who invents. . . . Of all the great men of antiquity, Archimedes may be the one who most deserves to be placed beside Homer. ~ Jean le Rond d Alembert,
1251:and others all agreed that Acts was pretty much an historical novel, much like the so-called Apocryphal Acts, and that it was written in the second century. There is virtually no historical value to it, but it is rich in edifying propaganda, its author having extensively rewritten sources that seem to include Homer, Virgil, Euripides, Josephus, and the Septuagint, creating a revisionist version of early Christianity in the golden age of its origin. ~ Robert M Price,
1252:Hamlet is the human soul as it was, as it is, and as it will be. In conceiving this drama, Shakspeare overstepped the limit fixed even for genius. I can understand Homer and Dante, studied by the light of their epoch. I can comprehend that they could do what they did; but how an Englishman of the seventeenth century could foreknow psychosis, a science of recent growth, will be to me, in spite of my study of Hamlet, an everlasting mystery. Having ~ Henryk Sienkiewicz,
1253:So I didn't adopt Homer because he was cute and little and sweet, or because he was helpless and needed me. I adopted him because when you think you see something so fundamentally worthwhile in someone else, you don't look for the reasons - like bad timing or a negative bank balance - that might keep it out of your life. You commit to being strong enough to build your life around it, no matter what. In doing so, you begin to become the thing you admire. ~ Gwen Cooper,
1254:Come, Friend, you too must die. Why moan about it so? Even Patroclus died, a far, far better man than you. And look, you see how handsome and powerful I am? The son of a great man, the mother who gave me life-- A deathless goddess. But even for me, I tell you, Death and the strong force of fate are waiting. There will come a dawn or sunset or high noon When a man will take my life in battle too-- flinging a spear perhaps Or whipping a deadly arrow off his bow. ~ Homer,
1255:The argument of Alcidamas: Everyone honours the wise. Thus the Parians have honoured Archilochus, in spite of his bitter tongue; the Chians Homer, though he was not their countryman; the Mytilenaeans Sappho, though she was a woman; the Lacedaemonians actually made Chilon a member of their senate, though they are the least literary of men; the inhabitants of Lampsacus gave public burial to Anaxagoras, though he was an alien, and honour him even to this day. ~ Aristotle,
1256:...perhaps the intentions of the poet are not that important. What is important nowadays is that although Homer might have thought he was telling that story, he was actually telling something far finer: the story of a man, a hero, who is attacking a city he knows he will never conquer, who knows he will die before it falls; and the still more stirring tale of men defending a city whose doom is already known to them, a city that is already in flames. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
1257:Steer wide;
keep well to seaward; plug your oarsmen's ears
with beeswax kneaded soft; none of the rest
should hear that song.
But if you wish to listen,
let the men tie you in the lugger, hand
and foot, back to the mast, lashed to the mast,
so you may hear those harpies' thrilling voices;
shout as you will, begging to be untied,
your crew must only twist more line around you
and keep their stroke up, till the singers fade. ~ Homer,
1258:A reconciliation between theism and atheism would not be especially difficult if modern scholars gave some attention to allegory, mythology, and legendry. Homer, Hesiod, and Virgil were neither superstitious nor gullible. They perpetuated philosophical fables with profound meanings concealed beneath the folklore of remote times. Each generation can interpret the old beliefs and benefit greatly by such liberal thoughtfulness. ~ Manly P Hall, The Bible, the Story of a Book,
1259:[A historian] will more seriously deplore the loss of the Byzantine libraries, which were destroyed or scattered in the general confusion: one hundred and twenty thousand manuscripts are said to have disappeared; ten volumes might be purchased for a single ducat; and the same ignominious price, too high perhaps for a shelf of theology, included the whole works of Aristotle and Homer, the noblest productions of the sciences and literature of ancient Greece. ~ Edward Gibbon,
1260:Just because a book is a classic doesn't mean it has anything to do with real life. Homer's ILIAD is taught at Columbia precisely because most Columbia professors have never seen combat. Daily life on the Columbia Campus involves no bloodshed, no sacrifice, and no possibility of recognition. Indeed, for most college students daily life is less like Homer's ILIAD and more like THE LAST PICTURE SHOW by Larry McMurtry. But who wants to read a book set in Texas? ~ David Denby,
1261:Bêbedo, que tens a vista do cão e a coragem do veado, nunca a armadura envergaste para ir combater como os outros, nunca às ciladas te atreves, ao lado dos nobres Aquivos, que no imo peito tens medo pois sabes que a Morte te espera. Mais lucrativo, de fato, é correr todo o exército Aquivo, 230 para esbulhar dos seus prêmios a quem se atrever a objetar-te. Devorador do teu povo! Não fosse imprestável, Atrida, toda esta gente, e ficara como último ultraje esse de hoje. ~ Homer,
1262:I was thinking about Homer, and it occurred to me that his two books are the two basic fantasy stories: the War and the Journey. I’m sure this has occurred to others. That’s the thing about Homer. People keep going to him and discovering new things, or old things, or things for the first time, or things all over again, and saying them. This has been going on for two or three millennia. That is an amazingly long time for anything to mean anything to anybody. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
1263:He granted its due share to everything equally, drawing from everything only what was beautiful in it, and in the end left himself only the divine Raphael as a teacher. So a great poetic artist, having read many different writings filled with much delight and majestic beauty, in the end might leave himself, as his daily reading, only Homer's Iliad, having discovered that there is nothing that has not already been reflected in its profound and great perfection. ~ Nikolai Gogol,
1264:And as when the land appears welcome to men who are swimming, after Poseidon has smashed their strong-built ship on the open 235 water, pounding it with the weight of wind and the heavy seas, and only a few escape the gray water landward by swimming, with a thick scurf of salt coated upon them, and gladly they set foot on the shore, escaping the evil; so welcome was her husband to her as she looked upon him, 240 and she could not let him go from the embrace of her white arms. ~ Homer,
1265:Our marvelous new information technologies boost our power and opportunities for political engagement, but they can also disempower us by contributing to extreme political mobilization that sometimes overwhelms our institutions. These institutions were designed for rural societies operation at a tiny fraction of today's speed and with a citizenry vastly less capable that today's. It's unclear how they will change to adapt to the new reality, but change they must. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1266:Anyone who loves books the way Homer does, loves libraries, too. It doesn't matter if the library has fancy red leather chairs and gold-plated shelves that reach to a vaulted ceiling, or if the library has splintery wooden benches and shelves made of old milk crates. it's the scent that sets the book lover at ease. It's better than grandma's perfume, or freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, or even toast. It's a scent derived from paper, mildew, dust, and human endeavors. ~ Suzanne Selfors,
1267:'Yea and I beheld Sisyphus in strong torment, grasping a monstrous stone with both his hands. He was pressing thereat with hands and feet, and trying to roll the stone upward toward the brow of the hill. But oft as he was about to hurl it over the top, the weight would drive him back, so once again to the plain rolled the stone, the shameless thing. And he once more kept heaving and straining, and the sweat the while was pouring down his limbs, and the dust rose upwards from his head. ~ Homer,
1268:The true use of Shakespeare or of Cervantes, of Homer or of Dante, of Chaucer or of Rabelais, is to augment one’s own growing inner self. Reading deeply in the Canon will not make one a better or a worse person, a more useful or more harmful citizen. The mind’s dialogue with itself is not primarily a social reality. All that the Western Canon can bring one is the proper use of one’s own solitude, that solitude whose final form is one’s confrontation with one’s own mortality.   W ~ Harold Bloom,
1269:Come, Friend, you too must die. Why moan about it so?
Even Patroclus died, a far, far better man than you.
And look, you see how handsome and powerful I am?
The son of a great man, the mother who gave me life--
A deathless goddess. But even for me, I tell you,
Death and the strong force of fate are waiting.
There will come a dawn or sunset or high noon
When a man will take my life in battle too--
flinging a spear perhaps
Or whipping a deadly arrow off his bow. ~ Homer,
1270:There is only one condition in which we can imagine managers not needing subordinates, and masters not needing slaves. This condition would be that each instrument could do its own work, at the word of command or by intelligent anticipation, like the statues of Daedalus or the tripods made by Hephaestus, of which Homer relates that "Of their own motion they entered the conclave of Gods on Olympus", as if a shuttle should weave of itself, and a plectrum should do its own harp playing. ~ Aristotle,
1271:Du übertriffst, Achilleus, an Kraft und unrechten Taten
sämtliche Menschen; denn ständig helfen dir Götter persönlich.
Läßt der Kronide dich schon die Troer völlig vernichten,
treib sie aus meinem Bette doch wenigstens, wüte am Lande!
Schon überfüllt sind mir von Toten die lieblichen Wasser,
und ich vermag mich nicht in das leuchtende Meer zu ergießen,
von den Leichen gehemmt; doch mordest du grauenhaft weiter.
Höre denn auf! Entsetzen lähmt mich, Gebieter der Völker! ~ Homer,
1272:See in the mind’s eye
wind blowing chaff on ancient threshing floors
when men with fans toss up the trodden sheaves,
and yellow-haired Demeter, puff by puff,
divides the chaff and grain: how all day long
in bleaching sun strawpiles grow white: so white
grew those Akhaian figures in the dustcloud
churned to the brazen sky by horses’ hooves
as chariots intermingled, as the drivers
turned and turned—carrying their hands high
and forward gallantly despite fatigue. ~ Homer,
1273:Vain labour for me — vain labour almost for the grave English language — to do justice to the sparkling paradoxes that flew from lip to lip. The favourite theme was the superiority of the moderns to the ancients. Condorcet on this head was eloquent, and to some, at least, of his audience, most convincing. That Voltaire was greater than Homer few there were disposed to deny. Keen was the ridicule lavished on the dull pedantry which finds everything ancient necessarily sublime. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton,
1274:Oh, mother! since thy son To early death by destiny is doom'd, I might have hop'd the Thunderer on high, Olympian Jove, with honour would have crown'd My little space; but now disgrace is mine; Since Agamemnon, the wide-ruling King, Hath wrested from me, and still holds, my prize." Weeping, he spoke; his Goddess-mother heard, Beside her aged father where she sat In the deep ocean-caves: ascending quick Through the dark waves, like to a misty cloud, Beside her son she stood; and as he wept, She ~ Homer,
1275:Again, Homer felt the nudge in his ribs, and Mr. Rose said, mildly, ‘You all so uneducated – Homer’s havin’ a little fun with you.’
When the bottle of rum passed from man to man, Mr. Rose just passed it along.
‘Don’t the name Homer mean nothin’ to you?’ Mr. Rose asked the men.
‘I think I heard of it,’ the cook Black Pan said.
Homer was the world’s first storyteller!’ Mr. Rose announced. The nudge at Homer’s ribs was back, and Mr. Rose said, ‘Our Homer knows a good story, too. ~ John Irving,
1276:Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must be daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour and anxiety to acquire. ~ Homer,
1277:As two lions snatch a goat from a herd that is guarded by dogs— they kill it and carry it off, through the thick brushwood, holding it in their jaws high up from the ground: just so did the two men hold the dead Ímbrius high, stripped of his armor. And Ajax the Smaller, angry at the death of Amphímachus, hacked off the head from the soft neck and, swinging his arm back, sent the head whirling over the crowd like a ball, and it fell and rolled in the dirt and came to a stop at the feet of Hector. ~ Homer,
1278:But it is fit that the Past should be dark; though the darkness is not so much a quality of the past as of tradition. It is not adistance of time, but a distance of relation, which makes thus dusky its memorials. What is near to the heart of this generation is fair and bright still. Greece lies outspread fair and sunshiny in floods of light, for there is the sun and daylight in her literature and art. Homer does not allow us to forget that the sun shone,--nor Phidias, nor the Parthenon. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1279: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. ~ Plato,
1280:Vanity ! vanity ! and vanity everywhere, even on the brink of the grave, and among men ready to die for the highest convictions. Vanity ! It must be that it is a characteristic trait, and a peculiar malady of our century. Why was nothing ever heard among the men of former days, of this passion, any more than of the small-pox or the cholera ? Why did Homer and Shakspeare talk of love, of glory, of suffering, while the literature of our age is nothing but an endless narrative of snobs and vanity ? ~ Leo Tolstoy,
1281:Furchtlos entgegnete ihm der Held mit dem nickenden Helmbusch:
»Sohn des Peleus, hoffe mich nicht mit Worten zu schrecken,
so, als sei ich ein Knabe. Auch ich verstehe vortrefflich,
kränkende oder auch frevelhaft prahlende Worte zu sprechen.
Du bist tüchtig, ich weiß es, ich bin dir weit unterlegen.
Aber der Ausgang des Kampfes liegt im Schoße der Götter:
ob ich nicht trotzdem, bin ich auch schwächer, durch Speerwurf dich töte;
denn es besitzt auch mein Speer eine stechende Spitze! ~ Homer,
1282:The day that robs a child of his parents severs him from his own kind; his head is bowed, his cheeks are wet with tears, and he will go about destitute among the friends of his father, plucking one by the cloak and another by the shirt. Some one or other of these may so far pity him as to hold the cup for a moment towards him and let him moisten his lips, but he must not drink enough to wet the roof of his mouth; then one whose parents are alive will drive him from the table with blows and angry words. ~ Homer,
1283:To be completely ignorant of the collective past seems to me to be another state of amnesia; you would be untethered, adrift in time. Which is why all societies have sought some kind of memory bank, whether by way of folklore, story-telling, recitation of the ancestors--from Homer to Genesis. And why the heritage industry does so well today; most people may not be particularly interested in the narrative of the past, in the detail or the discussion, but they are glad to know that it is there. ~ Penelope Lively,
1284:New information technologies-including email, the web, and computerized blast-faxes and phone calls-have fundamentally changed the landscape of political competition in modern democracies. They've done so in three ways: by dramatically boosting the access of individuals and special interests to politically potent information, by making it easier for such people to coordinate their activities and exert political power, and by greatly increasing the pace of events within our political systems. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1285:. . . what humanity most desperately needs is not the creation of new worlds but the recreation in terms of human comprehension of the world we have -- and it is for this reason that arts go on for generation to generation in spite of the fact that Phidias has already carved and Homer has already sung. The creation, we are informed, was accomplished in seven days with Sunday off, but the recreation will never be accomplished because it is always accomplished anew for each generation of living men. ~ Archibald MacLeish,
1286:Once, in his first term, Cartwright had been bold enough to ask him why he was clever, what exercises he did to keep his brain fit. Healey had laughed.

"It's memory, Cartwright, old dear. Memory, the mother of the Muses... at least that's what thingummy said."


"You know, what's his name, Greek poet chap. Wrote the Theogony... what was he called? Begins with an 'H'."


"No, dear. Not Homer, the other one. No, it's gone. Anyway. Memory, that's the key. ~ Stephen Fry,
1287:and lay on the deep pile of dung, from the mules and oxen, which lay abundant before the gates, so that the servants of Odysseus could take it to his great estate, for manuring. 300 There the dog Argos lay in the dung, all covered with dog ticks. Now, as he perceived that Odysseus had come close to him, he wagged his tail, and laid both his ears back; only he now no longer had the strength to move any closer to his master, who, watching him from a distance, without Eumaios 305 noticing, secretly wiped a tear away, ~ Homer,
1288:An idea is only an idea if it causes unease, debate and reflection. By that standard, Thomas Homer-Dixon's concept of an 'ingenuity gap' is truly a new idea. I can think of no other new concept that so fully condenses all of the challenges we face as a human civilization than the 'ingenuity gap'. Homer-Dixon has found a way to unite all of our concerns about economics, war, population growth, complexity, etc. under a single heading. He is one of an elite group of academics who can write for a mass audience. ~ Robert D Kaplan,
1289:Dear brother, it was your death I sealed in the oaths of friendship, setting you alone before the Achaians to fight with the Trojans. So, the Trojans have struck you down and trampled on the oaths sworn. Still the oaths and the blood of the lambs shall not be called vain, the unmixed wine poured and the right hands we trusted. 160  If the Olympian at once has not finished this matter, late will he bring it to pass, and they must pay a great penalty, with their own heads, and with their women, and with their children. ~ Homer,
1290:So, why should Christian children be subject ed t o Homer? Or, why Homer rat her t han t he Gilgamesh Epic or t he Kalevala? T he sole reason seems t o be t hat Homer is part of "West ern Civilization." But we are entitled t o ask: Who cares? Why keep t his baggage? Let college st udent s st udying t he ancient world read Homer as a curiosit y, but don't use him in t he att empt t o f orm f undament al mind of t he Christian f ut ure. T he great dramas of t he lat er Greeks reflect a f urt her move int o t he mind ~ Anonymous,
1291:But a man's life breath cannot come back again-no raiders in force, no trading brings it back, once it slips through a man's clenched teeth.

Mother tells me, the immortal goddess Thetis with her glistening feet, that two fates bear me on to the day of death. If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy, my journey home is gone, but my glory never dies. If I voyage back to the fatherland I love, my pride, my glory dies...true, but the life that's left me will be long, the stroke of death will not come on me quickly. ~ Homer,
1292:Now from his breast into the eyes the ache of longing mounted, and he wept at last, his dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms, longed for as the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer spent in rough water where his ship went down under Poseidon's blows, gale winds and tons of sea. Few men can keep alive through a big serf to crawl, clotted with brine, on kindly beaches in joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind: and so she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband, her white arms round him pressed as though forever. ~ Homer,
1293:All the same, we ought to point out that if the kinds of poetry and representation which are designed merely to give pleasure can come up with a rational argument for their inclusion in a well-governed community, we'd be delighted -- short of compromising the truth as we see it, which wouldn't be right -- to bring them back from exile: after all, we know from our own experience all about their spell. I mean haven't you ever fallen under the spell of poetry, Glaucon, especially when the spectacle is provided by Homer? ~ Plato,
1294:As Elsie showered, she realized she had learned something. She was attracted to the kind of man Denver was. He drove fast and was dangerous and handsome but, she reflected, he was also, in his own way, needy. If he wasn’t showing off to a pretty girl, it was Elsie’s guess he was fairly miserable. Elsie was happy she didn’t have to put up with such a man all the way to Florida. Homer, despite all his many flaws—mostly, she had to concede, having to do with his good character—well, he would do just fine for that chore. ~ Homer Hickam,
1295:They were in the likeness of two wild boars who in the mountains await a rabble of men and dogs advancing upon them and as they go tearing slantwise and rip the timber about them to pieces at the stock, the grinding scream of their teeth sounds 150  high, until some man hits them with his throw and takes the life from them; such was the grinding scream from the bright bronze covering their chests struck hard on by spears, for they fought a very strong battle in the confidence of their own strength and the people above them. ~ Homer,
1296:But Calypso has offered to make Odysseus “immortal, ageless, all his days” (ref) and invited him to live with her in a paradisal environment so enchanting that . . . even a deathless god who came upon that place would gaze in wonder, heart entranced with pleasure (ref)  —a place before which Hermes, messenger of Zeus, “stood . . . spellbound” (ref). All this Odysseus rejects, though he knows that the alternative is to entrust himself again, this time alone and on a makeshift craft, to that sea about which he has no illusions. ~ Homer,
1297:Tad Homer-Dixon is a rare kind of public intellectual, who combines real expertise with a commitment to communicate to the widest possible readership. In The Ingenuity Gap he wants us all to wake-up to the fearful possibility that our blithe trust in science and technology may be misplaced. Human ingenuity may not be capable of coping with two emerging crises of this century and the next: population growth and environmental despoliation. Read Homer Dixon's wake-up call and you will see the future very differently. ~ Michael Ignatieff,
1298:Cand citim Homer, cand citim descrierea luptelor dintre ahei si troieni, agonia si moartea, ce exaltare, ce bucurie inaltatoare se naste in sufletul nostru care prinde aripi; marele poet a prefacut macelul intr-un cantec inimitabil! Si ni se pare ca victimele nu sunt oameni, ci nori cu chip omenesc, umbre ce nu cunosc durerea, confruntandu-se in vazduhul fara de moarte, ca intr-un joc; sangele ce curge nu este altceva decat purpura soarelui care apune. Poezia nu deosebeste omul de umbra sa, nici moartea de nemurire. ~ Nikos Kazantzakis,
1299:I sit on the bench in front of Bell's Market and think about Homer Buckland and about the beautiful girl who leaned over to open his door when he come down that path with the full red gasoline can in his right hand - she looked like a girl of no more than sixteen, a girl on her learner's permit, and her beauty was terrible, but I believe it would no longer kill the man it turned itself on; for a moment her eyes lit on me, I was not killed, although a part of me died at her feet." (from the short story Mrs. Todd's Shortcut) ~ Stephen King,
1300:Here is the mistake of the cut-and-dried man of culture. He goes about with the secret of having learned to appreciate the "grandstyle." He has lived in Homer till he can recall the roll of that many-sounding sea. He has pored over the lofty and pictorial thought of Plato till he begins to pique himself upon its grandeur. His fancy has been fed on the quaint old-world genius of Herodotus, his judgment on the melancholy wisdom of Tacitus and the complacent cynicism of Gibbon--and of all this he is conscious and proud. ~ Richard Holt Hutton,
1301:We possess the Canon because we are mortal and also rather belated. There is only so much time, and time must have a stop, while there is more to read than there ever was before. From the Yahwist and Homer to Freud, Kafka, and Beckett is a journey of nearly three millennia. Since that voyage goes past harbors as infinite as Dante, Chaucer, Montaigne, Shakespeare, and Tolstoy, all of whom amply compensate a lifetime's rereadings, we are in the pragmatic dilemma of excluding something else each time we read or reread extensively. ~ Harold Bloom,
1302:Penetrate, at certain hours, past the livid face of a human being who is engaged in reflection, and look behind, gaze into that soul, gaze into that obscurity. There, beneath that external silence, battles of giants, like those recorded in Homer, are in progress; skirmishes of dragons and hydras and swarms of phantoms, as in Milton; visionary circles, as in Dante. What a solemn thing is this infinity which every man bears within him, and which he measures with despair against the caprices of his brain and the actions of his life! ~ Victor Hugo,
1303:For they imagined as they wished--that it was a wild shot,/ an unintended killing--fools, not to comprehend/ they were already in the grip of death./ But glaring under his brows Odysseus answered: 'You yellow dogs, you thought I'd never make it/ home from the land of Troy. You took my house to plunder,/ twisted my maids to serve your beds. You dared/ bid for my wife while I was still alive./ Contempt was all you had for the gods who rule wide heaven,/ contempt for what men say of you hereafter./ Your last hour has come. You die in blood. ~ Homer,
1304:So, the gods don't hand out all their gifts at once, not build and brains and flowing speech to all. One man may fail to impress us with his looks but a god can crown his words with beauty, charm, and men look on with delight when he speaks out. Never faltering, filled with winning self-control, he shines forth at assembly grounds and people gaze at him like a god when he walks through the streets. Another man may look like a deathless one on high but there's not a bit of grace to crown his words. Just like you, my fine, handsome friend. ~ Homer,
1305:On June 20, 1951, less than four weeks after the Homer case broke, Hoover escalated the FBI’s Sex Deviates Program. The FBI alerted universities and state and local police to the subversive threat, seeking to drive homosexuals from every institution of government, higher learning, and law enforcement in the nation. The FBI’s files on American homosexuals grew to 300,000 pages over the next twenty-five years before they were destroyed. It took six decades, until 2011, before homosexuals could openly serve in the United States military. ~ Tim Weiner,
1306:For they imagined as they wished--that it was a wild shot,/ an unintended killing--fools, not to comprehend/ they were already in the grip of death./ But glaring under his brows Odysseus answered:

'You yellow dogs, you thought I'd never make it/ home from the land of Troy. You took my house to plunder,/ twisted my maids to serve your beds. You dared/ bid for my wife while I was still alive./ Contempt was all you had for the gods who rule wide heaven,/ contempt for what men say of you hereafter./ Your last hour has come. You die in blood. ~ Homer,
1307:What does the name of an author on the jacket matter? Let us move forward in thought to three thousand years from now. Who knows which books from our period will be saved, and who knows which authors’ names will be remembered? Some books will remain famous but will be considered anonymous works, as for us the epic of Gilgamesh; other authors’ names will still be well know, but none of their works will survive, as was the case with Socrates; or perhaps all the surviving books will be attributed to a single, mysterious author, like Homer. ~ Italo Calvino,
1308:Why does Homer give us descriptions so much more vivid than all the poets. Because he sees so much more around him. We speak about poetry so abstractly because we all tend to be poor poets. The aesthetic phenomenon is fundamentally simple: if someone
simply possesses the capacity to see a living game going on continually and to live all the time
surrounded by hordes of ghosts, then the man is a poet; if someone simply feels the urge to change himself and to speak out from other bodies and souls, then that person is a dramatist. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
1309:But when Odysseus rose, that man of many devices, fixing his down-cast eyes on the ground he stood: nor his scepter swayed, either this way or that like a practiced speaker, but held it motionless, even as a man unskilled in the arts of persuasion. One would declare him mute with passion or wanting in judgment. But when he spoke, when his powerful voice went forth from his bosom, issuing words which fell like flakes of snow in winter, surely no mortal man might hope to compete with Odysseus. Lost in wonder we sat, but not, as before, at his manner. ~ Homer,
1310:But as he stood watching Carthage burn, Scipio reflected on the fate of this once great power. Overcome with emotion, he cried. His friend and mentor Polybius approached and asked why Scipio was crying.

"A glorious moment, Polybiius; but I have a dread foreboding that some day the same doom will be pronounced on my own country." Scipio then quoted a line from Homer: "A day will come when sacred Troy shall perish, And Priam and his people shall be slain."

Scipio knew that no power endures indefinitely, that all empires must fall. ~ Mike Duncan,
1311:The two forces met with a fearful din of spears and bossed shields, clashing in a fierce and furious melees of bronze-breasted fighters. And there the screams of the dying were mingled with cries of triumph s blood flowed over the earth. As when two winter torrents flow down from great mountain springs to mingle their turbulent floods; where the two streams meet and thunder on down a deep gorge, and the shepherd far off in the mountains hears the roar, so now as the two armies clashed in the fury of battle a terrible roar of toil and shouting arose. ~ Homer,
1312:Now from his breast into the eyes the ache
of longing mounted, and he wept at last,
his dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms,
longed for as the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer
spent in rough water where his ship went down
under Poseidon's blows, gale winds and tons of sea.
Few men can keep alive through a big serf
to crawl, clotted with brine, on kindly beaches
in joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind:
and so she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband,
her white arms round him pressed as though forever. ~ Homer,
1313:I am encouraged as I look at some of those who have listened to their "different drum": Einstein was hopeless at school math and commented wryly on his inadequacy in human relations. Winston Churchill was an abysmal failure in his early school years. Byron, that revolutionary student, had to compensate for a club foot; Demosthenes for a stutter; and Homer was blind. Socrates couldn't manage his wife, and infuriated his countrymen. And what about Jesus, if we need an ultimate example of failure with one's peers? Or an ultimate example of love? ~ Madeleine L Engle,
1314:The only real enemy humans have is death. Every other enemy like a kid who slags you off at school or a cop who pulls you over you think they're enemies but they're not really. They're just I don't know irritations. But death that's the serious one because you know he'll win eventually. And that makes you like you've got to try to beat him. The bigger the challenge the harder you try. That's true of anything. In a way our enemies aren't these soldiers themselves our enemy is death and the soldiers are just his little local representatives." -Homer ~ John Marsden,
1315:So he spoke, and her knees and the heart within her went slack as she recognized the clear proofs that Odysseus had given; but then she burst into tears and ran straight to him, throwing her arms around the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, saying: ‘Do not be angry with me, Odysseus, since, beyond other men, 210 you have the most understanding. The gods granted us misery, in jealously over the thought that we two, always together, should enjoy our youth, and then come to the threshold of old age. Then do not now be angry with me nor blame me, because ~ Homer,
1316:But you, Achilles,/ There is not a man in the world more blest than you--/ There never has been, never will be one./ Time was, when you were alive, we Argives/ honored you as a god, and now down here, I see/ You Lord it over the dead in all your power./ So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles.’ I reassured the ghost, but he broke out protesting,/ ‘No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus!/ By god, I’d rather slave on earth for another man--/ Some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive—than rule down here over all the breathless dead. ~ Homer,
1317:Examining the Homeric epics from the perspective of when and by whom they were composed, Vico refutes generations of interpreters who had assumed that because Homer was revered for his great epics he must also have been a wise sage like Plato, Socrates, or Bacon. Instead Vico demonstrates that in its wildness and willfulness Homer’s mind was poetic, and his poetry barbaric, not wise or philosophic, that is, full of illogical fantasy, gods who were anything but godlike, and men like Achilles and Patrocles, who were most uncourtly and extremely petulant. ~ Erich Auerbach,
1318:Indoors, the evening gets you’d say festive, with Maxine riding Horst for the better part of an hour, not that it’s anybody’s business of course, and coming a number of times, at last fiercely in sync with Horst, not long after which, owing to some extrasensory cue from the television, whose mute feature has been engaged, they surface from their post-orgy daze in time to witness Derek Jeter’s clutch tenth-inning homer and another trademark Yankee win. “Yes!” Horst beginning to scream in delighted disbelief. “And it better be Keanu Reeves in the biopic! ~ Thomas Pynchon,
1319:Hail, Columbia! Home of the six inch cockroach and the stadium-sized lecture hall. A reservation for rich white people guarded by poor brown people in a sea of urban decay. Where nobody on the faculty has ever spent ten minutes in the freshman dorm, but everybody talks about humanism and compassion. They teach you that military people are scum, trash, the lowest of the low -- and then they assign Homer's ILIAD just to develop your sense of irony. Where else can you see three suicides a month dismissed as "slightly above average, but better than Smith or Brown? ~ Ted Rall, one of his Irish Times columns written under the name of Myles na gCopaleen, [Flann] O’Brien offered a service to readers who owned books but did not open them. For a fee, books would be handled, with passages underlined or spines damaged or words such as ‘Rubbish’ or ‘Yes, but cf Homer, Od. iii, 151’ or ‘I remember poor Joyce saying the same thing to me’ written in the margins. Or inscriptions on the title page such as ‘From your devoted friend and follower, K. Marx.’"

--"Flann O'Brien's Lies," Colm Tóibin, London Review of Books, Jan. 5, 2012 ~ Colm T ib n,
1321:But you, Achilles,/ There is not a man in the world more blest than you--/ There never has been, never will be one./ Time was, when you were alive, we Argives/ honored you as a god, and now down here, I see/ You Lord it over the dead in all your power./ So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles.’

I reassured the ghost, but he broke out protesting,/ ‘No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus!/ By god, I’d rather slave on earth for another man--/ Some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive—than rule down here over all the breathless dead. ~ Homer,
1322:Cresceva, dentro al cortile, un tronco d’olivo dalle foglie sottili, rigoglioso, fiorente, largo come una colonna. Intorno a questo io eressi il talamo, che feci con pietre fittamente connesse e ricoprii con il tetto ben fatto; e la porta applicai, solida e salda. Poi recisi la chioma dell’olivo dalle foglie sottili, il tronco sgrossai dalla radice, lo piallai tutt’intorno con l’ascia di bronzo, abilmente, lo livellai a filo di squadra e ricavai una base che lavorai tutta a traforo. Cominciando da questa levigavo anche il letto, ornandolo d’oro, d’argento, d’avorio. ~ Homer,
1323:Physical objects are conceptually imported into the situation as convenient intermediaries not by definition in terms of experience, but simply as irreducible posits comparable, epistemologically, to the gods of Homer . . . For my part I do, qua lay physicist, believe in physical objects and not in Homer's gods; and I consider it a scientific error to believe otherwise. But in point of epistemological footing, the physical objects and the gods differ only in degree and not in kind. Both sorts of entities enter our conceptions only as cultural posits. ~ Willard Van Orman Quine,
1324:Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne, Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific, and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise, Silent, upon a peak in Darien. ~ John Keats,
1325:It will be hard James but you come from sturdy peasant stock men who picked cotton and dammed rivers and built railroads and in the teeth of the most terrifying odds achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity You come from a long line of great poets some of the greatest poets since Homer. One of them said "The very time I thought I was lost My dungeon shook and my chains fell off." You know and I know that the country is celebrating one hundred years of freedom one hundred years too soon. We cannot be free until they are free. God bless you James and Godspeed. ~ James Baldwin,
1326:He felt the pregnant woman squeeze his hand so hard that it hurt. The word ‘Mother!’ was strangely on his lips when Nurse Angela finally got the door open and seized Homer Wells in her arms.
‘Oh, oh!’ she cried. ‘Oh Homer – my Homer, our Homer! I knew you’d be back!’
And because the pregnant woman’s hand still firmly held Homer’s hand – neither one of them felt able to let go – Nurse Angela turned and included the woman in her embrace. It seemed to Nurse Angela that this pregnant woman was just another orphan who belonged (like Homer Wells) exactly where she was. ~ John Irving,
1327:It will be hard James but you come from sturdy peasant stock men who picked cotton and dammed rivers and built railroads and in the teeth of the most terrifying odds achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity You come from a long line of great poets some of the greatest poets since Homer. One of them said "The very time I thought I was lost My dungeon shook and my chains fell off." You know and I know that the country is celebrating one hundred years of freedom one hundred years too soon. We cannot be free until they are free. God bless you James and Godspeed. ~ James A Baldwin,
1328:I liked to call myself a poet and had affected a habit of reading classical texts (in translation, of course – I was a lazy student). I would ride the Greyhound for thirty-six hours down from the Midwest to Leechfield, then spend days dressed in black in the scalding heat of my mother’s front porch reading Homer (or Ovid or Virgil) and waiting for someone to ask me what I was reading. No one ever did. People asked me what I was drinking, how much I weighed, where I was living, and if I had married yet, but no one gave me a chance to deliver my lecture on Great Literature. ~ Mary Karr,
1329:stood for a while and looked about him, but when he had looked long enough he crossed the threshold and went within the precincts of the house. There he found all the chief people among the Phaeacians making their drink offerings to Mercury, which they always did the last thing before going away for the night. 61 He went straight through the court, still hidden by the cloak of darkness in which Minerva had enveloped him, till he reached Arete and King Alcinous; then he laid his hands upon the knees of the queen, and at that moment the miraculous darkness fell away from him and ~ Homer,
1330:The gods weave misfortunes for men, so that the generations to come will have something to sing about.” Mallarmé repeats, less beautifully, what Homer said; “tout aboutit en un livre,” everything ends up in a book. The Greeks speak of generations that will sing; Mallarmé speaks of an object, of a thing among things, a book. But the idea is the same; the idea that we are made for art, we are made for memory, we are made for poetry, or perhaps we are made for oblivion. But something remains, and that something is history or poetry, which are not essentially different. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
1331:These nights are endless, and a man can sleep through them, or he can enjoy listening to stories, and you have no need to go to bed before it is time. Too much sleep is only a bore. And of the others, any one whose heart and spirit urge him can go outside and sleep, and then, when the dawn shows, breakfast first, then go out to tend the swine of our master. But we two, sitting here in the shelter, eating and drinking, shall entertain each other remembering and retelling our sad sorrows. For afterwards a man who has suffered much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows. ~ Homer,
1332:Every writer on the Orient (and this is true even of Homer) assumes some Oriental precedent, some previous knowledge of the Orient, to which he refers and on which he relies. Additionally, each work on the Orient affiliates itself with other works, with audiences, with institutions, with the Orient itself. The ensemble of relationships between works, audiences, and some particular aspects of the Orient therefore constitutes an analyzable formation[…]whose presence in time, in discourse, in institutions (schools, libraries, foreign services) gives it strength and authority. ~ Edward W Said,
1333:At the end of the fifteenth century, the poet Thomas Hoccleve declared in The Regiment of Princes, “Allas, wher ys this worldes stabylnesse?”—a lament that appears equally in Homer or in Jeremiah in the Old Testament. Through most of human history, people have accepted the fact that their lives will shift suddenly due to wars, famines, or other disasters, and that they will have to improvise in order to survive. Our parents and grandparents were filled with anxiety in 1940, having endured the wreckage of the Great Depression and facing the looming prospect of a world war. ~ Richard Sennett,
1334:I thank God I met Homer again that summer. He was suddenly alongside me, a companion and an ally, the most truly reliable voice I had ever known. It was like discovering poetry itself, or the dead speaking. As I read and reread the Odyssey in translation, I suddenly felt that here was the unaffected truth, here was someone speaking about fate and the human condition in ways that other people only seem to approach obliquely; and that directness, that sense of nothing between me and the source, is what gripped me. I felt like asking, “Why has no one told me about this before? ~ Adam Nicolson,
1335:So, you met Steinbeck,” mused Hemingway over his port after the women had left. “It is a fateful peculiarity that you might meet him and me at virtually the same time. To what do you attribute that, Homer?” “I don’t know, sir,” Homer answered. “Just the way it worked out, I guess.” “Don’t you believe it. There are no coincidences in life. Although the big God of the Hebrews might be the greatest of them, I believe there are small gods who watch out and sometimes determine our fate. I believe they also like to have a little fun with us from time to time. Kismet. You heard of it?” “I ~ Homer Hickam,
1336:Fiat ars – pereat mundus”, says Fascism, and, as Marinetti admits, expects war to supply the artistic gratification of a sense perception that has been changed by technology. This is evidently the consummation of “l’art pour l’art.” Mankind, which in Homer’s time was an object of contemplation for the Olympian gods, now is one for itself. Its self-alienation has reached such a degree that it can experience its own destruction as an aesthetic pleasure of the first order. This is the situation of politics which Fascism is rendering aesthetic. Communism responds by politicizing art. ~ Walter Benjamin,
1337:Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.

Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully's open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?

You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,
What makes me shudder so?
I shudder and I sigh to think
That even Cicero
And many-minded Homer were
Mad as the mist and snow.

~ William Butler Yeats, Mad As The Mist And Snow
1338:Igual que bajo la tormenta la oscura tierra se empapa entera el día otoñal en que con insuperable violencia vierte el agua Zeus para manifestar su ira, rencoroso contra los hombres que en la plaza dictan sentencias torcidas abusando de su poder y destierran la justicia sin ningún miramiento por los dioses; los cauces de todos sus ríos se desbordan, los torrentes hienden entonces barrancos en muchas colinas y en la ondulante costa se precipitan con grandes clamores desde la cima de los montes, anegando las labores de las gentes;
tan grandes eran los clamores de las yeguas troyanas al correr. ~ Homer,
1339:There are other, savager, and more primeval aspects of Nature than our poets have sung. It is only white man's poetry. Homer and Ossian even can never revive in London or Boston. And yet behold how these cities are refreshed by the mere tradition, or the imperfectly transmitted fragance and flavor of these wild fruits. If we could listen but for an instant to the chaunt of the Indian muse, we should understand why he will not exchange his savageness for civilization. Nations are not whimsical. Steel and blankets are strong temptations; but the Indian does well to continue Indian. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1340:For Homer Wells, it was different. He did not imagine leaving St. Cloud's. The Princes of Maine that Homer saw, the Kings of New England that he imagined — they reigned at the court of St. Cloud's, they traveled nowhere; they didn't get to go to sea; they never even saw the ocean. But somehow, even to Homer Wells, Dr. Larch's benediction was uplifting, full of hope. These Princes of Maine, these Kings of New England, these orphans of St. Cloud's — whoever they were, they were the heroes of their own lives. That much Homer could see in the darkness; that much Dr. Larch, like a father, gave him. ~ John Irving,
1341:not warrant or represent at any time that the contents within are accurate due to the rapidly changing nature of the Internet. While all attempts have been made to verify information provided in this publication, the Author and Publisher assume no responsibility for errors, omissions, or contrary interpretation of the subject matter herein. Any perceived slights of specific persons, people, or organizations are unintentional. In practical advice books, like anything else in life, there are no guarantees of results. Readers are cautioned to rely on their own judgment about their individual circumstances ~ Homer,
1342:She began to whisper something in my ear. It’s the strangest thing about poetry—you can tell it’s poetry, even if you don’t speak the language. You can hear Homer’s Greek without understanding a word, and you still know it’s poetry. I’ve heard Polish poetry, and Inuit poetry, and I knew what it was without knowing. Her whisper was like that. I didn’t know the language, but her words washed through me, perfect, and in my mind’s eye I saw towers of glass and diamond; and people with eyes of the palest green; and, unstoppable, beneath every syllable, I could feel the relentless advance of the ocean. ~ Neil Gaiman,
1343:For suddenly, just as the men tried to cross, a fatal bird-sign flashed before their eyes, an eagle flying high on the left across their front and clutching a monstrous bloody serpent in both talons, still alive, still struggling-it had not lost its fight, writhing back to strike it fanged the chest of its captor right beside the throat-and agonized by the bites the eagle flung it away to earth, dashed it down amidst the milling fighters, loosed a shriek and the bird veered off along the gusting wind. The Trojans shuddered to see the serpent glistening, wriggling at their feet, a sign from storming Zeus. ~ Homer,
1344:Once I began developing an appreciation for fantasy and imaginative literature like Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey, C. S. Lewis’s series The Chronicles of Narnia, and of course J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, I discovered that my appreciation for Revelation has grown and the weight of its images have pressed heavier on my soul. As I have read imaginative literature, my imagination has developed. As my imagination has developed, I have found myself reading Revelation more patiently, allowing the images to emerge in my mind until I feel the full spiritual shock of their intended voltage. ~ Tony Reinke,
1345:Sing, O Muse, of the man of many devices, who wandered full many ways after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many were the men whose cities he saw and whose mind he learned, aye, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the sea, seeking to win his own life and the return of his comrades. Yet even so he saved not his comrades, though he desired it sore, for through their own blind folly they perished—fools, who devoured the kine of Helios Hyperion; but he took from them the day of their returning. Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where thou wilt, tell thou even unto us. ~ Homer,
1346:These nights are endless, and a man can sleep through them,
or he can enjoy listening to stories, and you have no need
to go to bed before it is time. Too much sleep is only
a bore. And of the others, any one whose heart and spirit
urge him can go outside and sleep, and then, when the dawn shows,
breakfast first, then go out to tend the swine of our master.
But we two, sitting here in the shelter, eating and drinking,
shall entertain each other remembering and retelling
our sad sorrows. For afterwards a man who has suffered
much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows. ~ Homer,
1347:Spengler's book is rich in these "morphological relationships" between dissimilar activities that prove the coherent spirit of each culture and epoch. So there was a common spirit int eh ancient Greek polis and in Euclidean geometry, as there was also between the differential calculus and the state of Louis XIV. Chronological "contemporaneity" was misleading. It should be replaced by an understanding of how different events play similar roles in expressing the culture spirit. Thus he sees his own kind of "contemporaneity" in the Trojan War and the Crusades, in Homer and the songs of the Nibelungs. ~ Daniel J Boorstin,
1348:As they were urgent to cross a bird sign had appeared to them, an eagle, flying high and holding to the left of the people and carrying in its talons a gigantic snake, blood-colored, alive still and breathing, it had not forgotten its warcraft yet, for writhing back it struck the eagle that held it 205  by chest and neck, so that the eagle let it drop groundward in pain of the bite, and dashed it down in the midst of the battle and itself, screaming high, winged away down the wind’s blast. And the Trojans shivered with fear as they looked on the lithe snake lying in their midst, a portent of Zeus of the aegis. ~ Homer,
1349:Dr. Larch bent over him and kissed him, very lightly, on his lips. Homer heard Dr. Larch whisper, ‘Good work, Homer.’ He felt a second, even lighter kiss. ‘Good work, my boy,’ the doctor said, and then left him.
Homer Wells felt his tears come silently; there were more tears than he remembered crying the last time he had cried – when Fuzzy Stone had died and Homer had lied about Fuzzy to Snowy Meadows and the others. He cried and cried, but he never made a sound; he would have to change Dr. Larch’s pillowcase in the morning, he cried so much. He cried because he had received his first fatherly kisses. ~ John Irving,
1350:O Divine Poesy, goddess, daughter of Zeus, sustain for me this song of the various-minded man who, after he had plundered the innermost citadel of hallowed Troy, was made to stay grievously about the coasts of men, the sport of their customs, good and bad, while his heart, through all the sea-faring, ached with an agony to redeem himself and bring his company safe home. Vain hope – for them. The fools! Their own witlessness cast them aside. To destroy for meat the oxen of the most exalted Sun, wherefore the Sun-god blotted out the day of their return. Make this tale live for us in all its many bearings, O Muse. ~ Homer,
1351:But now, as for you, you must make your way, when dawn shows, back to our house, and be with the group of insolent suitors. At a later time the swineherd shall take me to the city, and I shall look like a dismal vagabond, and an old man. But if they maltreat me within the house, then let the dear heart 275 in you even endure it, though I suffer outrage, even if they drag me by the feet through the palace to throw me out of it, or pelt me with missiles; you must still look on and endure it; though indeed you may speak to them with soft words and entreat them to give over their mad behavior, but still they will never ~ Homer,
1352:It is in the face of all this visual chaos, so opposed to order and simplicity, that I suddenly, perhaps a little guiltily, recall my vow to simplify my life. When I made that promise I had in mind the image of the ancient Greek subsisting on a fragment of pungent cheese, coarse bread, a handful of sun-warmed olives, a little watered wine; a man who discussed the Good, the True, the Beautiful with grave delight, and piped clear music in a sylvan glade. But I feel the absence of hills clothed in myrtle and thyme; of the Great Mother, Homer's wine-dark sea. Good resolutions, it seems, require good scenery. ~ Guy Vanderhaeghe,
1353:IF any man drew near
When I was young,
I thought, "He holds her dear,'
And shook with hate and fear.
But O! 'twas bitter wrong
If he could pass her by
With an indifferent eye.
Whereon I wrote and wrought,
And now, being grey,
I dream that I have brought
To such a pitch my thought
That coming time can say,
"He shadowed in a glass
What thing her body was.'
For she had fiery blood
When I was young,
And trod so sweetly proud
As 'twere upon a cloud,
A woman Homer sung,
That life and letters seem
But an heroic dream.

~ William Butler Yeats, A Woman Homer Sung
1354:A third illusion haunts us, that a long duration, as a year, a decade, a century, is valuable. But an old French sentence says, "God works in moments," — "En peu d'heure Dieu labeure." We ask for long life, but 't is deep life, or grand moments, that signify. Let the measure of time be spiritual, not mechanical. Life is unnecessarily long. Moments of insight, of fine personal relation, a smile, a glance, — what ample borrowers of eternity they are! Life culminates and concentrates; and Homer said, "The Gods ever give to mortals their appointed share of reason only on one day." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, Society and Solitude (1870),
1355:They passed the Gates of Thermopylae the following day and Alexander stopped to visit the tombs of the Spartan soldiers who had fallen one hundred and forty years previously during their battle with the Persian invaders. He read the simple inscription in Laconian dialect that commemorated their ultimate sacrifice and he stood in silence listening to the wind blowing in from the sea.
How ephemeral is the destiny of man!’ he exclaimed. ‘All that is left of the thunder of a momentous clash which shook the whole world and an act of heroism worthy of Homer’s verses are these few lines. All is quiet now. ~ Valerio Massimo Manfredi,
1356:I love the writers of my thousand books. It pleases me to think how astonished old Homer, whoever he was, would be to find his epics on the shelf of such an unimaginable being as myself, in the middle of an unrumored continent. I love the large minority of the writers on my shelves who have struggled with words and thoughts and, by my lights, have lost the struggle. All together they are my community, the creators of the very idea of books, poetry, and extended narratives, and of the amazing human conversation that has taken place across the millennia, through weal and woe, over the heads of interest and utility. ~ Marilynne Robinson,
1357:783 Then Patroklos rushed ahead toward the Trojans, with the worst intentions. |784 Three times he rushed at them, and he was equal [atalantos] to swift Arēs. |785 He [= Patroklos] was making a terrifying shout, and he killed three times nine men. |786 But when he [= Patroklos] rushed ahead for yet a fourth time, equal [īsos] to a superhuman force [daimōn], |787 then, O Patroklos, the end of your life made its appearance to you. |788 Facing you now was Phoebus [Apollo], ready to fight you in grim battle. |789 He [= Apollo] was terrifying. But he [= Patroklos] did not notice him as he [= Apollo] was coming at him in the heat of battle. ~ Homer,
1358:They are so caught up in their happiness that they don't realize I'm not really a part of it. I am wandering along the periphery. I am like the people in the Winslow Homer paintings, sharing the same room with them but not really there. I am like the fish in the aquarium, thinking in a different language, adapting to a life that's not my natural habitat. I am the people in the other cars, each with his or her own story, but passing too quickly to be noticed or understood.

. . . There are moments I just sit in my frame, float in my tank, ride in my car and say nothing, think nothing that connects me to anything at all. ~ David Levithan,
1359:So when a man surrenders to the sound of music and lets its sweet, soft, mournful strains, which we have just described, be funnelled into his soul through his ears, and gives up all his time to the glamorous moanings of song, the effect at first on his energy and initiative of mind, if he has any, is to soften it as iron is softened in a furnace, and made workable instead of hard and unworkable: but if he persists and does not break the enchantment, the next stage is that it melts and runs, till the spirit has quite run out of him and his mental sinews (if I may so put it) are cut, and he has become what Homer calls "a feeble fighter". ~ Plato,
Homer, thy song men liken to the sea
With all the notes of music in its tone,
With tides that wash the dim dominion
Of Hades, and light waves that laugh in glee
Around the isles enchanted; nay, to me
Thy verse seems as the River of source unknown
That glasses Egypt's temples overthrown
In his sky-nurtured stream, eternally.
No wiser we than men of heretofore
To find thy sacred fountains guarded fast;
Enough, thy flood makes green our human shore,
As Nilus Egypt, rolling down his vast
His fertile flood, that murmurs evermore
Of gods dethroned, and empires in the past.
~ Andrew Lang,
1361:Ignosi bound the diadem upon his brows. Then advancing, he placed his foot upon the broad chest of his headless foe and broke out into a chant, or rather a pæan of triumph, so beautiful, and yet so utterly savage, that I despair of being able to give an adequate version of his words. Once I heard a scholar with a fine voice read aloud from the Greek poet Homer, and I remember that the sound of the rolling lines seemed to make my blood stand still. Ignosi's chant, uttered as it was in a language as beautiful and sonorous as the old Greek, produced exactly the same effect on me, although I was exhausted with toil and many emotions. ~ H Rider Haggard,
1362:In an oral or semiliterate culture, repeated epithets give a listener an anchor in a quick-moving story. In a highly literate society such as our own, repetitions are likely to feel like moments to skip. They can be a mark of writerly laziness or unwillingness to acknowledge one’s own interpretative position, and can send a reader to sleep. I have used the opportunity offered by the repetitions to explore the multiple different connotations of each epithet. The enduring Odysseus can be a “veteran” or “resilient” or “stoical,” while the wily Odysseus can be a “trickster” or speak “deceitfully,” depending on the needs of a particular passage. ~ Homer,
1363:No, you gods; your desire is to help this cursed Achilleus 40  within whose breast there are no feelings of justice, nor can his mind be bent, but his purposes are fierce, like a lion who when he has given way to his own great strength and his haughty spirit, goes among the flocks of men, to devour them. So Achilleus has destroyed pity, and there is not in him 45  any shame; which does much harm to men but profits them also. For a man must some day lose one who was even closer than this; a brother from the same womb, or a son. And yet he weeps for him, and sorrows for him, and then it is over, for the Destinies put in mortal men the heart of endurance. ~ Homer,
1364:My dear Homer, if you are really only once removed from the truth, with reference to virtue, instead of being twice removed and the manufacturer of a phantom, according to our definition of an imitator, and if you need to be able to distinguish between the pursuits which make men better or worse, in private and in public, tell us what city owes a better constitution to you, as Lacedaemon owes hers to Lycurgus, and as many cities, great and small, owe theirs to many other legislators? What state attributes to you the benefits derived from a good code of laws? Italy and Sicily recognize Charondas in this capacity, and we solon. But what state recognizes you. ~ Plato,
1365:And this puts me in mind of that rich gentleman of Rome, who had been solicitous, with great expense, to procure men that were excellent in all sorts of science, whom he had always attending his person, to the end, that when amongst his friends any occasion fell out of speaking of any subject whatsoever, they might supply his place, and be ready to prompt him, one with a sentence of Seneca, another with a verse of Homer, and so forth, every one according to his talent; and he fancied this knowledge to be his own, because it was in the heads of those who lived upon his bounty; as they, also, do whose learning consists in having great libraries. ~ Michel de Montaigne,
1366:Man is the vainest of all
creatures that have their being upon earth. As long as heaven
vouchsafes him health and strength, he thinks that he shall come to
no harm hereafter, and even when the blessed gods bring sorrow upon
him, he bears it as he needs must, and makes the best of it; for
God Almighty gives men their daily minds day by day. I know all
about it, for I was a rich man once, and did much wrong in the
stubbornness of my pride, and in the confidence that my father and
my brothers would support me; therefore let a man fear God in all
things always, and take the good that heaven may see fit to send
him without vainglory. ~ Homer,
1367:As gale-winds swirl and shatter under the shrilling gusts on days when drifts of dust lie piled thick on the roads and winds whip up the dirt in a dense whirling cloud- so the battle broke, storming chaos, troops inflamed, slashing each other with bronze, carnage mounting, manslaughtering combat bristling with rangy spears, the honed lances brandished in hand and ripping flesh and the eyes dazzled now, blind with the glare of bronze, glittering helmets flashing, breastplates freshly burnished, shields fiery in sunlight, fighters plowing on in a mass. Only a veteran steeled at heart could watch that struggle and still thrill with joy and never feel the terror. ~ Homer,
1368:-You've got a . . . Lot of books, he said at last.
-it's a sickness.
-Are you . . . Seeing anyone for it?
-I'm afraid it's untreatable.
-is this the . . . Dewey decimal system?
-No. But it's based on similar principles. Those are the British novelists. The French are in the kitchen. Homer, Virgil, and the other epics are by the tub.
-I take it the . . . Transcendental its do better in the sunlight.
-Do they need much water?
-Not as much as you think. But lots of pruning.
He pointed the volume toward a pile of books under my bed.
-And the . . . Mushrooms?
-The Russians.
-Who's winning?
-Not me. ~ Amor Towles,
1369:Den Mann nenne mir, Muse, den vielgewandten, der gar viel umgetrieben
wurde, nachdem er Trojas heilige Stadt zerstörte. Von vielen Menschen sah er
die Städte und lernte kennen ihre Sinnesart; viel auch erlitt er Schmerzen auf
dem Meer in seinem Gemüte, während er sein Leben zu gewinnen suchte wie
auch die Heimkehr der Gefährten. Jedoch er rettete auch so nicht die Gefährten,
so sehr er es begehrte. Selber nämlich durch ihre eignen Freveltaten verdarben
sie, die Toren, die die Rinder des Sohns der Höhe, Helios, verzehrten. Der aber
nahm ihnen den Tag der Heimkehr. Davon – du magst beginnen, wo es sein mag
– Göttin, Tochter des Zeus! sage auch uns! ~ Homer,
He strode across the schoolroom in July,
Great Hector, clanging in his brazen mail;
And all the cringing Greeks, with faces pale,
Creaked into jabbering Ks and turned to fly.
Achilles, safe because he could not die,
Cheated and won; and all the lines grew stale.
The life was gone from out the shabby tale;
And back in Homer's teeth we flung the lie.
We fought for Troy behind a mossy wall;
We burned the Grecian ships below a tree . . .
Ah, that great war was forty years ago !
Yet still I know that Hector did not fall;
For when the bell rang truce to friend and foe,
Achilles, lying Greek, was under me!
~ David McKee Wright,
1371:It was Nurse Caroline who introduced Homer to young Dr. Harlow, who was in the throes of growing out his bangs; a cowlick persisted in making his forehead look meager; a floppy shelf of straw-colored hair gave Dr. Harlow’s eyes the constant anxiousness of someone peering from under the brim of a hat.
‘Oh yes, Wells – our ether expert,’ Dr. Harlow said snidely.
‘I grew up in an orphanage,’ said Homer Wells. ‘I did a lot of helping out around the hospital.’
‘But surely you never administered any ether?’ said Dr. Harlow.
‘Surely not,’ lied Homer Wells. As Dr. Larch had discovered with the board of trustees, it was especially gratifying to lie to unlikable people. ~ John Irving,
1372:No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew
No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,
Though buried under centuries of fine
Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew
Forever, and forever lost from view,
But must again in fragrance rich as wine
The grey aisles of the air incarnadine
When the old summers surge into a new.
Thus when I swear, "I love with all my heart,"
'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,
'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;
And thus as well my love must lose some part
Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,
Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay,
1373:...cred că marii poeţi contimporani ai lui Homer îl dispreţuiau pe acesta şi cred că Iliada nu interesa atunci cum nu interesează (decât cu interesul estetic diminuat al d-lui Vianu) nici astăzi. Marii poeţi ai acelor vremuri au murit astăzi. Chiar dacă astăzi am descoperi manuscrisele lor, semn al genialităţii lor, nu le-am putea înţelege şi reabilita, căci au murit, cu sensurile lor, cu ultimele lor vibrări. (...) Căci nu vedeţi că totul se usucă? Nu vedeţi că poezia, vie, fragilă la început, devine document uscat? Că Iliada nu este a poeţilor, ci a arheologilor? Dar, pe porţiuni de timp foarte mici, că poezia genială (da! da!) a lui Ion Minulescu în 1909 este în 1933 tâmpită. ~ Eug ne Ionesco, long as we have the choice to read what we want, I suspect Twain and Homer and the rest will always be with us. The stoutest old writers ebb and flow in popularity; tastes and political correctness and educational trends also ebb and flow, and we have a tendency to embrace the short view because it makes better news stories. So the joy of literature may not be at a high water mark right now, and yet you can walk into the Target store of your choice and pick up Catcher in the Rye. Beauty floats, I guess, along with sorrow and hope. ( ~ Leif Enger,
1375:Hence it is that men are much more naturally inclined to belief than to incredulity. And it is upon this principle, that the most ignorant and barbarous nations have frequently excelled in similitudes, comparisons, metaphors, and allegories, who have been weak and backward in distinguishing and sorting their ideas. And it is for a reason of this kind, that Homer and the oriental writers, though very fond of similitudes, and though they often strike out such as are truly admirable, seldom take care to have them exact; that is, they are taken with the general resemblance, they paint it strongly, and they take no notice of the difference which may be found between the things compared. ~ Edmund Burke,
1376:Sonnets 06: No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew
No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,
Though buried under centuries of fine
Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew
Forever, and forever lost from view,
But must again in fragrance rich as wine
The grey aisles of the air incarnadine
When the old summers surge into a new.
Thus when I swear, "I love with all my heart,"
'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,
'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;
And thus as well my love must lose some part
Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,
Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay,
1377:What are you afraid of then?'
She pondered. He had already noticed that it was her hands which indicated what she was thinking of quite as much as her face and now he watched as she cupped them, making them ready to receive her thoughts.
'Not being able to see, I think,' she said.
'Being blind, you mean?'
'No, not that. That would be terrible hard but Homer managed it and our blind piano tuner is one of the serenest people I know. I mean ... not seeing because you're obsessed by something that blots out the world. Some sort of mania of belief. Or passion. That awful kind of love that makes leaves and birds and cherry blossom invisible because it's not the face on some man. ~ Eva Ibbotson,
1378:You’re pretty full of yourself. You’re marveling at the tragic spectacle of Caleb Trask—Caleb the
magnificent, the unique. Caleb whose suffering should have its Homer. Did you ever think of yourself
as a snot-nose kid—mean sometimes, incredibly generous sometimes? Dirty in your habits, and
curiously pure in your mind. Maybe you have a little more energy than most, just energy, but outside
of that you’re very like all the other snot-nose kids. Are you trying to attract dignity and tragedy to
yourself because your mother was a whore? And if anything should have happened to your brother,
will you be able to sneak for yourself the eminence of being a murderer, snot-nose? ~ John Steinbeck,
1379:O Divine Poesy, goddess, daughter of Zeus, sustain for me this song of the various-minded man who, after he had plundered the innermost citadel of hallowed Troy, was made to stay grievously about the coasts of men, the sport of their customs, good and bad, while his heart, through all the sea-faring, ached with an agony to redeem himself and bring his company safe home. Vain hope – for them. The fools! Their own witlessness cast them aside. To destroy for meat the oxen of the most exalted Sun, wherefore the Sun-god blotted out the day of their return. Make this tale live for us in all its many bearings, O Muse.” – from Homer’s Odyssey, translation by T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia) ~ Steven Pressfield,
1380:This disdain for science and scholarship baffled Muslim commentators, who had great respect for Ptolemy and Euclid, for Homer and Aristotle. Some had little doubt what was to blame. Once, wrote the historian al-Mas  ūdī, the ancient Greeks and the Romans had allowed the sciences to flourish; then they adopted Christianity. When they did so, they ‘effaced the signs of [learning], eliminated its traces and destroyed its paths’. 92 Science was defeated by faith. It is almost the precise opposite of the world as we see it today: the fundamentalists were not the Muslims, but the Christians; those whose minds were open, curious and generous were based in the east –and certainly not in Europe. ~ Peter Frankopan,
1381:Homer porge il libro a Lilith e lei lo prende fra le dita. Lilith si aspetta che sia come un vestito o un portagioielli, facile a rompersi come qualsiasi cosa dei backra. Il libro è duro e morbido al tempo stesso, la copertina su cui fa scorrere le dita sembra lino al tatto, o tela grezza, ma il libro è anche duro come il legno e spesso. Il libro è rosso come il vino o il sangue. Lei non ha mai, mai toccato né annusato niente di simile. Un effluvio come d'olio, o forse di ascelle di uomo bianco, o di polvere e qualcos'altro, tutte cose che separate hanno un odore orribile ma insieme creano la più meravigliosa delle miscele. Lilith chiude gli occhi e fiuta quell'odore come fosse tabacco. ~ Marlon James,
1382:He reaches for his pen. He yawns and puts it down and picks it up again. I shall be found dead at my desk, he thinks, like the poet Petrarch. The poet wrote many unsent letters: he wrote to Cicero, who died twelve hundred years before he was born. He wrote to Homer, who possibly never even existed; but I, I have enough to do with Lord Lisle, and the fish traps, and the Emperor's galleons tossing on the Middle Sea. Between one dip of the pen, Petrarch writes, 'between one dip of the pen and the next, the time passes: and I hurry, I drive myself, and I speed towards death. We are always dying - I while I write, you while you read, and others while they listen or block their ears; they are all dying. ~ Hilary Mantel,
1383:I believe . . . that the petal of a flower or a tiny worm on the path says far more, contains far more than all the books in the library. One cannot say very much with mere letters and words. Sometimes I'll be writing a Greek letter, a theta or an omega, and tilt my pen just the slightest bit; suddenly the letter has a tail and becomes a fish; in a second it evokes all the streams and rivers of the world, all that is cool and humid, Homer's sea and the waters on which Saint Peter wandered; or becomes a bird, flaps its tail, shakes out its feathers, puffs itself up, laughs, flies away. You probably don't appreciate letters like that, very much, do you, Narcissus? But I say: with them God wrote the world. ~ Hermann Hesse,
1384:Genius In Beauty
Beauty like hers is genius. Not the call
Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime, -Not Michael's hand furrowing the zones of time, -Is more with compassed mysteries musical;
Nay, not in Spring's Summer's sweet footfall
More gathered gifts exuberant Life bequeaths
Than doth this sovereign face, whose love-spell breathes
Even from its shadowed contour on the wall.
As many men are poets in their youth,
But for one sweet-strung soul the wires prolong
Even through all change the indomitable song;
So in likewise the envenomed years, whose tooth
Rends shallower grace with ruin void of truth,
Upon this beauty's power shall wreak no wrong.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
1385:Those who have not learned to read the ancient classics in the language in which they were written must have a very imperfect knowledge of the history of the human race; for it is remarkable that no transcript of them has ever been made into any modern tongue, unless our civilization itself may be regarded as such a transcript. Homer has never yet been printed in English, nor Aeschylus, nor Virgil even, works as refined, as solidly done, and as beautiful almost as the morning itself; for later writers, say what we will of their genius, have rarely, if ever, equaled the elaborate beauty and finish and the lifelong and heroic literary labors of the ancients. They only talk of forgetting them who never knew them. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1386:We live in a society that places great emphasis on personal happiness, defined as not being frustrated in the realization of your wants. But old moral traditions do not die. They waft down the centuries and reinspire new people in new conditions. Marshall lived in the world of airplanes and the nuclear bomb, but in many ways he was formed by the moral traditions of classical Greece and Rome. His moral make-up owed something to Homer, to the classical emphasis on courage and honor. It owed something to the Stoics, with their emphasis on moral discipline. But particularly later in life it also owed something to the ancient Athenian Pericles, who embodied the style of leadership that we call magnanimity, or great-souled. ~ David Brooks,
1387:What to me also seems most striking in this respect is how the great poetic geniuses (an Ossian, a Homer) are presented as blind. Naturally it doesn't matter to me whether they really were blind; the point is people have imagined them so, as if to indicate that what they saw when they sang of the beauty of nature appeared not to the external eye but to an inner intuition. How remarkable that one of the writers on bees - yes, the best of them - was blind from early youth; it's as if to show that here, where you would have thought external observation so important, he had found that point and from it was then able by purely mental activity to infer back to all particulars and reconstruct them in analogy with nature. ~ S ren Kierkegaard,
1388:The Builders
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
Come duly, as of old;
Winds blow, suns set, and morning saith,
'Ye hills, put on your gold.'
The song of Homer liveth,
Dead Solon is not dead;
Thy splendid name, Pythagoras,
O'er realms of suns is spread.
But Babylon and Memphis
Are letters traced in dust;
Read them, earth's tyrants I ponder well
The might in which ye trust!
They rose, while all the depths of guilt
Their vain creators sounded;
They fell, because on fraud and force
Their corner-stones were founded.
Truth, mercy, knowledge, justice,
Are powers that ever stand;
They build their temples in the soul,
And work with God's right hand.
~ Ebenezer Elliott,
1389:Friend, that was not well spoken; you seem like one who is reckless. So it is that the gods do not bestow graces in all ways on men, neither in stature nor yet in brains or eloquence; for there is a certain kind of man, less noted for beauty, but the god puts comeliness on his words, and they who look toward him are filled with joy at the sight, and he speaks to them without faltering in winning modesty, and shines among those who are gathered, and people look on him as on a god when he walks in the city. Another again in his appearance is like the immortals, but upon his words there is no grace distilled, as in your case the appearance is conspicuous, and not a god even would make it otherwise, and yet the mind there is worthless. ~ Homer,
1390:And let Apollo drive Prince Hector back to battle,
breathe power back in his lungs, make him forget
the pain that racks his heart. Let him whip the Achaeans
in headlong panic rout and roll them back once more,
tumbling back on the oar-swept ships of Peleus' son Achilles.
And he, will launch his comrade Patroclus into action
and glorious Hector will cut him down with a spear
in front of Troy, once Patroclus has slaughtered
whole battalions of strong young fighting men
and among them all, my shining son Sarpedon.
But then - enraged for Patroclus -
brilliant Achilles will bring Prince Hector down.
And then, from that day on, I'll turn the tide of war:
back the fighting goes, no stopping it, ever. ~ Homer,
1391:Homo proponit et Deus disponit. ~ And governeth alle goode virtues. ~ William Langland, Vision of Piers Ploughman (Ed. 1824), Volume II, p. 427, line 13,984. John Gerson is credited with same. Saying quoted in Chronicles of Battel Abbey (1066 to 1177). Translation by Lower, 1851, p. 27. Homer, Iliad, XVII. 515. Pindar, Olymp, XIII. 149. Demosthenes, De Corona., 209. Plautus, Bacchid. I, 2, 36. Ammianus Marcellinus, Hist, XXV. 3. Francois Fenelon, Sermon on the Epiphany, 1685. Montaigne, Essay, Book II, Chapter XXXVII. Seneca the Younger, Epistles, 107. Cleanthus, Fragment. Cervantes, Don Quixote, I. 22. Dante, Paradise, VIII, line 134. Friedrich Schiller, Wallenstein's Death, I, 7. 32. Ordericus Vitalis, Ecclesiastica Historia, Book III (1075),
1392:And it has stayed there, calmly in its spot, growing slowly, producing leaves, losing leaves, producing more, as those mammoths became extinct, as Homer wrote The Odyssey, as Cleopatra reigned, as Jesus was nailed to a cross, as Siddhartha Gautama left his palace to weep for his suffering subjects, as the Roman Empire declined and fell, as Carthage was captured, as water buffalo were domesticated in China, as the Incas built cities, as I leaned over the well with Rose, as America fought with itself, as world wars happened, as Facebook was invented, as millions of humans and other animals lived and fought and procreated and went, bewildered, to their fast graves, the tree had always been the tree. That was the familiar lesson of time. ~ Matt Haig,
1393:Sonnet Xviii: Genius In Beauty
Beauty like hers is genius. Not the call
Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime,—
Not Michael's hand furrowing the zones of time,—
Is more with compassed mysteries musical;
Nay, not in Spring's or Summer's sweet footfall
More gathered gifts exuberant Life bequeaths
Than doth this sovereign face, whose love-spell breathes
Even from its shadowed contour on the wall.
As many men are poets in their youth,
But for one sweet-strung soul the wires prolong
Even through all change the indomitable song;
So in like wise the envenomed years, whose tooth
Rends shallower grace with ruin void of ruth,
Upon this beauty's power shall wreak no wrong.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
1394:And the LORD said to me, “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.” 2So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech [1] of barley. 3And I said to her, “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you.” 4For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods. 5Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the LORD and to his goodness in the latter days. ~ Anonymous,
If it is unpermissible, in fact fatal
to be personal and undesirable
to be literal—detrimental as well
if the eye is not innocent-does it mean that
one can live only on top leaves that are small
reachable only by a beast that is tall?—
of which the giraffe is the best example—
the unconversational animal.
When plagued by the psychological,
a creature can be unbearable
that could have been irresistible;
or to be exact, exceptional
since less conversational
than some emotionally-tied-in-knots animal.
After all
consolations of the metaphysical
can be profound. In Homer, existence
is flawed; transcendence, conditional;
“the journey from sin to redemption, perpetual. ~ Marianne Moore,
1396:Candy felt helpless; no one seemed to understand why she was standing there. Children were colliding with her at hip level, and this awkward, darkly handsome young man, who was surely her own age but seemed somehow older…was she supposed to tell him why she’d come to St. Cloud’s? Couldn’t anyone tell by just looking at her? Then Homer Wells looked at her in that way; their eyes met. Candy thought that he had seen her many times before, that he’d watched her grow up, had seen her naked, had even observed the act responsible for the particular trouble she was now presenting for cure. It was shattering to Homer to recognize in the expression of the beautiful stranger he had fallen in love with something as familiar and pitiable as another unwanted pregnancy. ~ John Irving,
1397:Saint Paul said the invisible must be understood by the visible. That was not a Hebrew idea, it was Greek. In Greece alone in the ancient world people were preoccupied with the visible; they were finding the satisfaction of their desires in what was actually in the world around them. The sculptor watched the athletes contending in the games and he felt that nothing he could imagine would be as beautiful as those strong young bodies. So he made his statue of Apollo. The storyteller found Hermes among the people he passed in the street. He saw the god “like a young man at the age when youth is loveliest,” as Homer says. Greek artists and poets realized how splendid a man could be, straight and swift and strong. He was the fulfillment of their search for beauty. ~ Edith Hamilton,
1398:Sammelten heute wir Tapfersten uns im Lager zum Handstreich,
wo man besonders deutlich erkennt, was der einzelne leistet -
wo sich der Feigling genauso entpuppt wie der mutige Streiter;
denn der Jämmerling wechselt ununterbrochen die Farbe,
ruhig zu sitzen, verwehrt ihm die Aufregung, unstet nur hockt er,
stützt sich bald auf den rechten Fuß und bald auf den linken;
ungestüm schlägt ihm das Herz in der Brust, wenn er schaudernd sich ausmalt,
wie ihn vielerlei Keren bedrohen, ihm klappern die Zähne;
aber der Tapfere kennt kein Wechseln der Farbe, kein Zittern,
hat er die Ausgangsstellung zum Handstreich einmal bezogen,
wünscht nur möglichst schnell in den bitteren Kampf sich zu stürzen -,
schwerlich träfe dann Tadel deine kraftvollen Fäuste! ~ Homer,
1399:Ordinary conservatives – and many, possibly most, people fall into this category – are constantly told that their ideas and sentiments are reactionary, prejudiced, sexist or racist. Just by being the thing they are they offend against the new norms of inclusiveness and non-discrimination. Their honest attempts to live by their lights, raising families, enjoying communities, worshipping their gods, and adopting a settled and affirmative culture – these attempts are scorned and ridiculed by the Guardian class. In intellectual circles conservatives therefore move quietly and discreetly, catching each other’s eyes across the room like the homosexuals in Proust, whom that great writer compared to Homer’s gods, known only to each other as they move in disguise around the world of mortals. ~ Roger Scruton,
1400:With a dark glance
wily Odysseus shot back, “Indecent talk, my friend.
You, you’re a reckless fool —I see that. So,
the gods don’t hand out all their gifts at once,
not build and brains and flowing speech to all.
One man may fail to impress us with his looks
but a god can crown his words with beauty, charm,
and men look on with delight when he speaks out.
Never faltering, filled with winning self-control,
he shines forth at assembly grounds and people gaze at him like a god when he walks through the streets.
Another man may look like a deathless one on high
but there’s not a bit of grace to crown his words.
Just like you, my fine, handsome friend. Not even
a god could improve those lovely looks of yours
but the mind inside is worthless. ~ Homer,
1401:BOOKS AND SUCCESS. Ignorance is the curse of God, Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. —Shakespeare. Prefer knowledge to wealth; for the one is transitory, the other perpetual. —Socrates. If a man empties his purse into his head, no man can take it away from him. An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest. —Franklin. My early and invincible love of reading, I would not exchange for the treasures of India. —Gibbon. If the crowns of all the kingdoms of the empire were laid down at my feet in exchange for my books and my love of reading, I would spurn them all. —Fénelon. Who of us can tell What he had been, had Cadmus never taught The art that fixes into form the thought,— Had Plato never spoken from his cell, Or his high harp blind Homer never strung? —Bulwer. ~ Orison Swett Marden,
1402:Let us be quite clear that the ideal is a paradox. Most of us, having grown up among the ruins of the chivalrous tradition, were taught in our youth that a bully is always a coward. Our first week at school refuted this lie, along with its corollary that a truly brave man is always gentle. It is a pernicious lie because it misses the real novelty and originality of the medieval demand upon human nature. Worse still, it represents as a natural fact something which is really a human ideal, nowhere fully attained, and nowhere attained at all without arduous discipline. It is refuted by history and Experience. Homer’s Achilles knows nothing of the demand that the brave should also be the modest and the merciful. He kills men as they cry for quarter or takes them prisoner to kill them at leisure. ~ C S Lewis,
1403:When Homer Wells saw the stationmaster’s brain stem exposed, he felt that Dr. Larch was busy enough – with both hands – for it to be safe to say what Homer wanted to say.
‘I love you,’ said Homer Wells. He knew he had to leave the room, then – while he could still see the door – and so he started to leave.
‘I love you too, Homer,’ said Wilbur Larch, who for another minute or more could not have seen a blood clot in the brain stem if there had been one to see. He heard Homer say ‘Right’ before he heard the door close.
In a while, he could make out the brain stem clearly, there was no clot.
‘Arrhythmia,’ Wilbur Larch repeated to himself. Then he added, ‘Right,’ as if he were now speaking for Homer Wells. Dr. Larch put his instruments aside; he gripped the operating table for a long time. ~ John Irving,
1404:Give Me The Harp Of Epic Song
Give me the harp of epic song,
Which Homer's finger thrill'd along;
But tear away the sanguine string,
For war is not the theme I sing.
Proclaim the laws of festal rite,
I'm monarch of the board tonight;
And all around shall brim as high,
And quaff the tide as deep as I!
And when the cluster's mellowing dews
Their warm, enchanting balm infuse,
Our feet shall catch th' elastic bound,
And reel us through the dance's round.
Oh Bacchus! we shall sing to thee,
In wild but sweet ebriety!
And flash around such sparks of thought,
As Bacchus could alone have taught!
Then give the harp of epic song,
Which Homer's finger thrill'd along;
But tear away the sanguine string,
For war is not the theme I sing!
~ Anacreon,
1405:To what shall I compare my literary pursuits in India? Suppose Greek literature to be known in modern Greece only, and there to be in the hands of priests and philosophers; and suppose them to be still worshippers of Jupiter and Apollo; suppose Greece to have been conquered successively by Goths, Huns, Vandals, Tartars, and lastly by the English; then suppose a court of judicature to be established by the British parliament, at Athens, and an inquisitive Englishman to be one of the judges; suppose him to learn Greek there, which none of his countrymen knew, and to read Homer, Pindar, Plato, which no other Europeans had even heard of. Such am I in this country: substituting Sanscrit for Greek, the Brahmans, for the priests of Jupiter, and Vālmic, Vyāsa, Cālīdāsa, for Homer, Plato, Pindar. William Jones ~ Aatish Taseer,
1406:Homer Clapp
Often Aner Clute at the gate
Refused me the parting kiss,
Saying we should be engaged before that;
And just with a distant clasp of the hand
She bade me good-night, as I brought her home
From the skating rink or the revival.
No sooner did my departing footsteps die away
Than Lucius Atherton,
(So I learned when Aner went to Peoria)
Stole in at her window, or took her riding
Behind his spanking team of bays
Into the country.
The shock of it made me settle down,
And I put all the money I got from my father's estate
Into the canning factory, to get the job
Of head accountant, and lost it all.
And then I knew I was one of Life's fools,
Whom only death would treat as the equal
Of other men, making me feel like a man.
~ Edgar Lee Masters,
1407:Petit, The Poet
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick,
Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a quarrel-Faint iambics that the full breeze wakens-But the pine tree makes a symphony thereof.
Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus,
Ballades by the score with the same old thought:
The snows and the roses of yesterday are vanished;
And what is love but a rose that fades?
Life all around me here in the village:
Tragedy, comedy, valor and truth,
Courage, constancy, heroism, failure-All in the loom, and oh what patterns!
Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers-Blind to all of it all my life long.
Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus,
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick,
Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics,
While Homer and Whitman roared in the pines?
~ Edgar Lee Masters,
1408:You shall see rude and sturdy, experienced and wise men, keeping their castles, or teaming up their summer’s wood, or chopping alone in the woods, men fuller of talk and rare adventure in the sun and wind and rain, than a chestnut is of meat; who were out not only in ‘75 and 1812, but have been out every day of their lives; greater men than Homer, or Chaucer, or Shakespeare, only they never got time to say so; they never took to the way of writing. Look at their fields, and imagine what they might write, if ever they should put pen to paper. Or what have they not written on the face of the earth already, clearing, and burning, and scratching, and harrowing, and plowing, and subsoiling, in and in, and out and out, and over and over, again and again, erasing what they had already written for want of parchment. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1409:Up until relatively recently, creating original characters from scratch wasn't a major part of an author's job description. When Virgil wrote The Aeneid, he didn't invent Aeneas; Aeneas was a minor character in Homer's Odyssey whose unauthorized further adventures Virgil decided to chronicle. Shakespeare didn't invent Hamlet and King Lear; he plucked them from historical and literary sources. Writers weren't the originators of the stories they told; they were just the temporary curators of them. Real creation was something the gods did.

All that has changed. Today the way we think of creativity is dominated by Romantic notions of individual genius and originality, and late-capitalist concepts of intellectual property, under which artists are businesspeople whose creations are the commodities they have for sale. ~ Lev Grossman,
1410:The situation Larch was thinking of was war, the so-called war in Europe; Larch, and many others, feared that the war wouldn’t stay there. (‘I’m sorry, Homer,’ Larch imagined having to tell the boy. ‘I don’t want you to worry, but you have a bad heart; it just wouldn’t stand up to a war.’) What Larch meant was that his own heart would never stand up to Homer Wells’s going to war.
The love of Wilbur Larch for Homer Wells extended even to his tampering with history, a field wherein he was an admitted amateur, but it was nonetheless a field that he respected and also loved. (In an earlier entry in the file on Homer Wells – an entry that Dr. Larch removed, for it lent an incorrect tone of voice, or at least a tone of voice unusual for history – Dr. Larch had written: ‘I love nothing or no one as much as I love Homer Wells. Period. ~ John Irving,
1411:In front marched Egypt. The Duke of Egypt at their head, on horseback, with his counts on foot, holding his bridle and stirrups; behind them the Egyptians, men and women, in any order, with their young children yelling on their shoulders; all of them, duke, counts, common people, in rags and tinsel. Then came the kingdom of the argot, that is to say, every thief in France, graded in order of rank, the lowest going in front. Thus there filed past in column of four, in the various insignia of their grades in this strange academy, the majority crippled, some of them lame, others with only one arm, the upright men, the counterfeit cranks, the rufflers, the kinchincoves, the Abraham-men, the fraters, the dommerars, the trulls, the whipjacks, the prygges, the drawlatches, the robardesmen, the clapper-dogens; an enumeration to weary Homer. ~ Victor Hugo,
Half across the world from me
Lie the lands I'll never seeI, whose longing lives and dies
Where a ship has sailed away;
I, that never close my eyes
But to look upon Cathay.
Things I may not know nor tell
Wait, where older waters swell;
Ways that flowered at Sappho's tread,
Winds that sighed in Homer's strings,
Vibrant with the singing dead,
Golden with the dust of wings.
Under deeper skies than mine,
Quiet valleys dip and shine.
Where their tender grasses heal
Ancient scars of trench and tomb
I shall never walk: nor kneel
Where the bones of poets bloom.
If I seek a lovelier part,
Where I travel goes my heart;
Where I stray my thought must go;
With me wanders my desire.
Best to sit and watch the snow,
Turn the lock, and poke the fire.
~ Dorothy Parker,
1413:War Music [down On Your Knees, Achilles]
An account of books 16-19 of the Iliad by Homer.
Down on your knees, Achilles. Farther down.
Now forward on your hands and put your face into the dirt,
And scrub it to and fro.
Grief has you by the hair with one
And with the forceps of its other hand
Uses your mouth to trowel the dogshit up;
Watches you lift your arms to Heaven; and then
Pounces and screws your nose into the filth.
Gods have plucked drawstrings from your head,
And from the templates of your upper lip
Modelled their bows.
Not now. Not since
Your grieving reaches out and pistol-whips
That envied face, until
Frightened to bear your black, backbreaking agony alone,
You sank, throat back, thrown back, your voice
Thrown out across the sea to reach your Source.
~ Christopher Logue,
1414:I am a college-educated American. In all my years of formal schooling, I never read Plato or Aristotle, Homer or Virgil. I knew nothing of Greek and Roman history and barely grasped the meaning of the Middle Ages. Dante was a stranger to me, and so was Shakespeare. The fifteen hundred years of Christianity from the end of the New Testament to the Reformation were a blank page, and I knew only the barest facts about Luther's revolution. I was ignorant of Descartes and Newton. My understanding of Western history began with the Enlightenment. Everything that came before it was lost behind a misty curtain of forgetting. Nobody did this on purpose. Nobody tried to deprive me of my civilizational patrimony. But nobody felt any obligation to present it to me and my generation in an orderly, coherent fashion. Ideas have consequences - and so does their lack. ~ Rod Dreher,
1415:Achilles’ rebuke of Odysseus, in its pride and despair, resonates throughout the Odyssey. Yet rather than spreading a gloom over the rest of the poem, it is a constant background reminder. We are moved, as the poet describes them, by the simplest of things human life has to offer: a bath, a meal, a courteous welcome to a stranger, a conversation by the fire. There is a radiance that surrounds our brief human actions, a beauty that makes even the life of a beggar or a slave, from Achilles’ perspective, seem like a privilege. These simple things are the givens longed for by him and the other ghosts, those that would have wept to step barefoot into reality, That would have wept and been happy, have shivered in the frost And cried out to feel it again, have run fingers over leaves And against the most coiled thorn, have seized on what was ugly And laughed . . . ~ Homer,
1416:When he and Wally stopped laughing, Homer said, ‘I’ve never seen the ocean, you know.’
‘Candy, did you hear that?’ Wally asked, but Candy had released herself with her brief laughter and she was sound asleep. ‘You’ve never seen the ocean?’ Wally asked Homer.
‘That’s right,’ said Homer Wells.
‘That’s not funny,’ said Wally seriously.
‘Right,’ Homer said.
A little later, Wally said, ‘You want to drive for a while?’
‘I don’t know how to drive,’ Homer said.
‘Really?’ Wally asked. And later still – it was almost midnight – Wally asked, ‘Uh, have you ever been with a girl – made love to one, you know?’ But Homer Wells had also felt released: he had laughed out loud with his new friends. The young but veteran insomniac had fallen asleep. Would Wally have been surprised to know that Homer hadn’t laughed out loud with friends before, either? ~ John Irving,
1417:In Wally’s bedroom Homer marveled at how the world was simultaneously being invented and destroyed.
Nothing marvelous about that, Dr. Larch would have assured him. At St. Cloud’s, except for the irritation about sugar stamps and other aspects of the rationing, very little was changed by the war. (Or by what people once singled out as the Depression, thought Wilbur Larch.)
We are an orphanage; we provide these services; we stay the same – if we’re allowed to stay the same, he thought. When he would almost despair, when the ether was too overpowering, when his own age seemed like the last obstacle and the vulnerability of his illegal enterprise was as apparent to him as the silhouettes of the fir trees against the sharp night skies of autumn, Wilbur Larch would save himself with this one thought: I love Homer Wells, and I have saved him from the war. ~ John Irving,
1418:To support an adequate standard of living, humankind still needs huge quantities of wood and wood products, from planking and beams and fibreboard to paper. We need trees, lots of them, and we must therefore use a good fraction of Earth’s surface as cropland for tree farms. Indeed, British Columbia’s terrain and temperate climate are ideal for growing softwood suitable for construction. I know that we can grow and harvest trees sensibly: during his career in B.C., my father worked as a forester and built a reputation as an innovator of logging and reforestation techniques that cause minimal damage to the land. As a child and young man, I spent many hours watching his employees use these techniques, and for two summers I worked in the B.C. forest industry myself, surveying tracts of timber for logging. But on that sunny afternoon, the clear-cuts southeast ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1419:Melony put herself straight to bed without her dinner. Mrs. Grogan, worried about her, went to Melony’s bed and felt her forehead, which was feverish, but Mrs. Grogan could not coax Melony to drink anything. All Melony said was, ‘He broke his promise.’ Later, she said, ‘Homer Wells has left St. Cloud’s.’
‘You have a little temperature, dear,’ said Mrs. Grogan, but when Homer Wells didn’t come to read Jane Eyre aloud that evening, Mrs. Grogan started paying closer attention. She allowed Melony to read to the girls that evening; Melony’s voice was oddly flat and passionless. Melony’s reading from Jane Eyre depressed Mrs. Grogan – especially when she read this part:
…it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it…
Why, the girl didn’t bat an eye! Mrs. Grogan observed.
~ John Irving,
1420:To write the poem of the human conscience, were it only of a single man, were it only of the most infamous of men, would be to swallow up all epics in a superior and final epic. The conscience is the chaos of chimeras, of lusts and of temptations, the furnace of dreams, the cave of the ideas which are our shame; it is the pandemonium of sophisms, the battlefield of the passions. At certain hours, penetrate within the livid face of a human being who reflects, and look at what lies behind; look into that soul, look into that obscurity. There, beneath the external silence, there are combats of giants as in Homer, mêlées of dragons and hydras, and clouds of phantoms as in Milton, ghostly labyrinths as in Dante. What a gloom enwraps that infinite which each man bears within himself, and by which he measures in despair the desires of his will, and the actions of his life! ~ Victor Hugo,
1421:Now quiet, they’re about to announce the lottery numbers! —Homer Simpson SAVANNA WITTENBERG’S PRECEPT Flowers are great, but love is better. —Justin Bieber HENRY JOPLIN’S PRECEPT Don’t be friends with jerks. —Henry Joplin MAYA MARKOWITZ’S PRECEPT All you need is love. —The Beatles AMOS CONTI’S PRECEPT Don’t try too hard to be cool. It always shows, and that’s uncool. —Amos Conti XIMENA CHIN’S PRECEPT To thine own self be true. —Hamlet, Shakespeare JULIAN ALBANS’S PRECEPT Sometimes it’s good to start over. —Julian Albans SUMMER DAWSON’S PRECEPT If you can get through middle school without hurting anyone’s feelings, that’s really cool beans. —Summer Dawson JACK WILL’S PRECEPT Keep calm and carry on! —some saying from World War II AUGUST PULLMAN’S PRECEPT Everyone in the world should get a standing ovation at least once in their life because we all overcometh the world. —Auggie ~ R J Palacio,
1422:Thus they fay that Minerva was affimilated to Mentor, Mercury to the bird called the fea-gull, and Apollo to a hawk; indicating by this their more da?mo-aiiacal orders, into which they proceed from thofe of a fuperior rank. Hence, when they defcribe the divint advents of the Gods, they en-6 deavour deavour to preferve them formlefs and unfigured. Thus, when Minerva appears to Achilles % and becomes vifible to him alone, tiie whole camp being prefent, there Homer does not even fabuloufly afcribe any form and figure to the goddefs, but only fays that (he was prefent, without exprefiing the manner in which fhe was prefent. But when they intend to flgnify angeiic appearances, they introduce the Gods under various forms, but thefe fuch as are total; as for inftance, a humaa form, or one common to man or woman indefinitely. For thus, again, Neptune and Minerva were prefent with Achilles : ~ Anonymous,
1423:In saying that the truth is both said and not said by the philosopher (said and not said in the form of stammering), Aristotle was still close to the methods of interpretation used by grammarians in their commentaries on the poets. Symbolic or allegorical methods pointing out what was deliberately hidden by Homer behind the figure of Nestor or Ulysses.

But there is a difference however — and a crucial one — which is that for Aristotle the equivocation of the said and the not-said, this distance without gap which means that the truth is both hidden and present in the philosopher's words, this light that is shadow, is not the effect of an oracular kind of intentional secret or prudent reserve. If philosophers do not speak the truth, this is not because their indulgence wishes to protect men from its terrible face; it is because they lack a certain knowledge (savoir). ~ Michel Foucault,
1424:The biblical narrative begins and ends at home. From the Garden of Eden to the New Jerusalem we are hardwired for place and for permanence, for rest and refuge, for presence and protection. We long for home because welcome was our first gift of grace and it will be our last. The settings of our first home and our last home testify to the nature of the embodied story God is writing in human history. Because God’s story begins in a garden and ends in a city, place isn’t incidental to Christian hope, just as bodies aren’t incidental to salvation. God will resurrect our bodies, and he will—finally—bring us home. As Craig Bartholomew, author of Where Mortals Dwell, concludes, “One of the glories of being human and creaturely is to be implaced.”10 The “fortune” of home, as Homer puts it, is the witness of Genesis and of Revelation. God will never leave any of his children to homelessness. ~ Jen Pollock Michel,
1425:And so their spirits soared
as they took positions own the passageways of battle
all night long, and the watchfires blazed among them.
Hundreds strong, as stars in the night sky glittering
round the moon's brilliance blaze in all their glory
when the air falls to a sudden, windless calm...
all the lookout peaks stand out and the jutting cliffs
and the steep ravines and down from the high heavens bursts
the boundless bright air and all the stars shine clear
and the shepherd's heart exults - so many fires burned
between the ships and the Xanthus' whirling rapids
set by the men of Troy, bright against their walls.
A thousand fires were burning there on the plain
and beside each fire sat fifty fighting men
poised in the leaping blaze, and champing oats
and glistening barley, stationed by their chariots,
stallions waited for Dawn to mount her glowing throne. ~ Homer,
1426:Aztec peasants, Babylonian shepherds, Athenian stonemasons, and Carolingian merchants spoke different languages,2 wore different clothing, and prayed to different deities, but they all ate the same amount of food, lived the same number of years, traveled no farther—or faster—from their homes, and buried just as many of their children. Because while they made a lot more children—worldwide population grew a hundredfold between 5000 BCE and 1600 CE, from 5 to 500 million—they didn’t make much of anything else. The best estimates for human productivity (a necessarily vague number) calculate annual per capita GDP, expressed in constant 1990 U.S. dollars, fluctuating between $400 and $550 for seven thousand years. The worldwide per capita GDP in 800 BCE3—$543—is virtually identical to the number in 1600. The average person of William Shakespeare’s time lived no better than his counterpart in Homer’s. ~ William Rosen,
1427:And the solid thwack of leather and wood colliding in perfect disharmony. The first made his dick hard, the second melted his heart, and the third brought a smile to his face. Todd rounded first base, his lips curving upward as the baseball soared into the centerfield stands. He stepped on second base, vaguely aware of fans scrambling to see who would come up with the homerun ball. Rounding third, his smile faded, even though the entire Mustangs team waited just beyond home plate to celebrate his ninth inning, game-winning homer. High-fiving his teammates, he accepted their jubilant accolades, removed his batting helmet, and waved to the crowd before ducking his six-foot-two frame into the dugout that had been his home for his entire Major League career. Thinking about the yet-to-be-determined dugout he would call home next season made his stomach cramp. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he told the Mustangs team ~ Roz Lee,
1428:Aber wir wollen nicht länger in müßigem Plaudern wie Kinder
tatenlos dastehen, mitten im tobenden Schlachtengetümmel.
Zahlreiche Mängel, der Vorwürfe wert, besitzen wir beide;
selbst ein Lastkahn mit hundert Querbalken trüge sie schwerlich.
Menschliche Zungen sind äußerst gelenkig, befähigt zu vielen
Worten, und deren Feld erstreckt sich ringsum ins Weite.
Das, was du aussprichst, bekommst du auch selber wieder zu hören.
Aber wozu noch sollen wir beide mit Streiten und Schimpfen
gegenseitig erbittert uns zusetzen, so wie die Weiber,
die sich, voll Wut auf Grund der herzzernagenden Feindschaft,
häßlich beschimpfen auf offener Straße mit mancherlei wahren,
aber auch unwahren Vorwürfen, wie der Ingrimm sie eingibt!
Niemals wirst du mit Worten mein Angriffsstreben vereiteln,
ehe du mich mit der Waffe bekämpft hast; auf denn, wir wollen
schleunig einander erproben im Wurf der ehernen Lanzen! ~ Homer,
1429:And across the trench he drove the purebred team with a rough exultant laugh as comrades cheered, crowding in his wake.
And once they reached Tydides' sturdy lodge they tethered the horses there with well-cut reins, hitching them by the trough where Diomedes' stallions pawed the ground, champing their sweet barley.
Then away in his ship's stem Odysseus stowed the bloody gear of Dolon, in pledge of the gift they'd sworn to give Athena. The men themselves, wading into the sea, washed off the crusted sweat from shins and necks and thighs.
And once the surf had scoured the thick caked sweat from their limbs
and the two fighters cooled,
their hearts revived and into the polished tubs they climbed and bathed.
And rinsing off, their skin sleek with an olive oil rub, they sat down to their meal and dipping up their cups from an overflowing bowl, they poured them forth -
honeyed, mellow wine
to the great goddess Athena. ~ Homer,
1430:Pur: that one word contains for me the secret, the bright, terrible clarity of ancient Greek. How can I make you see it, this strange harsh light which pervades Homer’s landscapes and illumines the dialogues of Plato, an alien light, inarticulable in our common tongue? Our shared language is a language of the intricate, the peculiar, the home of pumpkins and ragamuffins and bodkins and beer, the tongue of Ahab and Falstaff and Mrs Gamp; and while I find it entirely suitable for reflections such as these, it fails me utterly when I attempt to describe in it what I love about Greek, that language innocent of all quirks and cranks; a language obsessed with action, and with the joy of seeing action multiply from action, action marching relentlessly ahead and with yet more actions filing in from either side fall into neat step at the rear, in a long straight rank of cause and effect toward what will be inevitable, the only possible end. ~ Donna Tartt,
1431:I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War, by not taking sides. The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek—maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people. Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use, I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
1432:I say no wealth is worth my life! Not all they claim
was stored in the depths of Troy, that city built on riches,
in the old days of peace before the sons of Achaea came-
not all the gold held fast in the Archer's rocky vaults,
in Phoebus Apollo's house on Pytho's sheer cliffs!
Cattle and fat sheep can all be had for the raiding,
tripods all for the trading, and tawny-headed stallions.
But a man's life breath cannot come back again-
no raiders in force, no trading brings it back,
once it slips through a man's clenched teeth.
Mother tells me,
the immortal goddess Thetis with her glistening feet,
that two fates bear me on to the day of death.
If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy,
my journey home is gone, but my glory never dies.
If I voyage back to the fatherland I love,
my pride, my glory dies...
true, but the life that's left me will be long,
the stroke of death will not come on me quickly. ~ Homer,
1433:The result is a dangerous lag between the natural sciences and the social sciences. The natural sciences and the technologies they spawn carry us into the future at bewildering speed, in the process remolding our understanding of ourselves and revolutionizing our relationships with each other and the natural world. The social sciences plod along behind, unable to generate fast enough the knowledge we need to build new institutions for our new world. The renowned management expert Peter Drucker sums up the problem this way: “Effective government has never been needed more than in this highly competitive and fast-changing world of ours, in which the dangers created by the pollution of the physical environment are matched only by the dangers of worldwide armaments pollution. And we do not have even the beginnings of the political theory or the political institutions needed for effective government in the knowledge-based society of organizations. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1434:Besides producing reductive scientific and religious systems, the old herding cultures produced reductive and predatory economic systems that increasingly viewed humans as economic units and led gradually to gross inequalities in the distribution of wealth. By the historic era three thousand years ago, we see in our most ancient writings such as Homer, the Old Testament, and Sumerian cuneiform writings a well-established economic system dominated by rich cattle-owning kings battling over lands for their livestock, with the masses of people reduced to mere resources who fought, produced, and consumed to benefit the wealthy elite. Early science was used to manipulate livestock bloodlines to maximize flesh, milk, and wool output, and religion was used to justify and even mandate the slaughter of animals for food. These are precisely the institutions we have inherited and that operate today and live in us because we continue to eat foods derived from reduced animals. ~ Will Tuttle,
1435:Now left to man's ingratitude he lay, Unhoused, neglected in the public way; And where on heaps the rich manure was spread, Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed. He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet; In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet; Yet (all he could) his tail, his tears, his eyes, Salute his master, and confess his joys. Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul; Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole, Stole unperceived: he turn'd his head and dried The drop humane: then thus impassion'd cried: "What noble beast in this abandon'd state Lies here all helpless at Ulysses' gate? His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise: If, as he seems, he was in better days, Some care his age deserves; or was he prized For worthless beauty? therefore now despised; Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state; And always cherish'd by their friends, the great." "Not Argus so, (Eumaeus thus rejoin'd,) But served a master of a nobler kind, Who, never, never shall behold him more! ~ Homer,
1436:I wanted it so much. So much sometimes it felt like I couldn't breathe. Sometimes I would cry, not because I was sad, but because it hurt, physical pain from the intensity of wanting something so much. I'm a good student of philosophy, I know my Stoics, Cynics, their advice, that, when a desire is so intense it hurts you, the healthy path is to detach, unwant it, let it go. The healthy thing for the self. But there are a lot of reasons one can want to be an author: acclaim, wealth, self-respect, finding a community, the finite immortality of name in print, so many more. But I wanted it to add my voice to the Great Conversation, to reply to Diderot, Voltaire, Osamu Tezuka, and Alfred Bester, so people would read my books and think new things, and make new things from those thoughts, my little contribution to the path which flows from Gilgamesh and Homer to the stars. And that isn't just for me. It's for you. Which means it was the right choice to hang on to the desire, even when it hurt so much. ~ Ada Palmer,
1437:Human nature really hasn’t changed much throughout history; shame and honor were as big a deal in the ancient world as they are today. Back in the ninth century B.C., the epic poet Homer wrote, “The chief good was to be well spoken of, the chief evil, to be badly spoken of by one’s society.” In the first century A.D., the apostle Paul ministered in a shame-sensitive, honor-seeking culture, shamelessly preaching a shameful message about a publicly shamed person. And so the message was offensive. It was scandalous. It was stupid. It was foolish. It was moronic. Yet, as 1 Corinthians 1:21 says, “it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe.” It was this scandalous, offensive, foolish, ridiculous, bizarre, absurd message of the cross that God used to save those who believe. Roman authorities executed His Son, the Lord of the world, by a method they reserved only for the dregs of society; His followers had to be faithful enough to risk meeting the same shameful end. ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
1438:It is always as it was between Achilles and Homer: one person has the experience, the sensation, the other describes it. A real writer only gives words to the affects and experiences of others; he is an artist in divining a great deal from the little that he has felt. Artist are by no means people of great passion, but they frequently present themselves as such, unconsciously sensing that others give greater credence to the passions they portray if the artist's own life testifies to his experience in this area. We need only let ourselves go, not control ourselves, give free play to our wrath or our desire, and the whole world immediately cries: how passionate he is! But there really is something significant in a deeply gnawing passion that consumes and often swallows up an individual: whoever experiences this surely does not describe it in dramas, music, or novels. Artists are frequently unbridled individuals, insofar, that is, as they are not artists: but that is something different. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
1439:Gustav Richter
After a long day of work in my hot-houses
Sleep was sweet, but if you sleep on your left side
Your dreams may be abruptly ended.
I was among my flowers where some one
Seemed to be raising them on trial,
As if after-while to be transplanted
To a larger garden of freer air.
And I was disembodied vision
Amid a light, as it were the sun
Had floated in and touched the roof of glass
Like a toy balloon and softly bursted,
And etherealized in golden air.
And all was silence, except the splendor
Was immanent with thought as clear
As a speaking voice, and I, as thought,
Could hear a Presence think as he walked
Between the boxes pinching off leaves,
Looking for bugs and noting values,
With an eye that saw it all: -"Homer, oh yes! Pericles, good.
Caesar Borgia, what shall be done with it?
Dante, too much manure, perhaps.
Napoleon, leave him awhile as yet.
Shelley, more soil. Shakespeare, needs spraying --"
Clouds, eh! -~ Edgar Lee Masters,
1440:When, in the morning at sunrise, I go out to Walheim, and with my own hands gather in the garden the peas which are to serve for my dinner, when I sit down to shell them, and read my Homer during the intervals, and then, selecting a saucepan from the kitchen, fetch my own butter, put my mess on the fire, cover it up, and sit down to stir it as occasion requires, I figure to myself the illustrious suitors of Penelope, killing, dressing, and preparing their own oxen and swine. Nothing fills me with a more pure and genuine sense of happiness than those traits of patriarchal life which, thank Heaven! I can imitate without affectation. Happy is it, indeed, for me that my heart is capable of feeling the same simple and innocent pleasure as the peasant whose table is covered with food of his own rearing, and who not only enjoys his meal, but remembers with delight the happy days and sunny mornings when he planted it, the soft evenings when he watered it, and the pleasure he experienced in watching its daily growth. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
1441:It's both relaxing and invigorating to occasionally set aside the worries of life, seek the company of a friendly book and mingle with the great of the earth, counsel with the wise of all time, look into unlived days with prophets. Youth will delight in the heroic figures of Homer; or more modern, will thrill to the silent courage of Florence Nightingale on the battlefield...The power of Cicero's oratory may awaken new ambitions in the middle age, or the absurdity of Don Quixote riding mightily against a windmill may make your own pretentiousness seem ridiculous; if you think the world is against you, get the satisfaction of walking the streets of Athens with Diogenes, lantern in hand in broad daylight in search of an honest man...From the reading of 'good books' there comes a richness of life that can be obtained in no other way. It is not enough to read newspapers...But to become acquainted with real nobility as walks the pages of history and science and literature is to strengthen character and develop life in its finer meanings. ~ Gordon B Hinckley,
1442:As ingenuity gaps widen the gulfs of wealth and power among us, we need imagination, metaphor and empathy more than ever, to help us remember each other’s essential humanity. I believe this will be the central challenge of the coming century—one that will shape everything else about who we are and what we become. Anatol Rapoport, a pioneering mathematical psychologist and one of the wisest people I have ever known, once told me: “The moral development of a civilization is measured by the breadth of its sense of community.” Have we paid enough attention to the moral development of the global civilization we are creating today? A sense of community, of shared humanity, isn’t the only thing we need. If we’re to maintain and improve our civilization in the next century, we also need to close, as best we can, those ingenuity gaps that debilitate people and societies. And here a final metaphor—the metaphor of flight—may point us in the right direction. The idea of flight wound its way through my entire quest to piece together the ingenuity puzzle. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1443:In fact, reading is a discipline: like running regularly, or meditating, or taking voice lessons. Any able adult can run across the backyard, but this ability to put one foot in front of another shouldn’t make him think that he can tackle a marathon without serious, time-consuming training. Most of us can manage to sing “Happy Birthday” or the Doxology when called for, but this doesn’t incline us to march down to the local performing arts center and try out for the lead in Aida. Yet because we can read the newspaper or Time or Stephen King without difficulty, we tend to think that we should be able to go directly into Homer or Henry James without any further preparation. And when we stumble, grow confused or weary, we take this as proof of our mental inadequacy: We’ll never be able to read the Great Books. The truth is that the study of literature requires different skills than reading for pleasure. The inability to tackle, unaided, a list of Great Books and stick to the project doesn’t demonstrate mental inadequacy—just a lack of preparation. ~ Susan Wise Bauer,
1444:At the end of the process a decisive defeat in war may bring a final blow, or barbarian invasion from without may combine with barbarism from within to bring the civilization to a close.
Is this a depressing picture? Not quite. Life has no inherent claim to eternity, whether in individuals or in states. Death is natural, and if it comes in due time it is forgivable and useful, and the mature mind will take no offense from its coming. But do civilizations die? Again, not quite. Greek civilization is not really dead; only its frame is gone and its habitat has changed and spread; it survives in the memory of the race, and in such abundance that no one life, however full and long, could absorb it all. Homer has more readers now than in his own day and land. The Greek poets and philosophers are in every library and college; at this moment Plato is being studied by a hundred thousand discoverers of the "dear delight" of philosophy overspreading life with understanding thought. This selective survival of creative minds is the most real and beneficent of immortalities. ~ Will Durant,
1445:Tell me what you are looking at right now.” Malory smacked his lips — he was really the absolute worst human to speak to on the telephone — and considered. “I’m looking at, what does this seem to be? West of England Tumbler, I should think. Yes. Lovely example. You should see his muffs. Right next to him is a dreadful little Thuringen Field Pigeon. I’ve never had them but I’m quite certain they aren’t meant to have that hideous stallion neck. I have no idea what this one is. Let’s read the card. Anatolian Ringbeater. Of course. Oh, and here’s a German Beauty Homer.” “Oh, those are my favorite,” Gansey said. “I am a fan of a good German Beauty Homer.” “Gansey, don’t make light,” Malory said sternly. “Those things look like bloody puffins.” Adam’s body shook in silent convulsions of laughter. Gansey took a moment to catch his breath before asking, “And what’s that sound in the background?” “Let me take a gander,” Malory replied. There was a crackling sound, and then his voice, rather louder than before, said, “They’re auctioning off some birds.” “What sort? Please tell me German Beauty Homers. ~ Maggie Stiefvater,
1446:But for now, if
we have been right in how we investigated and what we said, virtue turns out to be
neither innate nor earned. It is something that comes to those who possess it as a free
gift from the gods – with understanding not included; unless, that is, you can point to
some statesmen who could make another man a statesman. If there were such a one, he
could be said to rank among the living as Homer said Teiresias ranked among the dead:
namely, ‘he alone kept his wits collected while the others flitted about like shadows.’
In the same way such a man would, as far as virtue is concerned, stand forth as
someone of substance – opposed, as it were, to mere shadows.

M: I think that is an excellent way to put it, Socrates

S: It follows from this whole line of reasoning, Meno, that virtue appears present in
those who have it only as a gift from the gods. We will only really know about this,
however, if and when we try to investigate what virtue itself is – an investigation that
must come before that of how it comes to be in men. But the time has come for me to go. ~ Plato,
1447:Yet if the only form of tradition, of handing down, consisted in following the ways of the immediate generation before us in a blind or timid adherence to its successes, “tradition” should positively be discouraged. We have seen many such simple currents soon lost in the sand; and novelty is better than repetition. Tradition is a matter of much wider significance. It cannot be inherited, and if you want it you must obtain it by great labour...the historical sense involves a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence; the historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of the literature of Europe from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order. This historical sense, which is a sense of the timeless as well as of the temporal and of the timeless and of the temporal together, is what makes a writer traditional. And it is at the same time what makes a writer most acutely conscious of his place in time, of his contemporaneity. ~ T S Eliot,
1448:But first, he knew he had to apologize for hurting Dr. Larch’s feelings – it had all just slipped out of him, and it made him almost cry to think that he had cause Dr. Larch any suffering. He went straight across the hall to the dispensary, where he could see what he thought were Dr. Larch’s feet extending off the foot of the dispensary bed; the dispensary medicine cabinets blocked the rest of the bed from view. He spoke to Dr. Larch’s feet, which to Homer’s surprise were larger than he remembered them; he was also surprised that Dr. Larch – a neat man – had left his shows on and that his shoes were muddy.
‘Doctor Larch?’ Homer said. ‘I’m sorry.’ When there was no response, Homer thought crossly to himself that Dr. Larch was under an unusually ill-timed ether sedation.
‘I’m sorry, and I love you,’ Homer added, a little louder. He held his breath, listening for Larch’s breathing, which he couldn’t hear; alarmed, he stepped around the cabinets and saw the lifeless stationmaster stretched out on Larch’s bed. It did not occur to Homer that this had been the first time someone had said ‘I love you’ to the stationmaster. ~ John Irving,
1449:Whatever Happened?
What happened?
To the land of Oedipus tragedy is nothing new.
Do the gods of the Olympus still thirst for war?
Do they try to hypnotize
The cattle-rearing youth
By displaying the neutron bomb?
Remember the time before Alexander's
Expedition of triumph?
Remember too the cursed centuries
That followed?
Will Agamemnon ever come back?
Kill him if he does.
Will Clytemnestra be a party
To the murderous act?
Kill her outright, if she is.
She screams, the sister
Of the son who killed his mother
Who had killed her fatherThat scream reverberates over the sea
And on the hill.
When the night shrieks,
The tongue splits.
When the murder cry is heard
It splits the ear.
O Hellas that seeks to be reborn,
Hellas that had once left her husband for good,
And, having had enough of it,
Now returns from her lover.
To blind Homer
You are still the beloved daughter.
Penelope welcoming Odysseus
Who had sailed home in the gentle wind.
The dog still remembering his master.
Where have they all vanished?
~ Ayyappa Paniker,
1450:Homer's Hymn to Castor and Pollux

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.

Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twins of Jove,
Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed in love
With mighty Saturn's Heaven-obscuring Child,
On Taygetus, that lofty mountain wild,
Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux, void of blame,
And steed-subduing Castor, heirs of fame.
These are the Powers who earth-born mortals save
And ships, whose flight is swift along the wave.
When wintry tempests o'er the savage sea
Are raging, and the sailors tremblingly
Call on the Twins of Jove with prayer and vow,
Gathered in fear upon the lofty prow,
And sacrifice with snow-white lambs,—the wind
And the huge billow bursting close behind,
Even then beneath the weltering waters bear
The staggering ship—they suddenly appear,
On yellow wings rushing athwart the sky,
And lull the blasts in mute tranquillity,
And strew the waves on the white Ocean's bed,
Fair omen of the voyage; from toil and dread
The sailors rest, rejoicing in the sight,
And plough the quiet sea in safe delight. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
1451:Paris alfo is faid to have been appointed a judge of Miiierva, Juno and Venus; and that of three lives which were propofed to him, he chofe the amatory life: and this not w^ith prudence, but recurrii-^ to apparent beauty, and purfuing the mm^ o£ that beauty which is intelligible. For he who is truly amatory, taking i)ntellc6^ and prudence for his guides, and with thefe contemplating both true and apparent beauty, is ao lefs the votary of Minerva than of Venus. But he who alone purfues the amatory form of life by itfelf, and this accompanied with pafiion, deferts true beauty, but CONTAINING AN APOLOGY FOR THE FABLES OF HOMER. i6« but through folly and luxury leaps to the image of beauty, lies about it in a fallen condition, and does not attain to a perfedlioa adapted to an amatory charafter. For he who is truly amatory and ftudious of Venus, is led to divine beauty, and defpifes all that is beairtiflil in the regions of fenfe. Since however there are certain daemons with the charaderiftics of Venus, who prcfide over apparent beanty, and which fubfifts in matter, hence he who embraces the image of beauty, is faid to have Venus cooperating with him in all his undertakings, ~ Anonymous,
1452:The Prince’s name preserved, in the boldness with which its opening syllables were—to borrow an expression from music—attacked, and in the stammering repetition that scanned them, the energy, the mannered simplicity, the heavy refinements of the Teutonic race, projected like green boughs over the “Heim” of dark blue enamel which glowed with the mystic light of Rhenish window behind the pale and finely wrought gildings of the German eighteenth century. This name included, among the several names of which it was composed, that of a little German watering-place to which as a small child I had gone with my grandmother, under a mountain honoured by the feet of Goethe, from the vineyards of which we used to drink at the Kurhof the illustrious vintages with their compound and sonorous names like the epithets which Homer applies to his heroes. And so, scarcely had I heard it spoken than, before I had recalled the watering-place, the Prince’s name seemed to shrink, to become imbued with humanity, to find large enough for itself a little place in my memory to which it clung, familiar, earthbound, picturesque, appetizing, light, with something about it that was authorized, prescribed. ~ Marcel Proust,
1453:We were nobodies, two young lit. students chatting away in a rickety old house in a small town at the edge of the world, a place where nothing of any significance had ever happened and presumably never would, we had barely started out on our lives and knew nothing about anything, but what we read was not nothing, it concerned matters of the utmost significance and was written by the greatest thinkers and writers in Western culture, and that was basically a miracle, all you had to do was fill in a library lending slip and you had access to what Plato, Sappho or Aristophanes had written in the incomprehensibly distant mists of time, or Homer, Sophocles, Ovid, Lucullus, Lucretius or Dante, Vasari, da Vinci, Montaigne, Shakespeare, Cervantes or Kant, Hegel, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Lukács, Arendt or those who wrote in the modern day, Foucault, Barthes, Lévi-Strauss, Deleuze, Serres. Not to mention the millions of novels, plays and collections of poetry which were available. All one lending slip and a few days away. We didn’t read any of these to be able to summarise the contents, as we did with the literature on the syllabus, but because they could give us something. ~ Karl Ove Knausg rd,
1454:They will begin by taking the State and the manners of men, from which, as from a tablet, they will rub out the picture, and leave a clean surface. This is no easy task. But whether easy or not, herein will lie the difference between them and every other legislator,—they will have nothing to do either with individual or State, and will inscribe no laws, until they have either found, or themselves made, a clean surface. They will be very right, he said. Having effected this, they will proceed to trace an outline of the constitution? No doubt. And when they are filling in the work, as I conceive, they will often turn their eyes upwards and downwards: I mean that they will first look at absolute justice and beauty and temperance, and again at the human copy; and will mingle and temper the various elements of life into the image of a man; and this they will conceive according to that other image, which, when existing among men, Homer calls the form and likeness of God. Very true, he said. And one feature they will erase, and another they will put in, until they have made the ways of men, as far as possible, agreeable to the ways of God? Indeed, he said, in no way could they make a fairer picture. And ~ Plato,
Like the foghorn that's all lung,
the wind chime that's all percussion,
like the wind itself, that's merely air
in a terrible fret, without so much
as a finger to articulate
what ails it, the aeolian
syrinx, that reed
in the throat of a bird,
when it comes to the shaping of
what we call consonants, is
too imprecise for consensus
about what it even seems to
be saying: is it o-ka-lee
or con-ka-ree, is it really jug jug,
is it cuckoo for that matter? —
much less whether a bird's call
means anything in
particular, or at all.
Syntax comes last, there can be
no doubt of it: came last,
can be thought of (is
thought of by some) as a
higher form of expression:
is, in extremity, first to
be jettisoned: as the diva
onstage, all soaring
pectoral breathwork,
takes off, pure vowel
breaking free of the dry,
the merely fricative
husk of the particular, rises
past saying anything, any
more than the wind in
the trees, waves breaking,
or Homer's gibbering
Thespesiae iache:
those last-chance vestiges
above the threshold, the allbut dispossessed of breath.
~ Amy Clampitt,
1456:Sonnet Suggested By Homer, Chaucer, Shakespeare,
Edgar Allan Poe, Paul Vakzy, James Joyce, Et Al.
Let me not, ever, to the marriage in Cana
Of Galilee admit the slightest sentiment
Of doubt about the astonishing and sustaining manna
Of chance and choice to throw a shadow's element
Of disbelief in truth -- Love is not love
Nor is the love of love its truth in consciousness
If it can be made hesitant by any crow or dove or
seeming angel or demon from above or from below
Or made more than it is knows itself to be by the authority
of any ministry of love.
O no -- it is the choice of chances and the chancing of
all choice -- the wine
which was the water may be sickening, unsatisfying or
A new barbiturate drawn from the fattest flower
That prospers green on Lethe's shore. For every hour
Denies or once again affirms the vow and the ultimate
Of aspiration which made Ulysses toil so far away from
And then, for years, strive against every wanton desire,
sea and fire, to return across the.
ever-threatening seas
A journey forever far beyond all the vivid eloquence
of every poet and all poetry.
~ Delmore Schwartz,
1457:Homer's Hymn to the Sun

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.

Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once more
To the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour;
Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and Earth
Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth;
Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair
Of great Hyperion, who to him did bear
A race of loveliest children; the young Morn,
Whose arms are like twin roses newly born,
The fair-haired Moon, and the immortal Sun,
Who borne by heavenly steeds his race doth run
Unconquerably, illuming the abodes
Of mortal Men and the eternal Gods.

Fiercely look forth his awe-inspiring eyes,
Beneath his golden helmet, whence arise
And are shot forth afar, clear beams of light;
His countenance, with radiant glory bright,
Beneath his graceful locks far shines around,
And the light vest with which his limbs are bound,
Of woof aethereal delicately twined,
Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind.
His rapid steeds soon bear him to the West;
Where their steep flight his hands divine arrest,
And the fleet car with yoke of gold, which he
Sends from bright Heaven beneath the shadowy sea ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
1458:Homer, in the second book of the Iliad says with fine enthusiasm, "Give me masturbation or give me death." Caesar, in his Commentaries, says, "To the lonely it is company; to the forsaken it is a friend; to the aged and to the impotent it is a benefactor. They that are penniless are yet rich, in that they still have this majestic diversion." In another place this experienced observer has said, "There are times when I prefer it to sodomy." Robinson Crusoe says, "I cannot describe what I owe to this gentle art." Queen Elizabeth said, "It is the bulwark of virginity." Cetewayo, the Zulu hero, remarked, "A jerk in the hand is worth two in the bush." The immortal Franklin has said, "Masturbation is the best policy." Michelangelo and all of the other old masters--"old masters," I will remark, is an abbreviation, a contraction--have used similar language. Michelangelo said to Pope Julius II, "Self-negation is noble, self-culture beneficent, self-possession is manly, but to the truly great and inspiring soul they are poor and tame compared with self-abuse." Mr. Brown, here, in one of his latest and most graceful poems, refers to it in an eloquent line which is destined to live to the end of time--"None knows it but to love it; none name it but to praise. ~ Mark Twain,
1459:What is this strange touch?"
With a start, Jesse realized that Rides the Wind had awakened. He lay watching her closely.Feeling shy she pulled the buffalo robe up under her chin, answering softly, "My people say 'kiss.'"
"And who gives this 'kiss'?"
"Parents to children, husband to wife."
"Show me." As he said it he leaned toward her. Jesse obediently placed a kiss upon the wind-hardened cheek.
He kept his face near hers and the dark eyes searched hers.Then a knowing smile curled up the edges of his mouth. "When Marcus Whitman met with Running Bear and the traders,Rides the Wind was there.I saw many things.I saw this touch you call 'kiss' between man and woman.It was not here," he tapped his cheek, "but here." His finger indicated his mouth.
Jesse felt her face flush and wondered if the early morning light revealed her embarrassment. She assented, "Yes,for some it is so."
"Did Jesse King and Homer King touch in this ay?"
Jesse looked hard into the searching eyes.They returned her stare with honest interest. "My people do not speak of these things."
Rides the Wind was quiet for a moment, pondering her response. "If the white man speaks not of what is here," he laid a hand flat upon the tawny chest, "he must be very sad. ~ Stephanie Grace Whitson,
1460:The eye of the spirit can nowhere find more dazzling brilliance and more shadow than in man; it can fix itself on no other thing which is more formidable, more complicated, more mysterious, and more infinite. There is a spectacle more grand than the sea; it is heaven: there is a spectacle more grand than heaven; it is the inmost recesses of the soul.

To make the poem of the human conscience, were it only with reference to a single man, were it only in connection with the basest of men, would be to blend all epics into one superior and definitive epic. Conscience is the chaos of chimeras, of lusts, and of temptations; the furnace of dreams; the lair of ideas of which we are ashamed; it is the pandemonium of sophisms; it is the battlefield of the passions. Penetrate, at certain hours, past the livid face of a human being who is engaged in reflection, and look behind, gaze into that soul, gaze into that obscurity. There, beneath that external silence, battles of giants, like those recorded in Homer, are in progress; skirmishes of dragons and hydras and swarms of phantoms, as in Milton; visionary circles, as in Dante. What a solemn thing is this infinity which every man bears within him, and which he measures with despair against the caprices of his brain and the actions of his life! ~ Victor Hugo,
1461:What Pascal overlooked was the hair-raising possibility that God might out-Luther Luther. A special area in hell might be reserved for those who go to mass. Or God might punish those whose faith is prompted by prudence. Perhaps God prefers the abstinent to those who whore around with some denomination he despises. Perhaps he reserves special rewards for those who deny themselves the comfort of belief. Perhaps the intellectual ascetic will win all while those who compromised their intellectual integrity lose everything.

There are many other possibilities. There might be many gods, including one who favors people like Pascal; but the other gods might overpower or outvote him, à la Homer. Nietzsche might well have applied to Pascal his cutting remark about Kant: when he wagered on God, the great mathematician 'became an idiot. ~ Walter Kaufmann,
1462:As I contemplated the silent world before me, I thought of the many romantic ideas attached to blindness. Ideas of unusual sensitivity and genius were evoked by the names of Milton, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Borges, Ray Charles; to lose physical sight, it is thought, is to gain second sight. One door closes and another, greater one, opens. Homer’s blindness, many believe, is a kind of spiritual channel, a shortcut to the gifts of memory and of prophecy. When I was a child in Lagos, there was a blind, wandering bard, a man who was held in the greatest awe for his spiritual gifts. When he sang his songs, he left each person with the feeling that, in hearing him, they had somehow touched the numinous, or been touched by it. Once, in a crowded market at Ojuelegba, sometime in the early eighties, I saw him. It was from quite a distance, but I remember (or imagine that I remember) his large yellow eyes, calcified to a gray color at the pupils, his frightening mien, and the big, dirty mantle he wore. He sang in a plaintive and high-pitched voice, in deep, proverbial Yoruba that was impossible for me to follow. Afterward, I imagined that I had seen something like an aura around him, a spiritual apartness that moved all his hearers to reach into their purses and put something in the bowl his assistant boy carried. ~ Teju Cole,
1463:Those who have not learned to read the ancient classics in the language in which they were written must have a very imperfect knowledge of the history of the human race; for it is remarkable that no transcript of them has ever been made into any modern tongue, unless our civilization itself may be regarded as such a transcript. Homer has never yet been printed in English, nor Æschylus, nor Virgil even—works as refined, as solidly done, and as beautiful almost as the morning itself; for later writers, say what we will of their genius, have rarely, if ever, equalled the elaborate beauty and finish and the lifelong and heroic literary labors of the ancients. They only talk of forgetting them who never knew them. It will be soon enough to forget them when we have the learning and the genius which will enable us to attend to and appreciate them. That age will be rich indeed when those relics which we call Classics, and the still older and more than classic but even less known Scriptures of the nations, shall have still further accumulated, when the Vaticans shall be filled with Vedas and Zendavestas and Bibles, with Homers and Dantes and Shakespeares, and all the centuries to come shall have successively deposited their trophies in the forum of the world. By such a pile we may hope to scale heaven at last. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1464:Huxley: "Tell me something Bryce, do you know the difference between a Jersey, a Guernsey, a Holstein, and an Ayershire?"
Bryce: "No."
Huxley: "Seabags Brown does."
Bryce: "I don't see what that has to do..."
Huxley: "What do you know about Gaelic history?"
Bryce: "Not much."
Huxley: "Then why don't you sit down one day with Gunner McQuade. He is an expert. Speaks the language, too."
Bryce: "I don't..."
Huxley: " What do you know about astronomy?"
Bryce: "A little."
Huxley: "Discuss it with Wellman, he held a fellowship."
Bryce: "This is most puzzling."
Huxley: "What about Homer, ever read Homer?"
Bryce: "Of course I've read Homer."
Huxley: "In the original Greek?"
Bryce: "No"
Huxley: "Then chat with Pfc. Hodgkiss. Loves to read the ancient Greek."
Bryce: "Would you kindly get to the point?"
Huxley: "The point is this, Bryce. What makes you think you are so goddam superior? Who gave you the bright idea that you had a corner on the world's knowledge? There are privates in this battalion who can piss more brains down a slit trench then you'll ever have. You're the most pretentious, egotistical individual I've ever encountered. Your superiority complex reeks. I've seen the way you treat men, like a big strutting peacock. Why, you've had them do everything but wipe your ass. ~ Leon Uris,
1465:Yet nothing can be more certain than this: what makes a poet a poet is the fact that he sees himself surrounded by figures who live and act before him, and into whose innermost essence he gazes. Because of the peculiar weakness of modern talent we are inclined to imagine the original aesthetic phenomenon in too complicated and abstract a manner. For the genuine poet metaphor is no rhetorical figure, but an image which takes the place of something else, something he can really see before him as a substitute for a concept. To the poet a character is not a whole composed of selected single features, but an insistently alive person whom he sees before his very eyes, and distinguished from a painter's vision of the same thing only by the fact that poet sees the figure continuing to live and act over a period of time. What allows Homer to depict things so much more vividly than all other poets? It is the fact that he looks at things so much more than they do. We talk so abstractly about poetry because we are usually all bad poets. Fundamentally the aesthetic phenomenon is simple; one only has to have the ability to watch a living play continuously and to live constantly surrounded by crowds of spirits, then one is a poet; if one feels the impulse to transform oneself and to speak out of other bodies and souls, then one is a dramatist ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
1466:What remains?
Our children?
Homer touched the flame of the candle with his fingers. The answer wasn’t easy to find for him,
Achmed’s words still hurt him. He himself had been damned to be without children, unable for this kind
of immortality, so he couldn’t do anything but choose another path to immortatlity.
Again he reached for his pen.
They can look like us. In their reflection we mirror ourselves in a mysterious way. United with
those we had loved. In their gestures, in their mimics we happily find ourselves or with sorrow.
Friends confirm that our sons and daughters are just like us. Maybe that gives us a certain
extension of ourselves when we are no more.
We ourselves weren’t the first. We have been made from countless copies that have been
before us, just another chimera, always half from our fathers and mothers who are again the half of
their parents. So is there nothing unique in us but are we just an endless mixture of small mosaic parts
that never endingly exist in us? Have we been formed out of millions of small parts to a complete
picture that has no own worth and has to fall into its parts again?
Does it even matter to be happy if we found ourselves in our children, a certain line that has
been traveling through our bodies for millions of years?
What remains of me? ~ Dmitry Glukhovsky,
1467:Heilner went on: "Yes, things were certainly different then. Who knows anything about things like that around here? All these bores and cowards who grind away and work their fingers to the bone and don't realize that there's something higher than the Hebrew alphabet. You're no different."

Hans kept silent. This Heilner fellow certainly was a strange one. A romantic, a poet. As everyone knew, he worked hardly at all and still he knew quite a bit, he knew how to give good answers, and at the same time despised his learning.

“We're reading Homer," he went on in the same mocking tone, "as though the Odyssey were a cookbook. Two verses an hour and then the whole thing is masticated word by word and inspected until you're ready to throw up. But at the end of the hour the professor will say: 'Notice how nicely the poet has turned this phrase! This has afforded you an insight into the secret of poetic creativity!' Just like a little icing around the aorists and particles so you won't choke on them completely. I don't have any use for that kind of Homer. Anyway, what does all this old Greek stuff matter to us? If one of us ever tried to live a little like a Greek, he'd be out on his tail. And our room is called 'Hellas'! Pure mockery! Why isn't it called 'wastepaper basket' or 'monkey cage' or 'sweatshop'? All this classical stuff is a big fake. ~ Hermann Hesse,
1468:Finer feeling, which we now wish to consider, is chiefly of two kinds: the feeling of the *sublime* and that of the *beautiful*. The stirring of each is pleasant, but in different ways. The sight of a mountain whose snow-covered peak rises above the clouds, the description of a raging storm, or Milton's portrayal of the infernal kingdom, arouse enjoyment but with horror; on the other hand, the sight of flower strewn meadows, valleys with winding brooks and covered with grazing flocks, the description of Elysium, or Homer's portrayal of the girdle of Venus, also occasion a pleasant sensation but one that is joyous and smiling. In order that the former impression could occur to us in due strength, we must have *a feeling of the sublime*, and, in order to enjoy the latter well, *a feeling of the beautiful*. Tall oaks and lonely shadows in a sacred grove are sublime; flower beds, low hedges and trees trimmed in figures are beautiful. Night is sublime; day is beautiful. Temperaments that possess a feeling for the sublime are drawn gradually, by the quiet stillness of a summer evening as the shimmering light of the stars breaks through the brown shadows of night and the lonely moon rises into view, into high feelings of friendship, of disdain for the world, of eternity. The shining day stimulates busy fervor and a feeling of gaiety. The sublime *moves*, the beautiful *charms*. ~ Immanuel Kant,
1469:The World’s Justice
If the sudden tidings came
That on some far, foreign coast,
Buried ages long from fame,
Had been found a remnant lost
Of that hoary race who dwelt
By the golden Nile divine,
Spake the Pharaoh's tongue and knelt
At the moon-crowned Isis' shrineHow at reverend Egypt's feet,
Pilgrims from all lands would meet!
If the sudden news were known,
That anigh the desert-place
Where once blossomed Babylon,
Scions of a mighty race
Still survived, of giant build,
Huntsmen, warriors, priest and sage,
Whose ancestral fame had filled,
Trumpet-tongued, the earlier age,
How at old Assyria's feet
Pilgrims from all lands would meet!
Yet when Egypt's self was young,
And Assyria's bloom unworn,
Ere the mythic Homer sung,
Ere the gods of Greece were born,
Lived the nation of one God,
Priests of freedom, sons of Shem,
Never quelled by yoke or rod,
Founders of JerusalemIs there one abides to-day,
Seeker of dead cities, say!
Answer, now as then, THEY ARE;
Scattered broadcast o'er the lands,
Knit in spirit nigh and far,
With indissoluble bands.
Half the world adores their God,
They the living law proclaim,
And their guerdon is-the rod,
Stripes and scourgings, death and shame.
Still on Israel's head forlorn,
Every nation heaps its scorn.
~ Emma Lazarus,
1470:We have been dreaming of robots since Homer. In Book 18 of the Iliad , Achilles’ mother, the nymph Thetis, wants to order a new suit of armor for her son, and so she pays a visit to the Olympian atelier of the blacksmith-god Hephaestus, whom she finds hard at work on a series of automata: . . . He was crafting twenty tripods to stand along the walls of his well-built manse, affixing golden wheels to the bottom of each one so they might wheel down on their own [automatoi] to the gods’ assembly and then return to his house anon: an amazing sight to see. These are not the only animate household objects to appear in the Homeric epics. In Book 5 of the Iliad we hear that the gates of Olympus swivel on their hinges of their own accord, automatai , to let gods in their chariots in or out, thus anticipating by nearly thirty centuries the automatic garage door. In Book 7 of the Odyssey , Odysseus finds himself the guest of a fabulously wealthy king whose palace includes such conveniences as gold and silver watchdogs, ever alert, never aging. To this class of lifelike but intellectually inert household helpers we might ascribe other automata in the classical tradition. In the Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes, a third-century-BC epic about Jason and the Argonauts, a bronze giant called Talos runs three times around the island of Crete each day, protecting Zeus’s beloved Europa: a primitive home alarm system. ~ Anonymous,
1471:Well, the black man has functioned in the white man's world as a fixed star, as an immovable pillar: and as he moves out of his place, heaven and earth are shaken to their foundations. You, don't be afraid. I said that it was intended that you should perish in the ghetto, perish by never being allowed to go behind the white man's definitions, by never being allowed to spell your proper name. You have, and many of us have, defeated this intention; and, by a terrible law, a terrible paradox, those innocents who believed that your imprisonment made them safe are losing their grasp of reality. But these men are your brothers - your lost, younger brothers. And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it. For this is your home, my friend, do not be driven from it; great men have done great things here, and will again, and we can make America what America must become. It will be hard, James, but you come from sturdy, peasant stock, men who picked cotton and damned rivers and built railroads, and, in the teeth of the most terrifying odds, achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity. You come from a long line of great poets, some of the greatest poets since Homer. One of them said, The very time I thought I was lost, My dungeon shook and my chains fell off. ~ James Baldwin,
1472:I thought to myself, who is this excellent man Van Doren who being employed to teach literature, teaches just that: talks about writing and about books and poems and plays: does not get off on a tangent about the biographies of the poets or novelists: does not read into their poems a lot of subjective messages which were never there? Who is this man who does not have to fake and cover up a big gulf of ignorance by teaching a lot of opinions and conjectures and useless facts that belong to some other subject? Who is this who really loves what he has to teach, and does not secretly detest all literature, and abhor poetry, while pretending to be a professor of it?...It was because of this virtual scholasticism of Mark's that he would never permit himself to fall into the naive errors of those who try to read some favorite private doctrine into every poet they like of ever nation or every age. And Mark abhorred the smug assurance with which second-rate left-wing critics find adumbrations of dialectical materialism in everyone who ever wrote from Homer and Shakespeare to whomever they happen to like in recent times. If the poet is to their fancy, then he is clearly seen to be preaching the class struggle. If they do not like him, then they are able to show that he was really a forefather of fascism. And all their literary heroes are revolutionary leaders, and all their favorite villains are capitalists and Nazis. ~ Thomas Merton,
1473:Homer's Hymn to the Earth: Mother of All
O universal Mother, who dost keep
From everlasting thy foundations deep,
Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!
All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,
All things that fly, or on the ground divine
Live, move, and there are nourished—these are thine;
These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee
Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree
Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!

The life of mortal men beneath thy sway
Is held; thy power both gives and takes away!
Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish;
All things unstinted round them grow and flourish.
For them, endures the life-sustaining field
Its load of harvest, and their cattle yield
Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled.
Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free,
The homes of lovely women, prosperously;
Their sons exult in youth’s new budding gladness,
And their fresh daughters free from care or sadness,
With bloom-inwoven dance and happy song,
On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among,
Leap round them sporting--such delights by thee
Are given, rich Power, revered Divinity.

Mother of gods, thou Wife of starry Heaven,
Farewell! be thou propitious, and be given
A happy life for this brief melody,
Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
1474:Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
    And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
    Round many western islands have I been
  Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
  Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
    That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
    Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
  Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
  Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
    When a new planet swims into his ken;
  Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
    He star'd at the Pacific -- and all his men
  Look'd at each other with a wild surmise --
    Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
'Charles Cowden Clarke says, in the article in The Gentleman's Magazine [Feb. 1874], that this sonnet was sent to him by Keats so as to reach him at 10 o'clock one morning when they two had parted "at day-spring" after a night encounter with a copy of Chapman's Homer belonging to Mr. Alsager of The Times. Mr. F. Locker possess an undated manuscript of the sonnet in Keast's writing, headed "On the first looking into Chapman's Homer;" while in Tom Keats's copy-book the heading is "Sonnet on looking into Chapman's Homer," and the date "1816." ~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
~ John Keats, Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapmans Homer
1475:NOTHING should more deeply shame the modern student than the recency and inadequacy of his acquaintance with India. Here is a vast peninsula of nearly two million square miles; two-thirds as large as the United States, and twenty times the size of its master, Great Britain; 320,000,000 souls, more than in all North and South America combined, or one-fifth of the population of the earth; an impressive continuity of development and civilization from Mohenjo-daro, 2900 B.C. or earlier, to Gandhi, Raman and Tagore; faiths compassing every stage from barbarous idolatry to the most subtle and spiritual pantheism; philosophers playing a thousand variations on one monistic theme from the Upanishads eight centuries before Christ to Shankara eight centuries after him; scientists developing astronomy three thousand years ago, and winning Nobel prizes in our own time; a democratic constitution of untraceable antiquity in the villages, and wise and beneficent rulers like Ashoka and Akbar in the capitals; minstrels singing great epics almost as old as Homer, and poets holding world audiences today; artists raising gigantic temples for Hindu gods from Tibet to Ceylon and from Cambodia to Java, or carving perfect palaces by the score for Mogul kings and queens—this is the India that patient scholarship is now opening up, like a new intellectual continent, to that Western mind which only yesterday thought civilization an exclusively European thing.I ~ Will Durant,
1476:Homer's Hymn to the Moon

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.
Daughters of Jove, whose voice is melody,
Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy
Sing the wide-winged Moon! Around the earth,
From her immortal head in Heaven shot forth,
Far light is scattered—boundless glory springs;
Where'er she spreads her many-beaming wings
The lampless air glows round her golden crown.

But when the Moon divine from Heaven is gone
Under the sea, her beams within abide,
Till, bathing her bright limbs in Ocean's tide,
Clothing her form in garments glittering far,
And having yoked to her immortal car
The beam-invested steeds whose necks on high
Curve back, she drives to a remoter sky
A western Crescent, borne impetuously.
Then is made full the circle of her light,
And as she grows, her beams more bright and bright
Are poured from Heaven, where she is hovering then,
A wonder and a sign to mortal men.

The Son of Saturn with this glorious Power
Mingled in love and sleep—to whom she bore
Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare
Among the Gods, whose lives eternal are.

Hail Queen, great Moon, white-armed Divinity,
Fair-haired and favourable! thus with thee
My song beginning, by its music sweet
Shall make immortal many a glorious feat
Of demigods, with lovely lips, so well
Which minstrels, servants of the Muses, tell. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
1477:Here there comes a practical question which has often troubled me. Whenever I go into a foreign country or a prison or any similar place they always ask me what is my religion.

I never know whether I should say "Agnostic" or whether I should say "Atheist". It is a very difficult question and I daresay that some of you have been troubled by it. As a philosopher, if I were speaking to a purely philosophic audience I should say that I ought to describe myself as an Agnostic, because I do not think that there is a conclusive argument by which one prove that there is not a God.

On the other hand, if I am to convey the right impression to the ordinary man in the street I think I ought to say that I am an Atheist, because when I say that I cannot prove that there is not a God, I ought to add equally that I cannot prove that there are not the Homeric gods.

None of us would seriously consider the possibility that all the gods of homer really exist, and yet if you were to set to work to give a logical demonstration that Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, and the rest of them did not exist you would find it an awful job. You could not get such proof.

Therefore, in regard to the Olympic gods, speaking to a purely philosophical audience, I would say that I am an Agnostic. But speaking popularly, I think that all of us would say in regard to those gods that we were Atheists. In regard to the Christian God, I should, I think, take exactly the same line. ~ Bertrand Russell,
1478:Homer % relating them in a divinely infpired manner (grOgar'^^o^O' ^^^^ ^^^^ thofc who have often finned, and committed the greateft crimes^ are punifhed for their offences according to the fmgle will of Jupiter, and are deprived of life together with* their wives and children'. Ho further informs u<^, that Jupiter firfl of all accompliflies this punishment, and in a manner exempt and unapparent ta all; but Minerva in* the fecond place, being fubfervient to and cooperating with the paternal providence of Jupiter : for, as Orpheus fays, " fhe is the powerful queen of the intelledt of Saturnian Jove *." The fame poet like-wife adds, •* that his brain who violates leagues and oaths flows on the ground like wine." In confequence, therefore, of thi? violation, fueh men fubjedt themfelves to juftice, and render themfelves adapted to punifhment^ Hence the violation of leagues and oaths is eipecially perpetrated by thofe who, prior to this, have dcferved the vengeance of the Gods, who juftly govern mortal affairs^ and thus punifh former crimes. But fuch are iaid to be moved, and led forth into energy by the Gods themfelves : not that the Gods render men who are to be puniflied impious and unjuft, but as calling into energy thofe that are adapted to the perpetration of fuch-like a6lions, that by once energizing according to their inward habit^ and producing Vnto light the progeny of depraved actions with which they are pregnant, they may become worthy of punifhment. ~ Anonymous,
1479:Homer's Hymn to the Earth: Mother of All

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.

O universal Mother, who dost keep
From everlasting thy foundations deep,
Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!
All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,
All things that fly, or on the ground divine
Live, move, and there are nourished—these are thine;
These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee
Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree
Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!

The life of mortal men beneath thy sway
Is held; thy power both gives and takes away!
Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish;
All things unstinted round them grow and flourish.
For them, endures the life-sustaining field
Its load of harvest, and their cattle yield
Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled.
Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free,
The homes of lovely women, prosperously;
Their sons exult in youth's new budding gladness,
And their fresh daughters free from care or sadness,
With bloom-inwoven dance and happy song,
On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among,
Leap round them sporting—such delights by thee
Are given, rich Power, revered Divinity.

Mother of gods, thou Wife of starry Heaven,
Farewell! be thou propitious, and be given
A happy life for this brief melody,
Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
Shun the brush and shun the pen,
Shun the ways of clever men,
When they prove that black is white,
Whey they swear that wrong is right,
When they roast the singing stars
Like chestnuts, in between the bars,
_Children, let a wandering fool
Stuff your ears with cotton-wool._
When you see a clever man
Run as quickly as you can.
You must never, never, never
Think that Socrates was clever.
The cleverest thing I ever knew
Now cracks walnuts at the Zoo.
_Children, let a wandering fool
Stuff your ears with cotton-wool._
Homer could not scintillate.
Milton, too, was merely great.
That's a very different matter
From talking like a frantic hatter.
Keats and Shelley had no tricks.
Wordsworth never climbed up sticks.
_Children, let a wandering fool
Stuff your ears with cotton-wool._
Lincoln would create a gloom
In many a London drawing-room;
He'd be silent at their wit,
He would never laugh at it.
When they kissed Salome's toes,
I think he'd snort and blow his nose.
_Children, let a wandering fool
Stuff your ears with cotton-wool._
They'd curse him for a silly clown,
They'd drum him out of London town.
Professor Flunkey, the historian,
Would say he was a dull Victorian.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke and John,
Bless the bed I rest upon.
_Children, let a wandering fool
Stuff your ears with cotton-wool._
~ Alfred Noyes,
1481:We can see how our world is, in many ways, becoming more complex, fast-paced, and unpredictable. As a result, the problems we face are getting more complicated as well, and (as in my thought experiment), we need longer and more elaborate sets of instructions for technologies and institutions that can effectively solve them. Or, to put it in terms of complexity theory: the greater complexity of our world requires greater complexity in our technologies and institutions. As the American complexity theorist Yaneer Bar-Yam writes, “We must understand that … human systems exist within an environment that places demands upon them. If the complexity of these demands exceeds the complexity of a system, the system will fail. Thus, those systems that survive must have a complexity sufficiently large to respond to the complexity of environmental demands.”3 The human brain is the ultimate source of the ideas, ingenuity, and sets of instructions we need to cope with this greater complexity. And it is, itself, a vastly complex system. Through a sophisticated set of senses, the brain receives a flood of information about the body’s internal state and its external environment. It interprets this information and commands appropriate responses. Although we think of the brain primarily in terms of its role in conscious thought and decision, it also handles a wide array of routine and unconscious tasks, from guiding motor activity to regulating visceral, endocrine, and somatic functions.4 ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1482:Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest Invention of any writer whatever. The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested with him, and others may have their pretensions as to particular excellencies; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a wonder if he has ever been acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetry. It is the invention that in different degrees distinguishes all great geniuses: the utmost stretch of human study, learning, and industry, which masters everything besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes Art with all her materials, and without it, judgment itself can at best but steal wisely: for Art is only like a prudent steward, that lives on managing the riches of Nature. Whatever praises may be given to works of judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them but is owing to the invention: as in the most regular gardens, however Art may carry the greatest appearance, there is not a plant or flower but is the gift of Nature. The first can only reduce the beauties of the latter into a more obvious figure, which the common eye may better take in, and is therefore more entertained with them. And perhaps the reason why most critics are inclined to prefer a judicious and methodical genius to a great and fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue their observations through an uniform and bounded walk of Art, than to comprehend the vast and various extent of Nature. ~ Alexander Pope,
1483:1st row Homer, Shakespeare, Valmiki
2nd row Dante, Kalidasa, Aeschylus, Virgil, Milton
3rd row Goethe
I am not prepared to classify all the poets in the universe - it was the front bench or benches you asked for. By others I meant poets like Lucretius, Euripides, Calderon, Corneille, Hugo. Euripides (Medea, Bacchae and other plays) is a greater poet than Racine whom you want to put in the first ranks. If you want only the very greatest, none of these can enter - only Vyasa and Sophocles. Vyasa could very well claim a place beside Valmiki, Sophocles beside Aeschylus. The rest, if you like, you can send into the third row with Goethe, but it is something of a promotion about which one can feel some qualms. Spenser too, if you like; it is difficult to draw a line.

Shelley, Keats and Wordsworth have not been brought into consideration although their best work is as fine poetry as any written, but they have written nothing on a larger scale which would place them among the greatest creators. If Keats had finished Hyperion (without spoiling it), if Shelley had lived, or if Wordsworth had not petered out like a motor car with insufficient petrol, it might be different, but we have to take things as they are. As it is, all began magnificently, but none of them finished, and what work they did, except a few lyrics, sonnets, short pieces and narratives, is often flawed and unequal. If they had to be admitted, what about at least fifty others in Europe and Asia? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Poetry And Art,
1484:Today’s overwhelming volume and variety of information makes it possible—by selecting and connecting data points carefully—to paint practically any picture of the world and make it seem accurate. So the pictures we paint are often more a reflection of our deepest personal orientation, especially of our basic optimism or pessimism, than of empirical evidence.28 All the same, amidst the welter of information that sometimes seems to point in every direction, certain facts about long-term trends around the world ultimately shift the balance of evidence, in my mind, against the economic optimists. These facts indicate that there are chronic and widening ingenuity gaps in a number of domains of human activity. Significant problems, some of them fundamentally new in their character and scope, remain unsolved or are getting worse, in part because we haven’t generated and delivered enough ingenuity to address them. For instance, although average incomes and quality of life around the world are improving, these statistics—which are, again, highly aggregated—hide extreme and growing differences in wealth. Income per person, averaged globally, currently rises by about 0.8 percent per year, but in more than one hundred countries in the last fifteen years income has actually dropped. Some 1.3 billion people—about 30 percent of the population of the developing world—remain in absolute poverty, living on less than a dollar a day.29 And the gulf between the poorest and wealthiest people on the planet is widening very fast. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1485:This sentence is made of lead (and a sentence of lead gives a reader an entirely different sensation from one made of magnesium). This sentence is made of yak wool. This sentence is made of sunlight and plums. This sentence is made of ice. This sentence is made from the blood of the poet. This sentence was made in Japan. This sentence glows in the dark. This sentence was born with a caul. This sentence has a crush on Norman Mailer. This sentence is a wino and doesn't care who knows it. Like many italic sentences, this one has Mafia connections. This sentence is a double Cancer with a Pisces rising. This sentence lost its mind searching for the perfect paragraph. This sentence refuses to be diagrammed. This sentence ran off with an adverb clause. This sentence is 100 percent organic: it will not retain a facsimile of freshness like those sentences of Homer, Shakespeare, Goethe et al., which are loaded with preservatives. This sentence leaks. This sentence doesn't look Jewish... This sentence has accepted Jesus Christ as its personal savior. This sentence once spit in a book reviewer's eye. This sentence can do the funky chicken. This sentence has seen too much and forgotten too little. This sentence is called "Speedoo" but its real name is Mr. Earl. This sentence may be pregnant. This sentence suffered a split infinitive - and survived. If this sentence has been a snake you'd have bitten it. This sentence went to jail with Clifford Irving. This sentence went to Woodstock. And this little sentence went wee wee wee all the way home. ~ Tom Robbins,
1486:Writing and repairing software generally takes far more time and is far more expensive than initially anticipated. “Every feature that is added and every bug that is fixed,” Edward Tenner points out, “adds the possibility of some new and unexpected interaction between parts of the program.”19 De Jager concurs: “If people have learned anything about large software projects, it is that many of them miss their deadlines, and those that are on time seldom work perfectly. … Indeed, on-time error-free installations of complex computer systems are rare.”20 Even small changes to code can require wholesale retesting of entire software systems. While at MIT in the 1980s, I helped develop some moderately complex software. I learned then that the biggest problems arise from bugs that creep into programs during early stages of design. They become deeply embedded in the software’s interdependent network of logic, and if left unfixed can have cascading repercussions throughout the software. But fixing them often requires tracing out consequences that have metastasized in every direction from the original error. As the amount of computer code in our world soars (doubling every two years in consumer products alone), we need practical ways to minimize the number of bugs. But software development is still at a preindustrial stage—it remains more craft than engineering. Programmers resemble artisans: they handcraft computer code out of basic programming languages using logic, intuition, and pattern-recognition skills honed over years of experience. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1487:David Copperfield had a fever when he’d gone to bed, and Larch went to check on the boy. Dr. Larch was relieved to feel that young Copperfield’s fever had broken; the boy’s forehead was cool, and a slight sweat chilled the boy’s neck, which Larch carefully rubbed dry with a towel. There was not much moonlight; therefore, Larch felt unobserved. He bent over Copperfield and kissed him, much in the manner that he remembered kissing Homer Wells. Larch moved on to the next bed and kissed Smokey Fields, who tasted vaguely like hot dogs; yet the experience was soothing to Larch. How he wished he had kissed Homer more, when he’d had the chance! He went from bed to bed, kissing the boys; it occurred to him, he didn’t know all their names, but he kissed them anyway. He kissed all of them.
When he left the room, Smokey Fields asked the darkness, ‘What was that all about?’ But no one else was awake, or else no one wanted to answer him.
I wish he would kiss me like that, thought Nurse Edna, who had a very alert ear for unusual goings-on.
‘I think it’s nice,’ Mrs. Grogan said to Nurse Angela, when Nurse Angela told her about it.
‘I think it’s senile,’ Nurse Angela said.
But Homer Wells, at Wally’s window, did not know that Dr. Larch’s kisses were out in the world, in search of him.
He didn’t know, either – he could never have imagined it! – that Candy was also awake, and also worried. If he does stay, if he doesn’t go back to St. Cloud’s, she was thinking, what will I do? The sea tugged all around her. Both the darkness and the moon were failing. ~ John Irving,
1488:Now because Britain, France, and recently the United States are imperial powers, their political societies impart to their civil societies a sense of urgency, a direct political infusion as it were, where and whenever matters pertaining to their imperial interests abroad are concerned. I doubt that it is controversial, for example, to say that an Englishman in India or Egypt in the later nineteenth century took an interest in those countries that was never far from their status in his mind as British colonies. To say this may seem quite different from saying that all academic knowledge about India and Egypt is somehow tinged and impressed with, violated by, the gross political fact—and that is what I am saying in this study of Orientalism. For if it is true that no production of knowledge in the human sciences can ever ignore or disclaim its author’s involvement as a human subject in his own circumstances, then it must also be true that for a European or American studying the Orient there can be no disclaiming the main circumstances of his actuality: that he comes up against the Orient as a European or American first, as an individual second. And to be a European or an American in such a situation is by no means an inert fact. It meant and means being aware, however dimly, that one belongs to a power with definite interests in the Orient, and more important, that one belongs to a part of the earth with a definite history of involvement in the Orient almost since the time of Homer. ~ Edward W Said,
1489:We might be excused our ignorance in this case, because ocean-atmosphere systems are, after all, almost inconceivably complex. Less easy to excuse is our astounding lack of knowledge of much more visible features of our planet’s natural resources and ecology—features that have a direct impact on our well-being. For instance, we know surprisingly little about the state of the planet’s soils. While we have good information for some areas, like the Great Plains of the United States, soil data are sketchy for vast tracts of Africa, Asia, and Latin America, where billions of people depend directly on agriculture for survival. So we can’t accurately judge how badly we’ve degraded these soils through overuse and poor husbandry, though we do have patchy evidence that the damage is severe and getting worse in many places.18 Similarly, despite extensive satellite photography, our estimates of the rate and extent of tropical deforestation are rudimentary. We know even less about the natural ecology and species diversity inside these forests, where biologists presume most animal and plant species live. As a result, credible figures on the number of Earth’s species range from 5 to 30 million.19 And when it comes to broader questions—questions of how all these components of the planet’s ecology fit together; how they interact to produce Earth’s grand cycles of energy, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and sulfur; and how we’re perturbing these components and cycles—we find a deep and pervasive lack of knowledge, with unknown unknowns everywhere. Our ignorance, for all practical purposes, knows no bounds. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
1490:The accomplishment of the testimony was two-fold: It changed the death of Marshall from suicide to death by gunshot, and it brought into light bespectacled Johnson hit man, Malcolm “Mac” Wallace. At one point, Wallace, a former marine who had been the president of the University of Texas student body, had strong political aspirations. In 1946, Wallace was an organizer for Homer Rainey’s campaign for governor.44 Wallace eventually became indebted to Johnson, and the closest he would ever get to political office would be in administering of carnage for Johnson and his Texas business associates. Wallace was the Mr. X at the gas station asking Nolan Griffin for directions. Described as a “hatchet man”45 for Johnson by Lyndon’s mistress Madeleine Brown, Wallace was an important link in many of the murders connected to Johnson. Estes’s lawyer, Douglas Caddy, revealed Wallace’s and Johnson’s complicity in Texas-style justice in a letter to Stephan S. Trott at the US Department of Justice: My client, Mr. Estes, has authorized me to make this reply to your letter of May 29, 1984. Mr. Estes was a member of a four-member group, headed by Lyndon Johnson, which committed criminal acts in Texas in the 1960’s. The other two, besides Mr. Estes and LBJ, were Cliff Carter and Mack Wallace. Mr. Estes is willing to disclose his knowledge concerning the following criminal offenses: Murders 1.   The killing of Henry Marshall 2.   The killing of George Krutilek 3.   The killing of Ike Rogers and his secretary 4.   The killing of Coleman Wade 5.   The killing of Josefa Johnson 6.   The killing of John Kinser 7.   The killing of President J. F. Kennedy46 ~ Roger Stone,
1491:The Internet has co-opted the word “browse” for its own purposes, but it’s worth pointing out the difference between browsing in a virtual realm and browsing in the actual world. Depending on the terms entered, an Internet search engine will usually come up with hundreds, thousands, or millions of hits, which a person can then skate through, clicking when she sees something that most closely echoes her interest. It is a curious quality of the Internet that it can be composed of an unfathomable multitude and, at the same time, almost always deliver to the user the bits that feed her already-held interests and confirm her already-held beliefs. It points to a paradox that is, perhaps, one of the most critical of our time: To have access to everything may be to have nothing in particular. After all, what good does this access do if we can only find our way back to ourselves, the same selves, the same interests, the same beliefs over and over? Is what we really want to be solidified, or changed? If solidified, then the Internet is well-designed for that need. But, if we wish to be changed, to be challenged and undone, then we need a means of placing ourselves in the path of an accident. For this reason, the plenitude may narrow the mind. Amazon may curate the world for you, but only by sifting through your interests and delivering back to you variations on your well-rehearsed themes: Yes, I do love Handke! Yes, I had been meaning to read that obscure play by Thomas Bernhard! A bookstore, by contrast, asks you to scan the shelves on your way to looking for the thing you had in mind. You go in meaning to buy Hemingway, but you end up with Homer instead. What you think you like or want is not always what you need. A bookstore search inspires serendipity and surprise. ~ Nicole Krauss,
1492:This is the crime of which I accuse my country and my countrymen, and for which neither I nor time nor history will ever forgive them, that they have destroyed and are destroying hundreds of thousands of lives and do not know it and do not want to know it. . . . It is their innocence which constitutes the crime. . . . This innocent country set you down in a ghetto in which, in fact, it intended that you should perish. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being. You were not expected to aspire to excellence: you were expected to make peace with mediocrity. . . . You have, and many of us have, defeated this intention; and, by a terrible law, a terrible paradox, those innocents who believed that your imprisonment made them safe are losing their grasp on reality. But these men are your brothers—your lost, younger brothers. And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it. For this is your home, my friend, do not be driven from it; great men have done great things here, and will again, and we can make America what it must become. It will be hard, but you come from sturdy, peasant stock, men who picked cotton and dammed rivers and built railroads, and, in the teeth of the most terrifying odds, achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity. You come from a long line of great poets since Homer. One of them said, The very time I thought I was lost, My dungeon shook and my chains fell off. . . . We cannot be free until they are free. God bless you, and Godspeed. ~ Michelle Alexander,
1493:The Yellow Gas
The yellow gas is fired from street to street
past rows of heartless homes and hearths unlit,
dead churches, and the unending pavement beat
by crowds - say rather, haggard shades that flit
round nightly haunts of their delusive dream,
where'er our paradisal instinct starves: till on the utmost post, its sinuous gleam
crawls in the oily water of the wharves;
where Homer's sea loses his keen breath, hemm'd
what place rebellious piles were driven down the priestlike waters to this task condemn'd
to wash the roots of the inhuman town! where fat and strange-eyed fish that never saw
the outer deep, broad halls of sapphire light,
glut in the city's draught each nameless maw:
- and there, wide-eyed unto the soulless night,
methinks a drown'd maid's face might fitly show
what we have slain, a life that had been free,
clean, large, nor thus tormented - even so
as are the skies, the salt winds and the sea.
Ay, we had saved our days and kept them whole,
to whom no part in our old joy remains,
had felt those bright winds sweeping thro' our soul
and all the keen sea tumbling in our veins,
had thrill'd to harps of sunrise, when the height
whitens, and dawn dissolves in virgin tears,
or caught, across the hush'd ambrosial night,
the choral music of the swinging spheres,
or drunk the silence if nought else - But no!
and from each rotting soul distill in dreams
a poison, o'er the old earth creeping slow,
that kills the flowers and curdles the live streams,
that taints the fresh breath of re-risen day
and reeks across the pale bewildered moon:
- shall we be cleans'd and how? I only pray,
red flame or deluge, may that end be soon!
~ Christopher John Brennan,
1494:As they were speaking, a dog that had been lying asleep raised his head and pricked up his ears. This was Argos, whom Odysseus had bred before setting out for Troy, but he had never had any enjoyment from him. In the old days he used to be taken out by the young men when they went hunting wild goats, or deer, or hares, but now that his master was gone he was lying neglected on the heaps of mule and cow dung that lay in front of the stable doors till the men should come and draw it away to manure the great close; and he was full of fleas. As soon as he saw Odysseus standing there, he dropped his ears and wagged his tail, but he could not get close up to his master. When Odysseus saw the dog on the other side of the yard, dashed a tear from his eyes without Eumaeus seeing it, and said:

'Eumaeus, what a noble hound that is over yonder on the manure heap: his build is splendid; is he as fine a fellow as he looks, or is he only one of those dogs that come begging about a table, and are kept merely for show?'

'This dog,' answered Eumaeus, 'belonged to him who has died in a far country. If he were what he was when Odysseus left for Troy, he would soon show you what he could do. There was not a wild beast in the forest that could get away from him when he was once on its tracks. But now he has fallen on evil times, for his master is dead and gone, and the women take no care of him. Servants never do their work when their master's hand is no longer over them, for Zeus takes half the goodness out of a man when he makes a slave of him.'

So saying he entered the well-built mansion, and made straight for the riotous pretenders in the hall. But Argos passed into the darkness of death, now that he had fulfilled his destiny of faith and seen his master once more after twenty years… ~ Homer,
1495:Farewell To London
Dear, damn'd distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I'll tease:
This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,
Ye harlots, sleep at ease!
Soft B-- and rough C--s adieu,
Earl Warwick made your moan,
The lively H--k and you
May knock up whores alone.
To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd
Till the third watchman's toll;
Let Jervas gratis paint, and Frowde
Save three-pence and his soul.
Farewell, Arbuthnot's raillery
On every learned sot;
And Garth, the best good Christian he,
Although he knows it not.
Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;
Farewell, unhappy Tonson!
Heaven gives thee for thy loss of Rowe,
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.
Why should I stay? Both parties rage;
My vixen mistress squalls;
The wits in envious feuds engage:
And Homer (damn him!) calls.
The love of arts lies cold and dead
In Halifax's urn:
And not one Muse of all he fed
Has yet the grace to mourn.
My friends, by turns, my friends confound,
Betray, and are betrayed:
Poor Y--r's sold for fifty pound,
And B--ll is a jade.
Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour seek?
Or follow girls, seven hours in eight?
I us'd but once a week.
Still idle, with a busy air,
Deep whimsies to contrive;
The gayest valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake, alive.
Solicitous for others' ends,
Though fond of dear repose;
Careless or drowsy with my friends,
And frolic with my foes.
Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,
For sober, studious days!
And Burlington's delicious meal,
For salads, tarts, and pease!
Adieu to all, but Gay alone,
Whose soul, sincere and free,
Loves all mankind, but flatters none,
And so may starve with me.
~ Alexander Pope,
1496:Fear and desire for pleasure. Aggressiveness comes out of fear, predominantly, and sexuality predominantly out of the other. But they mix in the middle. Anyway, both of these impulses can destroy order, which comes out of both drives, and which is another human need I haven't yet fit into my scheme. So both have to be controlled. But in fact, despite religious commands to the contrary, aggressiveness has never really been condemned. It's been exalted, from the Bible through Homer and Virgil right down to Humbert Hemingway. Have you ever heard of a John Wayne movie being censored? did you ever see them take war books off the bookstands? They leave the genitals off Barbie and Ken, but they manufacture every kind of war toy. Because sex is more threatening to us than aggression. There have been strict rules about sex since the beginning of written rules, and even before, if we can believe myth. I think that's because it's in sex that men feel most vulnerable. In war they can hype themselves up, or they have a weapon. Sex means being literally naked and exposing your feelings. And that's more terrifying to most men than the risk of dying while fighting a bear or a soldier. Look at the rules! You can have sex if you're married, and you have to marry a person of the opposite gender, the same color and religion, an age close to your own, of the right social and economic background, even the right height, for God's sake, or else everybody gets up in arms, they disinherit you or threaten not to come to the wedding or they make nasty cracks behind your back. Or worse, if you cross color or gender lines. And once you're married, you're supposed to do only certain things when you make love: the others all have nasty names. When after all, sex itself, in itself, is harmless, and aggression is harmful. Sex never hurt anyone. ~ Marilyn French,
1497:Undoubtedly, my dear Dick. Just note the progress of events: consider the migrations of races, and you will arrive at the same conclusion assuredly. Asia was the first nurse of the world, was she not? For about four thousand years she travailed, she grew pregnant, she produced, and then, when stones began to cover the soil where the golden harvests sung by Homer had flourished, her children abandoned her exhausted and barren bosom. You next see them precipitating themselves upon young and vigorous Europe, which has nourished them for the last two thousand years. But already her fertility is beginning to die out; her productive powers are diminishing every day. Those new diseases that annually attack the products of the soil, those defective crops, those insufficient resources, are all signs of a vitality that is rapidly wearing out and of an approaching exhaustion. Thus, we already see the millions rushing to the luxuriant bosom of America, as a source of help, not inexhaustible indeed, but not yet exhausted. In its turn, that new continent will grow old; its virgin forests will fall before the axe of industry, and its soil will become weak through having too fully produced what had been demanded of it. Where two harvests bloomed every year, hardly one will be gathered from a soil completely drained of its strength. Then, Africa will be there to offer to new races the treasures that for centuries have been accumulating in her breast. Those climates now so fatal to strangers will be purified by cultivation and by drainage of the soil, and those scattered water supplies will be gathered into one common bed to form an artery of navigation. Then this country over which we are now passing, more fertile, richer, and fuller of vitality than the rest, will become some grand realm where more astonishing discoveries than steam and electricity will be brought to light. ~ Jules Verne,
1498:I begin to sing of Demeter, the holy goddess with the beautiful hair.
And her daughter [Persephone] too. The one with the delicate ankles, whom Hadês[1]
seized. She was given away by Zeus, the loud-thunderer, the one who sees far and wide.
Demeter did not take part in this, she of the golden double-axe, she who glories in the harvest.
5 She [Persephone] was having a good time, along with the daughters of Okeanos, who wear their girdles slung low.
She was picking flowers: roses, crocus, and beautiful violets.
Up and down the soft meadow. Iris blossoms too she picked, and hyacinth.
And the narcissus, which was grown as a lure for the flower-faced girl
by Gaia [Earth]. All according to the plans of Zeus. She [Gaia] was doing a favor for the one who receives many guests [Hadês].
10 It [the narcissus] was a wondrous thing in its splendor. To look at it gives a sense of holy awe
to the immortal gods as well as mortal humans.
It has a hundred heads growing from the root up.
Its sweet fragrance spread over the wide skies up above.
And the earth below smiled back in all its radiance. So too the churning mass of the salty sea.
15 She [Persephone] was filled with a sense of wonder, and she reached out with both hands
to take hold of the pretty plaything.[2] And the earth, full of roads leading every which way, opened up under her.
It happened on the Plain of Nysa. There it was that the Lord who receives many guests made his lunge.
He was riding on a chariot drawn by immortal horses. The son of Kronos. The one known by many names.
He seized her against her will, put her on his golden chariot,
20 And drove away as she wept. She cried with a piercing voice,
calling upon her father [Zeus], the son of Kronos, the highest and the best.
But not one of the immortal ones, or of human mortals,
heard her voice. ~ Homer,
1499:Interpretation first appears in the culture of late classical antiquity, when the power and credibility of myth had been broken by the “realistic” view of the world introduced by scientific enlightenment. Once the question that haunts post-mythic consciousness—that of the seemliness of religious symbols—had been asked, the ancient texts were, in their pristine form, no longer acceptable. Then interpretation was summoned, to reconcile the ancient texts to “modern” demands. Thus, the Stoics, to accord with their view that the gods had to be moral, allegorized away the rude features of Zeus and his boisterous clan in Homer’s epics. What Homer really designated by the adultery of Zeus with Leto, they explained, was the union between power and wisdom. In the same vein, Philo of Alexandria interpreted the literal historical narratives of the Hebrew Bible as spiritual paradigms. The story of the exodus from Egypt, the wandering in the desert for forty years, and the entry into the promised land, said Philo, was really an allegory of the individual soul’s emancipation, tribulations, and final deliverance. Interpretation thus presupposes a discrepancy between the clear meaning of the text and the demands of (later) readers. It seeks to resolve that discrepancy. The situation is that for some reason a text has become unacceptable; yet it cannot be discarded. Interpretation is a radical strategy for conserving an old text, which is thought too precious to repudiate, by revamping it. The interpreter, without actually erasing or rewriting the text, is altering it. But he can’t admit to doing this. He claims to be only making it intelligible, by disclosing its true meaning. However far the interpreters alter the text (another notorious example is the Rabbinic and Christian “spiritual” interpretations of the clearly erotic Song of Songs), they must claim to be reading off a sense that is already there. ~ Susan Sontag,
1500:Płynęliśmy przez Marmara, mając po jednej stronie Azję, po drugiej Europę. Wśród ogrodów jaśniały wille i pałace. Ku błękitnym wodom zbiegały żółte ścieżki. Nadszedł ciepły wieczór, rozłożył cienie na płowych i zielonych płaskociach, a niebo uczyniło się perłowe. W nocy wyroiły się gwiazdy i Wielka Niedźwiedzica zawisła jak metr zwinięty, zbyt wielki do odmierzania ziemskich przestrzeni. Wśród fal mieniło się odbicie księżyca splotami bajecznego węża. Woda miała barwę oksydowanego srebra. Zeszedłem do kabiny, ale nie mogłem zasnąć ze wzruszenia. Żadnej podróży nie zaczynałem w podobnym uniesieniu. Nawet owa pierwsza, jeszcze dziecinna wyprawa na południe, w poszukiwaniu morza, które ciągnęło ku sobie moje robinsonowskie tęsknoty, nawet to pierwsze zalęknione obcowanie z wielką nieznajomą przestrzenią, otwierającą się po obu stronach pociągu – nie przejawiało się takim drżeniem. Spełniało się teraz to, co wydawało się dalekie, planowane ostro, nie w opieszałej beznadziei wykonania. Opadła mnie jakby nostalgia – nie zwyczajne pragnienie wyjścia z granic swojego kraju i przewietrzenia duszy po cudzych drogach, lecz wprost tęsknota do jakiegoś powrotu, potrzeba witania się z rzeczami, do których oko i serce przywykło. Byłem wypełniony Grecją, jej historią, sztuką, myślą, zdarzały się chwile, że obumarła składnia języka greckiego rozrastała się w mózgu do potęgi jedynie możliwego wyrażania uczuć. I oto wiózł mnie okręt ku tym bliskim i nieznanym brzegom. Wczesnym rankiem wyszedłem na pokład. Właśnie minęliśmy Dardanele. Otwarło się Morze Egejskie wyzłocone pierwszymi promieniami słońca. Oczy biegły po drobniutkich falach i bawiły się błyszczącymi iskierkami. Na skałach niedalekiej wyspy świt dogasał. Krańce widnokręgu obiegał pas ciemniejszy, istotnie barwy fiołkowej, tak jak to widział Homer. Nagle wypłynęły delfiny. Było ich kilkanaście. W szybkich jak myśl obrotach wywijały koziołki, prężąc grzbiety i bijąc płetwami. Pradawne opiekuńcze zwierzęta mórz greckich – rumaki srebrnonogich nereid. ~ Anonymous,

IN CHAPTERS [150/154]

   38 Poetry
   38 Integral Yoga
   29 Philosophy
   13 Fiction
   13 Christianity
   10 Occultism
   9 Mysticism
   4 Psychology
   2 Philsophy
   1 Yoga
   1 Mythology
   1 Alchemy

   23 Nolini Kanta Gupta
   15 Sri Aurobindo
   12 Plato
   10 Percy Bysshe Shelley
   9 William Butler Yeats
   9 Aristotle
   7 Saint Augustine of Hippo
   6 John Keats
   5 Plotinus
   5 Jorge Luis Borges
   5 James George Frazer
   5 H P Lovecraft
   5 Carl Jung
   3 Satprem
   2 The Mother
   2 Ralph Waldo Emerson
   2 Lucretius
   2 Henry David Thoreau
   2 Friedrich Schiller
   2 Friedrich Nietzsche
   2 Aleister Crowley

   12 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07
   10 Shelley - Poems
   9 Yeats - Poems
   9 Poetics
   7 City of God
   6 The Secret Doctrine
   6 Keats - Poems
   5 The Golden Bough
   5 Lovecraft - Poems
   5 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02
   4 Letters On Poetry And Art
   4 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01
   3 Vedic and Philological Studies
   3 The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
   2 Walden
   2 Symposium
   2 Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness
   2 Schiller - Poems
   2 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 02
   2 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 01
   2 Of The Nature Of Things
   2 Labyrinths
   2 Essays In Philosophy And Yoga
   2 Emerson - Poems

00.01 - The Mother on Savitri, #Sweet Mother - Harmonies of Light, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  And men have the audacity to compare it with the work of Virgil or Homer and to find it inferior. They do not understand, they cannot understand. What do they know? Nothing at all. And it is useless to try to make them understand. Men will know what it is, but in a distant future. It is only the new race with a new consciousness which will be able to understand. I assure you there is nothing under the blue sky to compare with Savitri. It is the mystery of mysteries. It is a *super-epic,* it is super-literature, super-poetry, super-vision, it is a super-work even if one considers the number of lines He has written. No, these human words are not adequate to describe Savitri. Yes, one needs superlatives, hyperboles to describe it. It is a hyper-epic. No, words express nothing of what Savitri is, at least I do not find them. It is of immense value - spiritual value and all other values; it is eternal in its subject, and infinite in its appeal, miraculous in its mode and power of execution; it is a unique thing, the more you come into contact with it, the higher will you be uplifted. Ah, truly it is something! It is the most beautiful thing He has left for man, the highest possible. What is it? When will man know it? When is he going to lead a life of truth? When is he going to accept this in his life? This yet remains to be seen.
  My child, every day you are going to read Savitri; read properly, with the right attitude, concentrating a little before opening the pages and trying to keep the mind as empty as possible, absolutely without a thought. The direct road is through the heart. I tell you, if you try to really concentrate with this aspiration you can light the flame, the psychic flame, the flame of purification in a very short time, perhaps in a few days. What you cannot do normally, you can do with the help of Savitri. Try and you will see how very different it is, how new, if you read with this attitude, with this something at the back of your consciousness; as though it were an offering to Sri Aurobindo. You know it is charged, fully charged with consciousness; as if Savitri were a being, a real guide. I tell you, whoever, wanting to practice Yoga, tries sincerely and feels the necessity for it, will be able to climb with the help of Savitri to the highest rung of the ladder of Yoga, will be able to find the secret that Savitri represents. And this without the help of a Guru. And he will be able to practice it anywhere. For him Savitri alone will be the guide, for all that he needs he will find Savitri. If he remains very quiet when before a difficulty, or when he does not know where to turn to go forward and how to overcome obstacles, for all these hesitations and incertitudes which overwhelm us at every moment, he will have the necessary indications, and the necessary concrete help. If he remains very calm, open, if he aspires sincerely, always he will be as if lead by the hand. If he has faith, the will to give himself and essential sincerity he will reach the final goal.

01.02 - Sri Aurobindo - Ahana and Other Poems, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   What is the world that Sri Aurobindo sees and creates? Poetry is after all passion. By passion I do not mean the fury of emotion nor the fume of sentimentalism, but what lies behind at their source, what lends them the force they have the sense of the "grandly real," the vivid and pulsating truth. What then is the thing that Sri Aurobindo has visualised, has endowed with a throbbing life and made a poignant reality? Victor Hugo said: Attachez Dieu au gibet, vous avez la croixTie God to the gibbet, you have the cross. Even so, infuse passion into a thing most prosaic, you create sublime poetry out of it. What is the dead matter that has found life and glows and vibrates in Sri Aurobindo's passion? It is something which appears to many poetically intractable, not amenable to aesthetic treatment, not usually, that is to say, nor in the supreme manner. Sri Aurobindo has thrown such a material into his poetic fervour and created a sheer beauty, a stupendous reality out of it. Herein lies the greatness of his achievement. Philosophy, however divine, and in spite of Milton, has been regarded by poets as "harsh and crabbed" and as such unfit for poetic delineation. Not a few poets indeed foundered upon this rock. A poet in his own way is a philosopher, but a philosopher chanting out his philosophy in sheer poetry has been one of the rarest spectacles.1 I can think of only one instance just now where a philosopher has almost succeeded being a great poet I am referring to Lucretius and his De Rerum Natura. Neither Shakespeare nor Homer had anything like philosophy in their poetic creation. And in spite of some inclination to philosophy and philosophical ideas Virgil and Milton were not philosophers either. Dante sought perhaps consciously and deliberately to philosophise in his Paradiso I Did he? The less Dante then is he. For it is his Inferno, where he is a passionate visionary, and not his Paradiso (where he has put in more thought-power) that marks the nee plus ultra of his poetic achievement.
   And yet what can be more poetic in essence than philosophy, if by philosophy we mean, as it should mean, spiritual truth and spiritual realisation? What else can give the full breath, the integral force to poetic inspiration if it is not the problem of existence itself, of God, Soul and Immortality, things that touch, that are at the very root of life and reality? What can most concern man, what can strike the deepest fount in him, unless it is the mystery of his own being, the why and the whither of it all? But mankind has been taught and trained to live merely or mostly on earth, and poetry has been treated as the expression of human joys and sorrows the tears in mortal things of which Virgil spoke. The savour of earth, the thrill of the flesh has been too sweet for us and we have forgotten other sweetnesses. It is always the human element that we seek in poetry, but we fail to recognise that what we obtain in this way is humanity in its lower degrees, its surface formulations, at its minimum magnitude.

01.03 - Mystic Poetry, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Man's consciousness is further to rise from the mental to over-mental regions. Accordingly, his life and activities and along with that his artistic creations too will take on a new tone and rhythm, a new mould and constitution even. For this transition, the higher mentalwhich is normally the field of philosophical and idealistic activitiesserves as the Paraclete, the Intercessor; it takes up the lower functionings of the consciousness, which are intense in their own way, but narrow and turbid, and gives, by purifying and enlarging, a wider frame, a more luminous pattern, a more subtly articulated , form for the higher, vaster and deeper realities, truths and harmonies to express and manifest. In the old-world spiritual and mystic poets, this intervening medium was overlooked for evident reasons, for human reason or even intelligence is a double-edged instrument, it can make as well as mar, it has a light that most often and naturally shuts off other higher lights beyond it. So it was bypassed, some kind of direct and immediate contact was sought to be established between the normal and the transcendental. The result was, as I have pointed out, a pure spiritual poetry, on the one hand, as in the Upanishads, or, on the other, religious poetry of various grades and denominations that spoke of the spiritual but in the terms and in the manner of the mundane, at least very much coloured and dominated by the latter. Vyasa was the great legendary figure in India who, as is shown in his Mahabharata, seems to have been one of the pioneers, if not the pioneer, to forge and build the missing link of Thought Power. The exemplar of the manner is the Gita. Valmiki's represented a more ancient and primary inspiration, of a vast vital sensibility, something of the kind that was at the basis of Homer's genius. In Greece it was Socrates who initiated the movement of speculative philosophy and the emphasis of intellectual power slowly began to find expression in the later poets, Sophocles and Euripides. But all these were very simple beginnings. The moderns go in for something more radical and totalitarian. The rationalising element instead of being an additional or subordinate or contri buting factor, must itself give its norm and form, its own substance and manner to the creative activity. Such is the present-day demand.
   The earliest preoccupation of man was religious; even when he concerned himself with the world and worldly things, he referred all that to the other world, thought of gods and goddesses, of after-death and other where. That also will be his last and ultimate preoccupation though in a somewhat different way, when he has passed through a process of purification and growth, a "sea-change". For although religion is an aspiration towards the truth and reality beyond or behind the world, it is married too much to man's actual worldly nature and carries always with it the shadow of profanity.

01.04 - The Poetry in the Making, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   I said that the supreme artist is superconscious: his consciousness withdraws from the normal mental consciousness and becomes awake and alive in another order of consciousness. To that superior consciousness the artist's mentalityhis ideas and dispositions, his judgments and valuations and acquisitions, in other words, his normal psychological make-upserves as a channel, an instrument, a medium for transcription. Now, there are two stages, or rather two lines of activity in the processus, for they may be overlapping and practically simultaneous. First, there is the withdrawal and the in-gathering of consciousness and then its reappearance into expression. The consciousness retires into a secret or subtle worldWords-worth's "recollected in tranquillity"and comes back with the riches gathered or transmuted there. But the purity of the gold thus garnered and stalled in the artistry of words and sounds or lines and colours depends altogether upon the purity of the channel through which it has to pass. The mental vehicle receives and records and it can do so to perfection if it is perfectly in tune with what it has to receive and record; otherwise the transcription becomes mixed and blurred, a faint or confused echo, a poor show. The supreme creators are precisely those in whom the receptacle, the instrumental faculties offer the least resistance and record with absolute fidelity the experiences of the over or inner consciousness. In Shakespeare, in Homer, in Valmiki the inflatus of the secret consciousness, the inspiration, as it is usually termed, bears down, sweeps away all obscurity or contrariety in the recording mentality, suffuses it with its own glow and puissance, indeed resolves it into its own substance, as it were. And the difference between the two, the secret norm and the recording form, determines the scale of the artist's creative value. It happens often that the obstruction of a too critically observant and self-conscious brain-mind successfully blocks up the flow of something supremely beautiful that wanted to come down and waited for an opportunity.
   Artists themselves, almost invariably, speak of their inspiration: they look upon themselves more or less as mere instruments of something or some Power that is beyond them, beyond their normal consciousness attached to the brain-mind, that controls them and which they cannot control. This perception has been given shape in myths and legends. Goddess Saraswati or the Muses are, however, for them not a mere metaphor but concrete realities. To what extent a poet may feel himself to be a mere passive, almost inanimate, instrumentnothing more than a mirror or a sensitive photographic plateis illustrated in the famous case of Coleridge. His Kubla Khan, as is well known, he heard in sleep and it was a long poem very distinctly recited to him, but when he woke up and wanted to write it down he could remember only the opening lines, the rest having gone completely out of his memory; in other words, the poem was ready-composed somewhere else, but the transmitting or recording instrument was faulty and failed him. Indeed, it is a common experience to hear in sleep verses or musical tunes and what seem then to be very beautiful things, but which leave no trace on the brain and are not recalled in memory.
   But the Yogi is a wholly conscious being; a perfect Yogi is he who possesses a conscious and willed control over his instruments, he silences them, as and when he likes, and makes them convey and express with as little deviation as possible truths and realities from the Beyond. Now the question is, is it possible for the poet also to do something like that, to consciously create and not to be a mere unconscious or helpless channel? Conscious artistry, as we have said, means to be conscious on two levels of consciousness at the same time, to be at home in both equally and simultaneously. The general experience, however, is that of "one at a time": if the artist dwells more in the one, the other retires into the background to the same measure. If he is in the over-consciousness, he is only half-conscious in his brain consciousness, or even not conscious at allhe does not know how he has created, the sources or process of his creative activity, he is quite oblivious of them" gone through them all as if per saltum. Such seems to have been the case with the primitives, as they are called, the elemental poetsShakespeare and Homer and Valmiki. In some others, who come very near to them in poetic genius, yet not quite on a par, the instrumental intelligence is strong and active, it helps in its own way but in helping circumscribes and limits the original impulsion. The art here becomes consciously artistic, but loses something of the initial freshness and spontaneity: it gains in correctness, polish and elegance and has now a style in lieu of Nature's own naturalness. I am thinking of Virgil and Milton and Kalidasa. Dante's place is perhaps somewhere in between. Lower in the rung where the mental medium occupies a still more preponderant place we have intellectual poetry, poetry of the later classical age whose representatives are Pope and Dryden. We can go farther down and land in the domain of versificationalthough here, too, there can be a good amount of beauty in shape of ingenuity, cleverness and conceit: Voltaire and Delille are of this order in French poetry.
   The three or four major orders I speak of in reference to conscious artistry are exampled characteristically in the history of the evolution of Greek poetry. It must be remembered, however, at the very outset that the Greeks as a race were nothing if not rational and intellectual. It was an element of strong self-consciousness that they brought into human culture that was their special gift. Leaving out of account Homer who was, as I said, a primitive, their classical age began with Aeschylus who was the first and the most spontaneous and intuitive of the Great Three. Sophocles, who comes next, is more balanced and self-controlled and pregnant with a reasoned thought-content clothed in polished phrasing. We feel here that the artist knew what he was about and was exercising a conscious control over his instruments and materials, unlike his predecessor who seemed to be completely carried away by the onrush of the poetic enthousiasmos. Sophocles, in spite of his artistic perfection or perhaps because of it, appears to be just a little, one remove, away from the purity of the central inspiration there is a veil, although a thin transparent veil, yet a veil between which intervenes. With the third of the Brotherhood, Euripides, we slide lower downwe arrive at a predominantly mental transcription of an experience or inner conception; but something of the major breath continues, an aura, a rhythm that maintains the inner contact and thus saves the poetry. In a subsequent age, in Theocritus, for example, poetry became truly very much 'sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought', so much of virtuosity and precocity entered into it; in other words, the poet then was an excessively self-conscious artist. That seems to be the general trend of all literature.
   But should there be an inherent incompatibility between spontaneous creation and self-consciousness? As we have seen, a harmony and fusion can and do happen of the superconscious and the normally conscious in the Yogi. Likewise, an artist also can be wakeful and transparent enough so that he is conscious on both the levels simultaneouslyabove, he is conscious of the source and origin of his inspiration, and on the level plain he is conscious of the working of the instrument, how the vehicle transcribes and embodies what comes from elsewhere. The poet's consciousness becomes then divalent as it werethere is a sense of absolute passivity in respect of the receiving apparatus and coupled and immisced with it there is also the sense of dynamism, of conscious agency as in his secret being he is the master of his apparatus and one with the Inspirerin other words, the poet is both a seer (kavih) and a creator or doer (poits).
   Well, it is sheer incantation. It is word-weaving, rhythm plaiting, thought-wringing in order to pass beyond these frail materials, to get into contact with, to give some sense of the mystery of existence that passeth understanding. We are very far indeed from the "natural" poets, Homer or Shakespeare, Milton, or Virgil. And this is from a profane, a mundane poet, not an ostensibly religious or spiritual poet. The level of the poetic inspiration, at least of the poetic view and aspiration has evidently shifted to a higher, a deeper degree. We may be speaking of tins and tinsel, bones and dust, filth and misery, of the underworld of ignorance and ugliness,
   All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,

01.13 - T. S. Eliot: Four Quartets, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Our poet is too self-conscious, he himself feels that he has not the perfect voice. A Homer, even a Milton possesses a unity of tone and a wholeness of perception which are denied to the modern. To the modern, however, the old masters are not subtle enough, broad enough, psychological enough, let us say the word, spiritual enough. And yet the poetic inspiration, more than the religious urge, needs the injunction not to be busy with too many things, but to be centred upon the one thing needful, viz., to create poetically and not to discourse philosophically or preach prophetically. Not that it is impossible for the poet to swallow the philosopher and the prophet, metabolising them into the substance of his bone and marrow, of "the trilling wire in his blood", as Eliot graphically expresses. That perhaps is the consummation towards which poetry is tending. But at present, in Eliot, at least, the strands remain distinct, each with its own temper and rhythm, not fused and moulded into a single streamlined form of beauty. Our poet flies high, very high indeed at times, often or often he flies low, not disdaining the perilous limit of bathos. Perhaps it is all wilful, it is a mannerism which he cherishes. The mannerism may explain his psychology and enshrine his philosophy. But the poet, the magician is to be looked for elsewhere. In the present collection of poems it is the philosophical, exegetical, discursive Eliot who dominates: although the high lights of the subject-matter may be its justification. Still even if we have here doldrums like
   That the past has another pattern, and ceases to be a mere sequence

0 1961-10-30, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
   Reminiscent of Homer and the 'herds of Helios.'

02.03 - The Shakespearean Word, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   In the world of poetry Dante is a veritable avatar . His language is a supreme magic. The word-unit in him is a quantum of highly concentrated perceptive energy, Tapas. In Kalidasa the quantum is that of the energy of the light in sensuous beauty. And Homer's voice is a quantum of the luminous music of the spheres.
   The word-unit, the language quantum in Sri Aurobindo's poetry is a packet of consciousness-force, a concentrated power of Light (instinct with a secret Delight)listen:

03.01 - The Malady of the Century, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   The ancients, on the contrary, knew not many thingsnot so many as we know; but what they knew they knew well, they were sure of their knowledge. Their creations were not perhaps on the whole as rich and varied and subtleeven in a certain sense as deep as those of modern humanity; but they were finished and completed things, net and clear and full of power. The simple unambiguous virile line that we find in Kalidasa or in the Ajanta, in Homer or in the Par thenon, no longer comes out of the hands of a modern artist. Our delight is in the complexity and turbidity of the composition; we are not satisfied with richness only, we require a certain tortuousness and tangledness in the movement. We love the intermingling of many tints, the play of light dying away into haze and mist and obscurity, of shades that blur the sharpness of the contour. Our preoccupation, in Art, is how to create the impression of the many in its all-round simultaneity of forms and movements. The ancients were more simple and modest; they were satisfied with expressing one thing at a time and that simply done.
   The ancient Rishis were worshippers of the Sun and the Day; they were called Finders of the Day, Discoverers of the Solar World. They knew what they were about and they sought to make their meaning plain to others who cared to go to them. They were clear in their thought, direct in their perception; their feelings, however deep, were never obscure. We meet in their atmosphere and in their creative activity no circum-ambulating chiaroscuro, nothing of the turbid magic that draws us today towards the uncertain, the unexpected and the disconcerting. It is a world of certitude, of solid realityeven if it be on the highest spiritual levels of consciousness presenting a bold and precise and clear outline. When we hear them speak we feel they are uttering self-evident truths; there is no need to pause and question. At least so they were to their contemporaries; but the spokesman of our age must needs be a riddle even to ourselves.

03.12 - TagorePoet and Seer, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   A great literature seems to have almost invariably a great name attached to it, one name by which it is known and recognised as great. It is the name of the man who releases the inmost potency of that literature, and who marks at the same time the height to which its creative genius has attained or perhaps can ever attain. Homer and Virgil, Dante and Shakespeare, Goe the and Camoens, Firdausi in Persian and Kalidasa in classical Sanskrit, are such namesnumina, each being the presiding deity, the godhead born full-armed out of the poetic consciousness of the race to which he belongs. Even in the case of France whose language and literature are more a democratic and collective and less an individualistic creation, even there one single Name can be pointed out as the life and soul, the very cream of the characteristic poetic genius of the nation. I am, of course, referring to Racine, Racine who, in spite of Moliere and Corneille and Hugo, stands as the most representative French poet, the embodiment of French resthesis par excellence.
   Such a great name is Rabindranath Tagore in Bengali literature. We need not forget Bankim Chandra, nor even Madhusudan: still one can safely declare that if Bengali language and literature belonged to any single person as its supreme liberator and fosterer savitand pit is Rabindranath. It was he who lifted that language and literature from what had been after all a provincial and parochial status into the domain of the international and universal. Through him a thing of local value was metamorphosed definitively into a thing of world value.

04.01 - The March of Civilisation, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Ancient Greece, the fountainhead of European civilisationof the world culture reigning today, one can almost sayfound itself epitomised in the Periclean Age. The lightgrace, harmony, sweet reasonableness that was Greece, reached its highest and largest, its most characteristic growth in that period. Earlier, at the very beginning of her life cycle, there came indeed Homer and no later creation reached a higher or even as high a status of creative power: but it was a solitary peak, it was perhaps an announcement, not the realisation of the national glory. Pericles stood as the guardian, the representative, the emblem and nucleus of a nation-wide efflorescence. Not to speak of the great names associated with the age, even the common peoplemore than what was normally so characteristic of Greecefelt the tide that was moving high and shared in that elevated sweep of life, of thought and creative activity. Greece withdrew. The stage was made clear for Rome. Julius Caesar carried the Roman genius to its sublimest summit: but it remained for his great nephew to consolidate and give expression to that genius in its most characteristic manner and lent his name to a characteristic high-water mark of human civilisation.
   Greece and Rome may be taken to represent two types of culture. And accordingly we can distinguish two types of elevation or crest-formation of human consciousness one of light, the other of power. In certain movements one feels the intrusion, the expression of light, that is to say, the play of intelligence, understanding, knowledge, a fresh outlook and consideration of the world and things, a revaluation in other terms and categories of a new consciousness. The greatest, at least, the most representative movement of this kind is that of the Renaissance. It was really a New Illumination: a flood of light poured upon the mind and intellect and understanding of the period. There was a brightness, a brilliance, a happy agility and keenness in the movements of the brain. A largeness of vision, a curious sensibility, a wide and alert consciousness: these are some of the fundamental characteristics of this remarkable New Birth. It is the birth of what has been known as the scientific outlook, in the- broadest sense: it is the threshold of the modern epoch of humanity. All the modern European languages leaped into maturity, as it were, each attaining its definitive form and full-blooded individuality. Art and literature flooded in their magnificent creativeness all nations and peoples of the whole continent. The Romantic Revival, starting somewhere about the beginning of the nineteenth century, is another outstanding example of a similar phenomenon, of the descent of light into human consciousness. The light that descended into human consciousness at the time of the Renaissance captured the higher mind and intelligence the Ray touched as it were the frontal lobe of the brain; the later descent touched the heart, the feelings and emotive sensibility, it evoked more vibrant, living and powerful perceptions, created varied and dynamic sense-complexes, new idealisms and aspirations. The manifestation of Power, the descent or inrush of forcemighty and terriblehas been well recognised and experienced in the great French Revolution. A violence came out from somewhere and seized man and society: man was thrown out of his gear, society broken to pieces. There came a change in the very character and even nature of man: and society had to be built upon other foundations. The past was gone. Divasa gatah. Something very similar has happened again more recently, in Russia. The French Revolution brought in the bourgeois culture, the Russian Revolution has rung in the Proletariate.

04.02 - A Chapter of Human Evolution, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   The appearance of the Greeks on the stage of human civilisation is a mystery to historians. They are so different from all that preceded them. There does not seem to exist any logical link between them and the races from whom they are supposed to have descended or whose successors they were. The Minoan or Cretan civilisation is said to be cradle of the Greek, but where is the parallel or proportion between the two, judging from whatever relics have been left over from the older, the more ancient one. Indeed that is the term which best describes the situation. Whatever has gone before the Hellenic culture is ancient; they belong to the Old Regime. Egypt is old, Phoenicia is old, the Hebrews are old, all the other races of the old world are old, not merely chronologically, but psychologically. But Hellas is modern. There is a breath in the Ionian atmosphere, a breath of ozone, as it were, which wafts down to us, even into the air of today. Homer and Solon, Socrates and Aristotle, Pythagoras and Plato are still the presiding gods ruling over the human spirit that was born on Olympus and Ida.
   Human evolution took a decisive turn with the advent of the Hellenic culture and civilisation. All crises in evolution are a sudden revelation, an unexpected outburst, a saltum, a leap into the unknown. Now, what the Greeks brought in was the Mind, the luminous Reason, the logical faculty that is married to the senses, no doubt, but still suffused with an inner glow of consciousness. It is the faculty mediating between a more direct and immediate perception of things, Intuition and Instinct, on the one hand, and on the other, the perception given by the senses and a power of control over material things. Take Egypt or Israel or Chaldea, what one finds prominent there is the instinctive-intuitive man, spontaneousprime-sautierimaginative, mythopoeic, clairvoyant, clairaudient (although not very clear, in the modern and Greek sense), bringing into this world things of the other world and pushing this world as much as possible into the other, maintaining a kind of direct connection and communion between the two. The Greeks are of another mould. They are a rational people; they do not move and act simply or mainly by instinctive reactions, but even these are filtered in them through a light of the Mind of Intelligence, a logical pattern, a rational disposition of things; through Mind they seek to know Matter and to control it. It is the modern methodology, that of observation and experiment, in other words, the scientific procedure. The Greeks have had their gods, their mythology; but these are modelled somewhat differently: the gods are made more human, too human, as has often been observed. Zeus and Juno (Hera) are infinitely more human than Isis and Osiris or Moloch and Baal or even the Jewish Jehovah. These vital gods have a sombre air about them, solemn and serious, grim and powerful, but they have not the sunshine, the radiance and smile of Apollo (Apollo Belvedere) or Hermes. The Greeks might have, they must have taken up their gods from a more ancient Pantheon, but they have, after the manner of their sculptor Phidias, remoulded them, shaped and polished them, made them more luminous and nearer and closer to earth and men. 1 Was it not said of Socrates that he brought down the gods from heaven upon earth?

05.12 - The Soul and its Journey, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   We may try to illustrate by examples, although it is a rather dangerous game and may tend to put into a too rigid and' mathematical formula something that is living and variable. Still it will serve to give a clearer picture of the matter. Napoleon, evidently was a child of Mahakali; and Caesar seems to have been fashioned largely by the principle of Maheshwari; while Christ or Chaitanya are clearly emanations in the line of Mahalakshmi. Constructive geniuses, on the other hand, like the great statesman Colbert, for example, or Louis XIV, Ie grand monarque, himself belong to a family (or gotra, as we say in India) that originated from Mahasaraswati. Poets and artists again, although generally they belong to the clan of Mahalakshmi, can be regrouped according to the principle that predominates in each, the godhead that presides over the inspiration in each. The large breath in Homer and Valmiki, the high and noble style of their movement, the dignity and vastness that compose their consciousness affiliate them naturally to the Maheshwari line. A Dante, on the other hand, or a Byron has something in his matter and manner that make us think of the stamp of Mahakali. Virgil or Petrarch, Shelley or our Tagore seem to be emanations of Beauty, Harmony, LoveMahalakshmi. And the perfect artisanship of Mahasaraswati has found its especial embodiment in Horace and Racine and our Kalidasa. Michael Angelo in his fury of inspirations seems to have been impelled by Mahakali, while Mahalakshmi sheds her genial favour upon Raphael and Titian; and the meticulous care and the detailed surety in a Tintoretto makes us think of Mahasaraswati's grace. Mahasaraswati too seems to have especially favoured Leonardo da Vinci, although a brooding presence of Maheshwari also seems to be intermixed there.
   For it must be remembered that the human soul after all is not a simple and unilateral being, it is a little cosmos in itself. The soul is not merely a point or a single ray of light come down straight from its divine archetype or from the Divine himself, it is also a developing fire that increases and enriches itself through the multiple experiences of an evolutionary progressionit not only grows in height but extends in wideness also. Even though it may originally emanate from one principle and Personality, it takes in for its development and fulfilment influences and elements from the others also. Indeed, we know that the Four primal personalities of the Divine are not separate and distinct as they may appear to the human mind which cannot understand distinction without disparity. The Vedic gods themselves are so linked together, so interpenetrate one another that finally it is asserted that there is only one existence, only it is given many names. All the divine personalities are aspects of the Divine blended and fused together. Even so the human soul, being a replica of the Divine, cannot but be a complex of many personalities and often it may be difficult and even harmful to find and fix upon a dominant personality. The full flowering of the human soul, its perfect divinisation demands the realisation of a many-aspected personality, the very richness of the Divine within it.

1.01 - An Accomplished Westerner, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  Paul's School, where he had enrolled, was so surprised at the aptitude of his young student that he personally coached him in Greek. Three years later, Sri Aurobindo could skip half his classes and spend most of his time engrossed in his favorite occupation:reading. Nothing seemed to escape this voracious adolescent (except cricket, which held as little interest for him as Sunday school.) Shelley and "Prometheus Unbound," the French poets, Homer, Aristophanes, and soon all of European thought for he quickly came to master enough German and Italian to read Dante and Goe the in the original peopled a solitude of which he has said nothing. He never sought to form relationships, while Manmohan, the second brother, roamed through London in the company of his friend Oscar Wilde and would make a name for himself in English poetry. Each of the three brothers led his separate life. However, there was nothing austere about Sri Aurobindo, and certainly nothing of the puritan (the prurient,8 as he called it); it was just that he was "elsewhere," and his world was 6
  Life of Sri Aurobindo, 8

1.01 - Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious, #The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  almost Homeric age, as the carrier and mouthpiece of his own
  "Dionysian" enlightenment and ecstasy. For him God was dead,

1.01 - 'Imitation' the common principle of the Arts of Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  There is another art which imitates by means of language alone, and that either in prose or verse--which, verse, again, may either combine different metres or consist of but one kind--but this has hitherto been without a name. For there is no common term we could apply to the mimes of Sophron and Xenarchus and the Socratic dialogues on the one hand; and, on the other, to poetic imitations in iambic, elegiac, or any similar metre. People do, indeed, add the word 'maker' or 'poet' to the name of the metre, and speak of elegiac poets, or epic (that is, hexameter) poets, as if it were not the imitation that makes the poet, but the verse that entitles them all indiscriminately to the name. Even when a treatise on medicine or natural science is brought out in verse, the name of poet is by custom given to the author; and yet Homer and Empedocles have nothing in common but the metre, so that it would be right to call the one poet, the other physicist rather than poet. On the same principle, even if a writer in his poetic imitation were to combine all metres, as Chaeremon did in his Centaur, which is a medley composed of metres of all kinds, we should bring him too under the general term poet. So much then for these distinctions.
  There are, again, some arts which employ all the means above mentioned, namely, rhythm, tune, and metre. Such are Dithyrambic and Nomic poetry, and also Tragedy and Comedy; but between them the difference is, that in the first two cases these means are all employed in combination, in the latter, now one means is employed, now another.

1.01 - Proem, #Of The Nature Of Things, #Lucretius, #Poetry
  Old Homer's ghost to him and shed salt tears
  And with his words unfolded Nature's source.

1.02 - The Objects of Imitation., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Now it is evident that each of the modes of imitation above mentioned will exhibit these differences, and become a distinct kind in imitating objects that are thus distinct. Such diversities may be found even in dancing, flute-playing, and lyre-playing. So again in language, whether prose or verse unaccompanied by music. Homer, for example, makes men better than they are; Cleophon as they are; Hegemon the Thasian, the inventor of parodies, and Nicochares, the author of the Deiliad, worse than they are. The same thing holds good of Dithyrambs and Nomes; here too one may portray different types, as Timotheus and Philoxenus differed in representing their Cyclopes. The same distinction marks off Tragedy from Comedy; for Comedy aims at representing men as worse, Tragedy as better than in actual life.
  author class:Aristotle

1.02 - Where I Lived, and What I Lived For, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself. I have been as sincere a worshipper of Aurora as the Greeks. I got up early and bathed in the pond; that was a religious exercise, and one of the best things which I did. They say that characters were engraven on the bathing tub of king Tching-thang to this effect: Renew thyself completely each day; do it again, and again, and forever again. I can understand that. Morning brings back the heroic ages. I was as much affected by the faint hum of a mosquito making its invisible and unimaginable tour through my apartment at earliest dawn, when I was sitting with door and windows open, as I could be by any trumpet that ever sang of fame. It was Homers requiem; itself an Iliad and Odyssey in the air, singing its own wrath and wanderings. There was something cosmical about it; a standing advertisement, till forbidden, of the everlasting vigor and fertility of the world. The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour. Then there is least somnolence in us; and for an hour, at least, some part of us awakes which slumbers all the rest of the day and night. Little is to be expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor, are not awakened by our own newly-acquired force and aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance filling the airto a higher life than we fell asleep from; and thus the darkness bear its fruit, and prove itself to be good, no less than the light. That man who does not believe that each day contains an earlier, more sacred, and auroral hour than he has yet profaned, has despaired of life, and is pursuing a descending and darkening way. After a partial cessation of his sensuous life, the soul of man, or its organs rather, are reinvigorated each day, and his Genius tries again what noble life it can make. All memorable events, I should say, transpire in morning time and in a morning atmosphere. The Vedas say, All intelligences awake with the morning. Poetry and art, and the fairest and most memorable of the actions of men, date from such an hour. All poets and heroes, like Memnon, are the children of Aurora, and emit their music at sunrise. To him whose elastic and vigorous thought keeps pace with the sun, the day is a perpetual morning. It matters not what the clocks say or the attitudes and labors of men. Morning is when I am awake and there is a dawn in me. Moral reform is the effort to throw off sleep.
  Why is it that men give so poor an account of their day if they have not been slumbering? They are not such poor calculators. If they had not been overcome with drowsiness, they would have performed something.

1.03 - Reading, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  Being seated to run through the region of the spiritual world; I have had this advantage in books. To be intoxicated by a single glass of wine; I have experienced this pleasure when I have drunk the liquor of the esoteric doctrines. I kept Homers Iliad on my table through the summer, though I looked at his page only now and then. Incessant labor with my hands, at first, for I had my house to finish and my beans to hoe at the same time, made more study impossible. Yet I sustained myself by the prospect of such reading in future. I read one or two shallow books of travel in the intervals of my work, till that employment made me ashamed of myself, and I asked where it was then that _I_ lived.
  The student may read Homer or schylus in the Greek without danger of dissipation or luxuriousness, for it implies that he in some measure emulate their heroes, and consecrate morning hours to their pages. The heroic books, even if printed in the character of our mother tongue, will always be in a language dead to degenerate times; and we must laboriously seek the meaning of each word and line, conjecturing a larger sense than common use permits out of what wisdom and valor and generosity we have. The modern cheap and fertile press, with all its translations, has done little to bring us nearer to the heroic writers of antiquity. They seem as solitary, and the letter in which they are printed as rare and curious, as ever. It is worth the expense of youthful days and costly hours, if you learn only some words of an ancient language, which are raised out of the trivialness of the street, to be perpetual suggestions and provocations. It is not in vain that the farmer remembers and repeats the few Latin words which he has heard. Men sometimes speak as if the study of the classics would at length make way for more modern and practical studies; but the adventurous student will always study classics, in whatever language they may be written and however ancient they may be. For what are the classics but the noblest recorded thoughts of man? They are the only oracles which are not decayed, and there are such answers to the most modern inquiry in them as Delphi and Dodona never gave. We might as well omit to study Nature because she is old. To read well, that is, to read true books in a true spirit, is a noble exercise, and one that will task the reader more than any exercise which the customs of the day esteem. It requires a training such as the athletes underwent, the steady intention almost of the whole life to this object. Books must be read as deliberately and reservedly as they were written. It is not enough even to be able to speak the language of that nation by which they are written, for there is a memorable interval between the spoken and the written language, the language heard and the language read. The one is commonly transitory, a sound, a tongue, a dialect merely, almost brutish, and we learn it unconsciously, like the brutes, of our mothers. The other is the maturity and experience of that; if that is our mother tongue, this is our father tongue, a reserved and select expression, too significant to be heard by the ear, which we must be born again in order to speak. The crowds of men who merely _spoke_ the
  Greek and Latin tongues in the middle ages were not entitled by the accident of birth to _read_ the works of genius written in those languages; for these were not written in that Greek or Latin which they knew, but in the select language of literature. They had not learned the nobler dialects of Greece and Rome, but the very materials on which they were written were waste paper to them, and they prized instead a cheap contemporary literature. But when the several nations of Europe had acquired distinct though rude written languages of their own, sufficient for the purposes of their rising literatures, then first learning revived, and scholars were enabled to discern from that remoteness the treasures of antiquity. What the Roman and Grecian multitude could not _hear_, after the lapse of ages a few scholars
  Those who have not learned to read the ancient classics in the language in which they were written must have a very imperfect knowledge of the history of the human race; for it is remarkable that no transcript of them has ever been made into any modern tongue, unless our civilization itself may be regarded as such a transcript. Homer has never yet been printed in English, nor schylus, nor Virgil evenworks as refined, as solidly done, and as beautiful almost as the morning itself; for later writers, say what we will of their genius, have rarely, if ever, equalled the elaborate beauty and finish and the lifelong and heroic literary labors of the ancients. They only talk of forgetting them who never knew them. It will be soon enough to forget them when we have the learning and the genius which will enable us to attend to and appreciate them. That age will be rich indeed when those relics which we call Classics, and the still older and more than classic but even less known Scriptures of the nations, shall have still further accumulated, when the Vaticans shall be filled with Vedas and
  Zendavestas and Bibles, with Homers and Dantes and Shakespeares, and all the centuries to come shall have successively deposited their trophies in the forum of the world. By such a pile we may hope to scale heaven at last.
  The works of the great poets have never yet been read by mankind, for only great poets can read them. They have only been read as the multitude read the stars, at most astrologically, not astronomically.

1.03 - The Manner of Imitation., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  There is still a third difference--the manner in which each of these objects may be imitated. For the medium being the same, and the objects the same, the poet may imitate by narration--in which case he can either take another personality as Homer does, or speak in his own person, unchanged--or he may present all his characters as living and moving before us.
  These, then, as we said at the beginning, are the three differences which distinguish artistic imitation,--the medium, the objects, and the manner. So that from one point of view, Sophocles is an imitator of the same kind as Homer--for both imitate higher types of character; from another point of view, of the same kind as Aristophanes--for both imitate persons acting and doing. Hence, some say, the name of 'drama' is given to such poems, as representing action. For the same reason the Dorians claim the invention both of Tragedy and Comedy. The claim to Comedy is put forward by the Megarians,--not only by those of Greece proper, who allege that it originated under their democracy, but also by the Megarians of Sicily, for the poet Epicharmus, who is much earlier than Chionides and Magnes, belonged to that country. Tragedy too is claimed by certain Dorians of the Peloponnese. In each case they appeal to the evidence of language. The outlying villages, they say, are by them called {kappa omega mu alpha iota}, by the Athenians {delta eta mu iota}: and they assume that Comedians were so named not from {kappa omega mu 'alpha zeta epsilon iota nu}, 'to revel,' but because they wandered from village to village (kappa alpha tau alpha / kappa omega mu alpha sigma), being excluded contemptuously from the city. They add also that the Dorian word for 'doing' is {delta rho alpha nu}, and the Athenian, {pi rho alpha tau tau epsilon iota nu}.
  This may suffice as to the number and nature of the various modes of imitation.

1.04 - The First Circle, Limbo Virtuous Pagans and the Unbaptized. The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. The Noble Castle of Philosophy., #The Divine Comedy, #Dante Alighieri, #Christianity
  object:1.04 - The First Circle, Limbo Virtuous Pagans and the Unbaptized. The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. The Noble Castle of Philosophy.
  Broke the deep lethargy within my head
  That one is Homer, Poet sovereign;
  He who comes next is Horace, the satirist;

1.04 - The Gods of the Veda, #Vedic and Philological Studies, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The beliefs and conclusions of today are, in these rapid and unsettled times, seldom the beliefs and conclusions of tomorrow. In religion, in thought, in science, in literature we march daily over the bodies of dead theories to enthrone fresh syntheses and worship new illuminations. The realms of scholarship are hardly more quiet and secure than these troubled kingdoms; and in that realm nowhere is the soil so boggy, nowhere does scholastic ingenuity disport itself with such light fantastic footsteps over such a quaking morass of hardy conjecture and hasty generalisation as in the Sanscrit scholarship of the last century. But the Vedic question at least seemed to have been settled. It was agreedfirmly enough, it seemed that the Vedas were the sacred chants of a rude, primitive race of agriculturists sacrificing to very material gods for very material benefits with an elaborate but wholly meaningless & arbitrary ritual; the gods themselves were merely poetical personifications of cloud & rain & wind, lightning & dawn and the sky & fire to which the semi-savage Vedic mind attributed by crude personal analogy a personality and a presiding form, the Rishis were sacrificing priests of an invading Aryan race dwelling on the banks of the Panjab rivers, men without deep philosophical or exalted moral ideas, a race of frank cheerful Pagans seeking the good things of life, afraid of drought & night & various kinds of devils, sacrificing persistently & drinking vigorously, fighting the black Dravidians whom they called the Dasyus or robbers,crude prototypes these of Homeric Greek and Scandinavian Viking.All this with many details of the early civilisation were supposed to be supplied by a philological and therefore scientificexamination of the ancient text yielding as certain results as the interpretation of Egyptian hieroglyph and Persian inscription. If there are hymns of a high moral fervour, of a remarkable philosophical depth & elevation, these are later compositions of a more sophisticated age. In the earlier hymns, the vocabulary, archaic and almost unintelligible, allows an adroit & industrious scholarship waving in its hand the magic wand of philology to conjure into it whatever meaning may be most suitable to modern beliefs or preferable to the European temperament. As for Vedanta, it can be no clue to the meaning of the mantras, because the Upanishads represent a spiritual revolt against Vedic naturalism & ceremonialism and not, as has been vainly imagined for some thousands of years, the fulfilment of Vedic truth. Since then, some of these positions have been severely shaken. European Science has rudely scouted the claims of Comparative Philology to rank as a Science; European Ethnology has dismissed the Aryo-Dravidian theory of the philologist & tends to see in the Indian people a single homogeneous race; it has been trenchantly suggested and plausibly upheld that the Vedas themselves offer no evidence that the Indian races were ever outside India but even prove the contraryan advance from the south and not from the north. These theories have not only been suggested & widely approved but are gaining upon the general mind. Alone in all this overthrow the European account of Vedic religion & Vedic civilisation remains as yet intact & unchallenged by any serious questioning. Even in the minds of the Indian people, with their ancient reverence for Veda, the Europeans have effected an entire divorce between Veda & Vedanta. The consistent religious development of India has been theosophic, mystical, Vedantic. Its beginnings are now supposed to have been naturalistic, materialistic, Pagan, almost Graeco-Roman. No satisfactory explanation has been given of this strange transformation in the soul of a people, and it is not surprising that theories should have been started attri buting to Vedanta & Brahmavada a Dravidian origin. Brahmavada was, some have confidently asserted, part of the intellectual property taken over by the Aryan conquerors from the more civilised races they dispossessed. The next step in this scholars progress might well be some counterpart of Sergis Mediterranean theory,an original dark, pacific, philosophic & civilised race overwhelmed by a fairskinned & warlike horde of Aryan savages.
  The object of this book is to suggest a prior possibility,that the whole European theory may be from beginning to end a prodigious error. The confident presumption that religion started in fairly recent times with the terrors of the savage, passed through stages of Animism & Nature worship & resulted variously in Paganism, monotheism or the Vedanta has stood in the way of any extension of scepticism to this province of Vedic enquiry. I dispute the presumption and deny the conclusions drawn from it. Before I admit it, I must be satisfied that a system of pure Nature worship ever existed. I cannot accept as evidence Sun & Star myth theories which, as a play of ingenious scholastic fancy, may attract the imagination, but are too haphazard, too easily self-contented, too ill-combined & inconsequent to satisfy the scientific reason. No other religion of which there is any undisputed record or sure observation, can be defined as a system of pure Nature worship. Even the savage-races have had the conception of gods & spirits who are other than personified natural phenomena. At the lowest they have Animism & the worship of spirits, ghosts & devils. Ancestor-worship & the cult of snake & four-footed animal seem to have been quite as old as any Nature-gods with whom research has made us acquainted. In all probability the Python was worshipped long before Apollo. It is therefore evident that even in the lowest religious strata the impulse to personify Nature-phenomena is not the ruling cult-idea of humanity. It is exceedingly unlikely that at any time this element should have so far prevailed as to cast out all the others so as to create a type of cult confined within a pure & rigid naturalism. Man has always seen in the universe the replica of himself. Unless therefore the Vedic Rishis had no thought of their subjective being, no perception of intellectual and moral forces within themselves, it is a psychological impossibility that they should have detected divine forces behind the objective world but none behind the subjective.
  These are negative and a priori considerations, but they are supported by more positive indications. The other Aryan religions which are most akin in conception to the Vedic and seem originally to have used the same names for their deities, present themselves to us even at their earliest vaguely historic stage as moralised religions. Their gods had not only distinct moral attri butes, but represented moral & subjective functions. Apollo is not only the god of the sun or of pestilencein Homer indeed Haelios (Saurya) & not Apollo is the Sun God but the divine master of prophecy and poetry; Athene has lost any naturalistic significance she may ever have had and is a pure moral force, the goddess of strong intelligence, force guided by brain; Ares is the lord of battles, not a storm wind; Artemis, if she is the Moon, is also goddess of the free hunting life and of virginity; Aphrodite is only the goddess of Love & Beauty There is therefore a strong moral element in the cult & there are clear subjective notions attached to the divine personalities. But this is not all. There was not only a moral element in the Greek religion as known & practised by the layman, there was also a mystic element and an esoteric belief & practice practised by the initiated. The mysteries of Eleusis, the Thracian rites connected with the name of Orpheus, the Phrygian worship of Cybele, even the Bacchic rites rested on a mystic symbolism which gave a deep internal meaning to the exterior circumstances of creed & cult. Nor was this a modern excrescence; for its origins were lost to the Greeks in a legendary antiquity. Indeed, if we took the trouble to understand alien & primitive mentalities instead of judging & interpreting them by our own standards, I think we should find an element of mysticism even in savage rites & beliefs. The question at any rate may fairly be put, Were the Vedic Rishis, thinkers of a race which has shown itself otherwise the greatest & earliest mystics & moralisers in historical times, the most obstinately spiritual, theosophic & metaphysical of nations, so far behind the Orphic & Homeric Greeks as to be wholly Pagan & naturalistic in their creed, or was their religion too moralised & subjective, were their ceremonies too supported by an esoteric symbolism?
  The immediate or at any rate the earliest known successors of the Rishis, the compilers of the Brahmanas, the writers of theUpanishads give a clear & definite answer to this question.The Upanishads everywhere rest their highly spiritual & deeply mystic doctrines on the Veda.We read in the Isha Upanishad of Surya as the Sun God, but it is the Sun of spiritual illumination, of Agni as the Fire, but it is the inner fire that burns up all sin & crookedness. In the Kena Indra, Agni & Vayu seek to know the supreme Brahman and their greatness is estimated by the nearness with which they touched him,nedistham pasparsha. Uma the daughter of Himavan, the Woman, who reveals the truth to them is clearly enough no natural phenomenon. In the Brihadaranyaka, the most profound, subtle & mystical of human scriptures, the gods & Titans are the masters, respectively, of good and of evil. In the Upanishads generally the word devah is used as almost synonymous with the forces & functions of sense, mind & intellect. The element of symbolism is equally clear. To the terms of the Vedic ritual, to their very syllables a profound significance is everywhere attached; several incidents related in the Upanishads show the deep sense then & before entertained that the sacrifices had a spiritual meaning which must be known if they were to be conducted with full profit or even with perfect safety. The Brahmanas everywhere are at pains to bring out a minute symbolism in the least circumstances of the ritual, in the clarified butter, the sacred grass, the dish, the ladle. Moreover, we see even in the earliest Upanishads already developed the firm outlines and minute details of an extraordinary psychology, physics, cosmology which demand an ancient development and centuries of Yogic practice and mystic speculation to account for their perfect form & clearness. This psychology, this physics, this cosmology persist almost unchanged through the whole history of Hinduism. We meet them in the Puranas; they are the foundation of the Tantra; they are still obscurely practised in various systems of Yoga. And throughout, they have rested on a declared Vedic foundation. The Pranava, the Gayatri, the three Vyahritis, the five sheaths, the five (or seven) psychological strata, (bhumi, kshiti of the Vedas), the worlds that await us, the gods who help & the demons who hinder go back to Vedic origins.All this may be a later mystic misconception of the hymns & their ritual, but the other hypothesis of direct & genuine derivation is also possible. If there was no common origin, if Greek & Indian separated during the naturalistic period of the common religion supposed to be recorded in the Vedas it is surprising that even the little we know of Greek rites & mysteries should show us ideas coincident with those of Indian Tantra & Yoga.

1.04 - The Origin and Development of Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Poetry now diverged in two directions, according to the individual character of the writers. The graver spirits imitated noble actions, and the actions of good men. The more trivial sort imitated the actions of meaner persons, at first composing satires, as the former did hymns to the gods and the praises of famous men. A poem of the satirical kind cannot indeed be put down to any author earlier than Homer; though many such writers probably there were. But from Homer onward, instances can be cited,--his own Margites, for example, and other similar compositions. The appropriate metre was also here introduced; hence the measure is still called the iambic or lampooning measure, being that in which people lampooned one another. Thus the older poets were distinguished as writers of heroic or of lampooning verse.
  As, in the serious style, Homer is pre-eminent among poets, for he alone combined dramatic form with excellence of imitation, so he too first laid down the main lines of Comedy, by dramatising the ludicrous instead of writing personal satire. His Margites bears the same relation to Comedy that the Iliad and Odyssey do to Tragedy. But when Tragedy and Comedy came to light, the two classes of poets still followed their natural bent: the lampooners became writers of Comedy, and the Epic poets were succeeded by Tragedians, since the drama was a larger and higher form of art.
  Whether Tragedy has as yet perfected its proper types or not; and whether it is to be judged in itself, or in relation also to the audience,--this raises another question. Be that as it may, Tragedy--as also Comedy--was at first mere improvisation. The one originated with the authors of the Dithyramb, the other with those of the phallic songs, which are still in use in many of our cities. Tragedy advanced by slow degrees; each new element that showed itself was in turn developed.

1.04 - The Paths, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
  The Greek God is Themis, who, in the Homeric poems, is the personification of abstract law, custom, and equity, whence she is described as reigning in the assemblies of men, and convening the assembly of the Gods on Mount
  Olympus. Its Egyptian God bears out the idea of Justice for she is Maat, the Goddess of Truth, who in the Book of the Dead appears in the judgment scene of the weighing of the heart of the deceased. Nemesis, too, is a correspon- dence, as she measured out to mortals happiness and misery ; and here, too, is the Hindu concept of Yama, the personification of death and Hell where men had to expiate their evil deeds.

1.04 - What Arjuna Saw - the Dark Side of the Force, #Preparing for the Miraculous, #George Van Vrekhem, #Integral Yoga
  brilliant passages of the Gilgamesh epic, Homers Iliad and
  Odyssey, the works of the Greek tragedians, Dantes Divina

1.06 - Magicians as Kings, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
  misshaped offspring is born." In Homeric Greece kings and chiefs
  were spoken of as sacred or divine; their houses, too, were divine

1.07 - Savitri, #Twelve Years With Sri Aurobindo, #Nirodbaran, #Integral Yoga
  Sri Aurobindo's quotations from memory from Homer, Shakespeare, Milton and others which he said should be verified were, in most cases, correct. When I read Homer's lines trying to imitate Sri Aurobindo's intonation, but forgetting the quantitative length, he corrected me. That reminds me also of how he encouraged me indirectly to learn the Sanskrit alphabet. I didn't know it, as I learnt Pali in my school. So whenever I met with a Sanskrit word while reading correspondences to Sri Aurobindo, I had either to show it to him or get somebody's help. I thought this wouldn't do, I must learn at least the alphabet. I put my mind to it and, getting some smattering of it, began to show my learning before him. He Started taking interest. When I tried to articulate a word in part, he helped me with the rest as one does with a child. Fortunately I managed, after getting the Mother's approval, to learn French also during the break from my work. She said it would be very useful, and so it was, for when some French communications came, I could read them to him.
  This is roughly the story of the grand epic Savitri traced from the earliest conception to its final consummation. Undoubtedly the first three Books were of a much higher level of inspiration and nearer perfection than the rest, for with ample leisure, and working by himself he could devote more time and care to that end, which unfortunately could not be said about the rest of the Books. Apart from the different versions I have mentioned, there is a huge mass of manuscripts which we have left unclassified since they are in fragments[4] all of which testifies to the immense labour of a god that has gone into the building of the magnificent epic. For a future research scholar, when Savitri earns as wide a recognition as, for instance, Dante's or Homer's epic, if not more, a very interesting work remains to be done; going into the minutest detail, he would show where new lines or passages have been added, or where one line slightly changed becomes an overhead line, or how another line after various changes comes back to its original version, etc., etc. I was chosen as a scribe probably because I didn't have all these gifts, so that I could, like a passive instrument, jot down faithfully whatever was dictated while Amal would have raised doubts, argued with him or been lost in sheer admiration of the beauty and the grandeur! Dilip would have started quoting line after line in rapturous ecstasy before the poem had come out! I submit no apology, nor am I conscience-stricken for my failures, for he knew what was the worth of his instrument. I am only grateful to him for being able to serve him with the very faculty which he had evolved and developed in me.
  We can at last see how from among scattered seeds a single huge banyan tree has grown and spread itself to the transcendent and the cosmic infinite and excites our perpetual wonder. I wish I could provide a more faithful and vivid picture of its daily growth, a branch here, an offshoot there, trimming the old twigs, reviving the dying ones, discarding the outworn crowding branches till there soared up into the sky a majestic vision under whose perennial shade the world can repose awhile, in its long journey to the Eternal. To show how he expanded the poem I may quote one long new passage which he appended to the end of Book II, Canto VI, The Kingdoms and the Godheads of the Greater Life:

1.08 - The Gods of the Veda - The Secret of the Veda, #Vedic and Philological Studies, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The indications from external sources are few and inconclusive, but they are by no means favourable to the theory of a materialistic worship of Nature-Powers. The Europeans start with their knowledge of the old Pagan worship, their idea of the crudity of early Greek & German myth & practice and their minds naturally expect to find & even insist on finding an even greater crudity in the Vedas. But it must not be forgotten that in no written record of Greek or Scandinavian do the old religions appear as mere materialistic ideas or the old gods as mere Nature forces; they have also a moral significance, and show a substratum of moral and an admixture even of psychological & philosophical ideas. If in their origin, they were material and barbarous, they had already been moralised & intellectualised. Already even in Homer Pallas Athene is not the Dawn or any natural phenomenon, but a great preterhuman power of wisdom, force & intelligence; Apollo is not the Sunwho is represented by another deity, Helios but a moral or moralised deity. In the Veda, even in the European rendering, Varuna has a similar moral character and represents ethical & religious ideas far in advance of any that we find in the Homeric cult & ethics. We cannot rule out of court the possibility that others of the gods shared this Vedic distinction or that, even perhaps in their oldest hymns, the Indians had gone at least as far as the Greeks in the moralising of their religion.
  Moreover, even their moralised gods were only the superficial & exterior aspect of the Greek religion. Its deeper life fed itself on the mystic rites of Orpheus, Bacchus, the Eleusinian mysteries which were deeply symbolic and remind us in some of their ideas & circumstances of certain aspects of Indian Yoga. The mysticism & symbolism were not an entirely modern development. Orpheus, Bacchus & Demeter are the centre of an antique and prehistoric, even preliterary mind-movement. The element may have been native to Greek religious sentiment; it may have been imported from the East through the Aryan races or cultures of Asia Minor; but it may also have been common to the ancient systems of Greece & India. An original community or a general diffusion is at least possible. The double aspect of exoteric practice and esoteric symbolism may have already been a fundamental characteristic of the Vedic religion. Is it entirely without significance that to the Vedic mind men were essentially manu, thinkers, the original father of the race was the first Thinker, and the Vedic poets in the idea of their contemporaries not merely priests or sacred singers or wise bards but much more characteristically manishis & rishis, thinkers & sages?We can conceive with difficulty such ideas as belonging to that undeveloped psychological condition of the semi-savage to which sacrifices of propitiation & Nature-Gods helpful only for material life, safety & comfort were all-sufficient. Certainly, also, the earliest Indian writings subsequent to Vedic times bear out these indications. To the writers of the Brahmanas the sacrificial ritual enshrined an elaborate symbolism. The seers of the Upanishad worshipped Surya & Agni as great spiritual & moral forces and believed the Vedic hymns to be effective only because they contained a deep knowledge & a potent spirituality. They may have been in errormay have been misled by a later tradition or themselves have read mystic refinements into a naturalistic text. But also & equally, they may have had access to an unbroken line of knowledge or they may have been in direct touch or in closer touch than the moderns with the mentality of the Vedic singers.

1.08 - The Plot must be a Unity., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Unity of plot does not, as some persons think, consist in the Unity of the hero. For infinitely various are the incidents in one man's life which cannot be reduced to unity; and so, too, there are many actions of one man out of which we cannot make one action. Hence, the error, as it appears, of all poets who have composed a Heracleid, a Theseid, or other poems of the kind. They imagine that as Heracles was one man, the story of Heracles must also be a unity. But Homer, as in all else he is of surpassing merit, here too--whether from art or natural genius--seems to have happily discerned the truth. In composing the Odyssey he did not include all the adventures of Odysseus--such as his wound on Parnassus, or his feigned madness at the mustering of the host--incidents between which there was no necessary or probable connection: but he made the
  Odyssey, and likewise the Iliad, to centre round an action that in our sense of the word is one. As therefore, in the other imitative arts, the imitation is one when the object imitated is one, so the plot, being an imitation of an action, must imitate one action and that a whole, the structural union of the parts being such that, if any one of them is displaced or removed, the whole will be disjointed and disturbed. For a thing whose presence or absence makes no visible difference, is not an organic part of the whole.

1.09 - SKIRMISHES IN A WAY WITH THE AGE, #Twilight of the Idols, #Friedrich Nietzsche, #Philosophy
  brothers Goncourt, or the two Ajaxes fighting with Homer. Music by
  Offenbach.--Zola, or the love of stinking.

1.107 - The Bestowal of a Divine Gift, #The Study and Practice of Yoga, #Swami Krishnananda, #Yoga
  When we do it for years, naturally it has a fatiguing effect upon the mind. The power of the will may overcome this fatigue, due to which the meditation may be kept up for years together, even towards the fag end of ones life if the power of the will is strong enough. But even Homer nods, as they say. The will, which has been exerting such a pressure upon the vrittis of the mind, may have to take a little leisurely rest due to the exhaustion caused by the effort which it has been putting forth for years together. And a little chidra, as the sutra puts it, a little hole that has been made, is enough for the vrittis to come up. A moments cessation of the vigilance of the will is enough for the hornets of vrittis to come up, buzzing and violent, and they will dart upon the very object from which they have been weaned by the force of the will.
  This is something which cannot be avoided, because no man is omniscient; no man is omnipotent; no man can be called God. And so, it is impossible to avoid these encounters entirely. One day or the other they have to come, and they may come in various forms, various degrees, at different times in ones life. When such a thing happens, what is to be done? When we face the enemy in front of us, what do we do? That is the very same thing that we have to do with these vrittis. Hnam e kleavat uktam (IV.28) is the recipe for this problem. Just as we deal with the klesas which were described in the earlier sutra, so we deal with these encounters. How do we deal with them?

1.10 - The Secret of the Veda, #Vedic and Philological Studies, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  But in spite of this great downfall the ancient tradition, the ancient sanctity survived. The people knew not what Veda might be; but the old idea remained fixed that Veda is always the fountain of Hinduism, the standard of orthodoxy, the repository of a sacred knowledge; not even the loftiest philosopher or the most ritualistic scholar could divest himself entirely of this deeply ingrained & instinctive conception. To complete the degradation of Veda, to consummate the paradox of its history, a new element had to appear, a new form of intelligence undominated by the ancient tradition & the mediaeval method to take possession of Vedic interpretation. European scholarship which regards human civilisation as a recent progression starting yesterday with the Fiji islander and ending today with Haeckel and Rockefeller, conceiving ancient culture as necessarily primitive culture and primitive culture as necessarily half-savage culture, has turned the light of its Comparative Philology & Comparative Mythology on the Veda. The result we all know. Not only all vestige of sanctity, but all pretension to any kind of spiritual knowledge or experience disappears from the Veda. The old Rishis are revealed to us as a race of ignorant and lusty barbarians who drank & enjoyed and fought, gathered riches & procreated children, sacrificed and praised the Powers of Nature as if they were powerful men & women, and had no higher hope or idea. The only idea they had of religion beyond an occasional sense of sin and a perpetual preoccupation with a ritual barbarously encumbered with a mass of meaningless ceremonial details, was a mythology composed of the phenomena of dawn, night, rain, sunshine and harvest and the facts of astronomy converted into a wildly confused & incoherent mass of allegorical images and personifications. Nor, with the European interpretation, can we be proud of our early forefa thers as poets and singers. The versification of the Vedic hymns is indeed noble and melodious,though the incorrect method of writing them established by the old Indian scholars, often conceals their harmonious construction,but no other praise can be given. The Nibelungenlied, the Icelandic Sagas, the Kalewala, the Homeric poems, were written in the dawn of civilisation by semi-barbarous races, by poets not superior in culture to the Vedic Rishis; yet though their poetical value varies, the nations that possess them, need not be ashamed of their ancient heritage. The same cannot be said of the Vedic poems presented to us by European scholarship. Never surely was there even among savages such a mass of tawdry, glittering, confused & purposeless imagery; never such an inane & useless burden of epithets; never such slipshod & incompetent writing; never such a strange & almost insane incoherence of thought & style; never such a bald poverty of substance. The attempt of patriotic Indian scholars to make something respectable out of the Veda, is futile. If the modern interpretation stands, the Vedas are no doubt of high interest & value to the philologist, the anthropologist & the historian; but poetically and spiritually they are null and worthless. Its reputation for spiritual knowledge & deep religious wealth, is the most imposing & baseless hoax that has ever been worked upon the imagination of a whole people throughout many millenniums.
  Is this, then, the last word about the Veda? Or, and this is the idea I write to suggest, is it not rather the culmination of a long increasing & ever progressing error? The theory this book is written to enunciate & support is simply this, that our forefa thers of early Vedantic times understood the Veda, to which they were after all much nearer than ourselves, far better than Sayana, far better than Roth & Max Muller, that they were, to a great extent, in possession of the real truth about the Veda, that that truth was indeed a deep spiritual truth, karmakanda as well as jnanakanda of the Veda contains an ancient knowledge, a profound, complex & well-ordered psychology & philosophy, strange indeed to our modern conception, expressed indeed in language still stranger & remoter from our modern use of language, but not therefore either untrue or unintelligible, and that this knowledge is the real foundation of our later religious developments, & Veda, not only by historical continuity, but in real truth & substance is the parent & bedrock of all later Hinduism, of Vedanta, Sankhya, Nyaya, Yoga, of Vaishnavism & Shaivism&Shaktism, of Tantra&Purana, even, in a remoter fashion, of Buddhism & the later unorthodox religions. From this quarry all have hewn their materials or from this far-off source drawn unknowingly their waters; from some hidden seed in the Veda they have burgeoned into their wealth of branchings & foliage. The ritualism of Sayana is an error based on a false preconception popularised by the Buddhists & streng thened by the writers of the Darshanas,on the theory that the karma of the Veda was only an outward ritual & ceremony; the naturalism of the modern scholars is an error based on a false preconception encouraged by the previous misconceptions of Sayana,on the theory of the Vedas [as] not only an ancient but a primitive document, the production of semi-barbarians. The Vedantic writers of the Upanishads had alone the real key to the secret of the Vedas; not indeed that they possessed the full knowledge of a dialect even then too ancient to be well understood, but they had the knowledge of the Vedic Rishis, possessed their psychology, & many of their general ideas, even many of their particular terms & symbols. That key, less & less available to their successors owing to the difficulty of the knowledge itself & of the language in which it was couched and to the immense growth of outward ritualism, was finally lost to the schools in the great debacle of Vedism induced by the intellectual revolutions of the centuries which immediately preceded the Christian era. - Poetry of the Material or Physical Consciousness, #Letters On Poetry And Art, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The Vedic times were an age in which men lived in the material consciousness as did the heroes of Homer. The Rishis were the mystics of the time and took the frame of their symbolic imagery from the material life around them.
  20 October 1936

1.12 - BOOK THE TWELFTH, #Metamorphoses, #Ovid, #Poetry
  Yet great in Homer, still Achilles lives;
  And equal to himself, himself survives.

1.12 - The Herds of the Dawn, #The Secret Of The Veda, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
   of Helios slain by the companions of Odysseus in the Odyssey, stolen by Hermes from his brother Apollo in the Homeric hymn to Hermes. They are the cows concealed by the enemy Vala, by the Panis; when Madhuchchhandas says to Indra, "Thou didst uncover the hole of Vala of the Cows", he means that Vala is the concealer, the withholder of the Light and it is the concealed
  Light that Indra restores to the sacrificer. The recovery of the lost or stolen cows is constantly spoken of in the Vedic hymns and its sense will be clear enough when we come to examine the legend of the Panis and of the Angirases.

1.13 - Gnostic Symbols of the Self, #Aion, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  them to Oceanus and - in the immortal words of Homer - to
  "the doors of Helios and the land of dreams." "He [Hermes] is
  the truth . . ." 127 Homer then continues: ". . . who owes
  allegiance to Poseidon and knows the sea in all its depths." 128

1.15 - The element of Character in Tragedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Achilles is portrayed by Agathon and Homer.
  These then are rules the poet should observe. Nor should he neglect those appeals to the senses, which, though not among the essentials, are the concomitants of poetry; for here too there is much room for error.

1.16 - Man, A Transitional Being, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  Sri Aurobindo lived in great poverty during his first years in Pondicherry. He was on the police blacklist, far away from those who could have helped him, his mail censored, his every move surveyed by British spies, who were attempting to get him extradited through all sorts of devious maneuvers, including planting compromising papers in his house and then denouncing him to the French police. 294 Once they even tried to kidnap him. Sri Aurobindo would finally be left in peace the day the French police superintendent came to search his room and discovered in his desk drawers the works of Homer. After inquiring whether these writings were "really Greek," the superintendent became so filled with awe and respect for this gentleman-yogi, who read scholarly books and spoke French, that he simply left, never to return. The newcomer could now receive whomsoever he wished and move about as he pleased. Several comrades-in-arms had followed him, waiting for their "leader" to resume the political struggle, but since "the Voice" remained silent,
  Sri Aurobindo did not move. Besides, he saw that the political process was now under way; the spirit of independence had been awakened in his compatriots, and things would follow their inevitable course until India's total liberation, as he had foreseen. Now he had other things to do.

1.19 - Thought, or the Intellectual element, and Diction in Tragedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Next, as regards Diction. One branch of the inquiry treats of the Modes of Utterance. But this province of knowledge belongs to the art of Delivery and to the masters of that science. It includes, for instance,--what is a command, a prayer, a statement, a threat, a question, an answer, and so forth. To know or not to know these things involves no serious censure upon the poet's art. For who can admit the fault imputed to Homer by Protagoras,--that in the words, 'Sing, goddess, of the wrath,' he gives a comm and under the idea that he utters a prayer? For to tell some one to do a thing or not to do it is, he says, a command. We may, therefore, pass this over as an inquiry that belongs to another art, not to poetry.
  author class:Aristotle

1.201 - Socrates, #Symposium, #Plato, #Philosophy
  In his pregnant state he welcomes bodies that are beautiful rather than ugly, and if he comes across one who has a beautiful, noble and gifted soul as well, then he particularly welcomes the combination. In the presence of this person his words immediately flow in abundance about virtue and about the qualities and practices that make for a good man, 209c and he embarks on his education. For I think that by attaching himself to the beautiful and associating with it, which he will be keeping in mind even when absent, he gives birth to and procreates the offspring with which he has long been pregnant, and in company with that other share in nurturing what they have created together. The result is that such a couple have a much closer partnership with each other and a stronger tie of affection than is the case with the parents of mortal children, since the offspring they share in have more beauty and immortality. For anyone who looked at Homer and Hesiod and all the other great poets would envy them because of the kind of offspring they have left behind them, and would rather be the parent of children like these, who have conferred on their progenitors immortal glory and fame, 209d than of ordinary human children.
  For another example, she said, look at the sort of children

1.23 - Epic Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Sicily took place at the same time, but did not tend to any one result, so in the sequence of events, one thing sometimes follows another, and yet no single result is thereby produced. Such is the practice, we may say, of most poets. Here again, then, as has been already observed, the transcendent excellence of Homer is manifest. He never attempts to make the whole war of Troy the subject of his poem, though that war had a beginning and an end. It would have been too vast a theme, and not easily embraced in a single view. If, again, he had kept it within moderate limits, it must have been over-complicated by the variety of the incidents. As it is, he detaches a single portion, and admits as episodes many events from the general story of the war--such as the
  Catalogue of the ships and others--thus diversifying the poem. All other poets take a single hero, a single period, or an action single indeed, but with a multiplicity of parts. Thus did the author of the Cypria and of the Little Iliad. For this reason the Iliad and the Odyssey each furnish the subject of one tragedy, or, at most, of two; while the

1.24 - (Epic Poetry continued.) Further points of agreement with Tragedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Philosophy
  Moreover, the thoughts and the diction must be artistic. In all these respects Homer is our earliest and sufficient model. Indeed each of his poems has a twofold character. The Iliad is at once simple and 'pathetic,' and the Odyssey complex (for Recognition scenes run through it), and at the same time 'ethical.' Moreover, in diction and thought they are supreme.
  Epic poetry differs from Tragedy in the scale on which it is constructed, and in its metre. As regards scale or length, we have already laid down an adequate limit:--the beginning and the end must be capable of being brought within a single view. This condition will be satisfied by poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering in length to the group of tragedies presented at a single sitting.
   Homer, admirable in all respects, has the special merit of being the only poet who rightly appreciates the part he should take himself. The poet should speak as little as possible in his own person, for it is not this that makes him an imitator. Other poets appear themselves upon the scene throughout, and imitate but little and rarely. Homer, after a few prefatory words, at once brings in a man, or woman, or other personage; none of them wanting in characteristic qualities, but each with a character of his own.
  The element of the wonderful is required in Tragedy. The irrational, on which the wonderful depends for its chief effects, has wider scope in Epic poetry, because there the person acting is not seen. Thus, the pursuit of Hector would be ludicrous if placed upon the stage--the Greeks standing still and not joining in the pursuit, and Achilles waving them back. But in the Epic poem the absurdity passes unnoticed.
  Now the wonderful is pleasing: as may be inferred from the fact that every one tells a story with some addition of his own, knowing that his hearers like it. It is Homer who has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skilfully. The secret of it lies in a fallacy, For, assuming that if one thing is or becomes, a second is or becomes, men imagine that, if the second is, the first likewise is or becomes. But this is a false inference. Hence, where the first thing is untrue, it is quite unnecessary, provided the second be true, to add that the first is or has become. For the mind, knowing the second to be true, falsely infers the truth of the first. There is an example of this in the Bath Scene of the Odyssey.
  Accordingly, the poet should prefer probable impossibilities to improbable possibilities. The tragic plot must not be composed of irrational parts. Everything irrational should, if possible, be excluded; or, at all events, it should lie outside the action of the play (as, in the Oedipus, the hero's ignorance as to the manner of Laius' death); not within the drama,--as in the Electra, the messenger's account of the Pythian games; or, as in the Mysians, the man who has come from Tegea to Mysia and is still speechless. The plea that otherwise the plot would have been ruined, is ridiculous; such a plot should not in the first instance be constructed. But once the irrational has been introduced and an air of likelihood imparted to it, we must accept it in spite of the absurdity. Take even the irrational incidents in the Odyssey, where Odysseus is left upon the shore of Ithaca. How intolerable even these might have been would be apparent if an inferior poet were to treat the subject. As it is, the absurdity is veiled by the poetic charm with which the poet invests it.

1.39 - Prophecy, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Occultism
  I hope you are not getting the idea that my Prophetic ambit is limited to these high-falutin' metaphysical masterpieces of Runic Lore. In case you do, I now propose to break your "seven green withs that were never dried" altogether, Delilah; for I shall keep my hair on. I shall go forth to war! From 1920 to 1923 my abode for a season was the house called the Horsel of the Abbey of Thelema that lieth upon Santa Barbara, overlooking the town of Telepylus see Homer and Samuel Butler II, but called later by the Romans Cephaloedium, and now Cefal. There did I toil to expand my little Part III of Book 4 to the portentous volume now more generally known as Magick in Theory and Practice. After numerous misadventures, it was published in 1928.[78]
  I refer you to that book, page 96.

1.43 - Dionysus, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
  spread like wildfire through Greece until the god whom Homer hardly
  deigned to notice had become the most popular figure of the

1.44 - Demeter and Persephone, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
  Persephone is the beautiful Homeric _Hymn to Demeter,_ which critics
  assign to the seventh century before our era. The object of the poem
  authority on the subject, the author of the Homeric hymn to Demeter,
  the riddle is not hard to read; the figures of the two goddesses,
  the Homeric hymn to Demeter, for he not only distinguishes Demeter
  from the personified Earth but places the two in the sharpest
  corn which was so commonly called by her name from the time of Homer
  downwards? The essential identity of mother and daughter is

1.45 - The Corn-Mother and the Corn-Maiden in Northern Europe, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
  the Homeric age, but there are grounds for believing that it is one
  of the oldest, if not the very oldest, cereal cultivated by the

1.47 - Lityerses, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
  west of Asia Minor, as we learn from Homer; and this, combined with
  the legend of Syleus, suggests that in ancient times passing

1f.lovecraft - Poetry and the Gods, #Lovecraft - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
   Then arose Homeros, the ancient among bards, who took his lyre and
   chaunted his hymn to Aphrodite. No word of Greek did Marcia know, yet

1f.lovecraft - The Case of Charles Dexter Ward, #Lovecraft - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
   the Homeric and traversed the long miles to Providence by motor-coach,
   eagerly drinking in the green rolling hills, the fragrant, blossoming

1f.lovecraft - The Last Test, #Lovecraft - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
   with Xenophon and Homer had been more conscientious. There was
   something wrongsomething hideously wronghere, and the governor sank

1.fs - The Iliad, #Schiller - Poems, #Friedrich Schiller, #Poetry
  Tear forever the garland of Homer, and number the fathers
   Of the immortal work, that through all time will survive!

1.fs - The Walk, #Schiller - Poems, #Friedrich Schiller, #Poetry
   See, even Homer's own sun looks on us, too, with a smile!

1.jk - Endymion - Book II, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  O fountain'd hill! Old Homer's Helicon!
  That thou wouldst spout a little streamlet o'er

1.jk - I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  Stepping like Homer at the trumpets call,
  Or young Apollo on the pedestal:

1.jk - Lamia. Part II, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  "Philostratus, in his fourth book 'de Vita Apollonii', hath a memorable instance in this kind, which I may not omit, of one Menippus Lycius, a young man twenty-five years of age, that going betwixt Cenchreas and Corinth, met such a phantasm in the habit of a fair gentlewoman, which taking him by the hand, carried him home to her house, in the suburbs of Corinth, and told him she was a Phoenician by birth, and if he would tarry with her, he should hear her sing and play, and drink such wine as never any drank, and no man should molest him; but she, being fair and lovely, would live and die with him, that was fair and lovely to behold. The young man, a philosopher, otherwise staid and discreet, able to moderate his passions, though not this of love, tarried with her a while to his great content, and at last married her, to whose wedding, amongst other guests, came Apollonius; who, by some probable conjectures, found her out to be a serpent, a lamia; and that all her furniture was, like Tantalus' gold, descried by Homer, no substance but mere illusions. When she saw herself descried, she wept, and desired Apollonius to be silent, but he would not be moved, and thereupon she, plate, house, and all that was in it, vanished in an instant: many thousands took notice of this fact, for it was done in the midst of Greece." ~ Burton's 'Anatomy of Melancholy.' Part 3. Sect. 2. Memb. 1. Subs. 1.
  ~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

1.jk - Ode To Apollo, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  Here Homer with his nervous arms
  Strikes the twanging harp of war,

1.jk - Sonnet To Homer, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  object:1.jk - Sonnet To Homer
  author class:John Keats
  'This admirable sonnet also occurs in manuscript in Sir Charles Dilke's copy of Endymion, and was included, like the Sonnet "When I have fears", in the Literary Remains (1848). The date given in both places is 1818. The evidence of the manuscript on this point is of consequence as bearing on the relative positions of this sonnet and that 'On first looking into Chapman's Homer'.
  I understand the "giant ignorance" of line I to have reference to Keats's inability to enjoy Homer in the original Greek, and not to an entire ignorance of the Iliad and Odyssey such as might have characterized the period before the sonnet on Chapman's version was written in 1816. Indeed the second quatrain seems to me to be too well felt for so vague an attitude as Keats's must have been towards Homer before he knew any version at all; but the late Dante Gabriel Rossetti, whose intuitions in such matters were of the keenest, and entitled to the most careful consideration, held that the present sonnet must have preceded that of 1816, and received with considerable reserve the evidence as to the date which I communicated to him in the course of our correspondence. It will be of interest to many lovers both of Keats and of Rossetti to learn that the latter poet whom we have but lately lost considered this sonnet to contain Keats's finest single line of poetry --
  'There is a budding morrow in midnight,'

1.jk - Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapmans Homer, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  object:1.jk - Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapmans Homer
  author class:John Keats
      That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
      Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
  'Charles Cowden Clarke says, in the article in The Gentleman's Magazine [Feb. 1874], that this sonnet was sent to him by Keats so as to reach him at 10 o'clock one morning when they two had parted "at day-spring" after a night encounter with a copy of Chapman's Homer belonging to Mr. Alsager of The Times. Mr. F. Locker possess an undated manuscript of the sonnet in Keast's writing, headed "On the first looking into Chapman's Homer;" while in Tom Keats's copy-book the heading is "Sonnet on looking into Chapman's Homer," and the date "1816."
  ~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

1.jlb - Chess, #Borges - Poems, #Jorge Luis Borges, #Poetry
  Their magic rules: Homeric castle, knight
  Swift to attack, queen warlike, king decisive,

1.lovecraft - The Poe-ets Nightmare, #Lovecraft - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  Like Homer's well-known catalogue of ships)
  This much we swear: that as adjournment near'd,

1.lovecraft - To Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkelt,, #Lovecraft - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  O'er Homer's page a second time we pore,
  And rack our brains for gleams of infant lore:

1.pbs - Hellas - A Lyrical Drama, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  Note by Mrs. Shelley: 'Hellas was among the last of his compositions, and is among the most beautiful. The choruses are singularly imaginative, and melodious in their versification. There are some stanzas that beautifully exemplify Shelley's peculiar style; as, for instance, the assertion of the intellectual empire which must be for ever the inheritance of the country of Homer, Sophocles, and Plato:--
  ''But Greece and her foundations are

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Castor And Pollux, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Castor And Pollux
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Minerva, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Minerva
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Earth - Mother Of All, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Earth - Mother Of All
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Moon, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Moon
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Sun, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To The Sun
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Venus, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  object:1.pbs - Homers Hymn To Venus
  author class:Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.pbs - Hymn To Mercury, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. This alone of the Translations is included in the Harvard manuscript book. Fragments of the drafts of this and the other Hymns of Homer exist among the Boscombe manuscripts (Forman).

1.pbs - Lines Written Among The Euganean Hills, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  As the ghost of Homer clings
  Round Scamander's wasting springs;

1.pbs - The Witch Of Atlas, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  Or on blind Homer's heart a wingd thought,--
  In joyous expectation lay the boat.

1.rb - Cleon, #Browning - Poems, #Robert Browning, #Poetry
   I have not chanted verse like Homer, no
   Nor swept string like Terpander, nonor carved - May-Day, #Emerson - Poems, #Ralph Waldo Emerson, #Philosophy
  Not Homer's self, the poet sire,
  Wise Milton's odes of pensive pleasure, - Solution, #Emerson - Poems, #Ralph Waldo Emerson, #Philosophy
  And earth grow civil, Homer Sung.
  Flown to Italy from Greece,

1.wby - A Woman Homer Sung, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  object:1.wby - A Woman Homer Sung
  author class:William Butler Yeats
  A woman Homer sung,
  That life and letters seem

1.wby - Coole Park 1929, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  Though mounted in that saddle Homer rode
  Where the swan drifts upon a darkening flood.

1.wby - Coole Park And Ballylee, 1931, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  Though mounted in that saddle Homer rode
  Where the swan drifts upon a darkening flood.

1.wby - Mad As The Mist And Snow, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  Horace there by Homer stands,
  Plato stands below,
  And many-minded Homer were
  Mad as the mist and snow.

1.wby - Meditations In Time Of Civil War, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  Mere dreams, mere dreams! Yet Homer had not Sung
  Had he not found it certain beyond dreams

1.wby - Peace, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  That could show what Homer's age
  Bred to be a hero's wage.

1.wby - The Double Vision Of Michael Robartes, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  By Homer's Paragon
  Who never gave the burning town a thought;

1.wby - The Tower, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  With Homer that was a blind man,
  And Helen has all living hearts betrayed.

1.wby - Vacillation, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  i{The Heart.} What theme had Homer but original sin?

1.ww - Book Fifth-Books, #Wordsworth - Poems, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  From Homer the great Thunderer, from the voice
  That roars along the bed of Jewish song,

2.03 - Karmayogin A Commentary on the Isha Upanishad, #Isha Upanishad, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  Valmekie and Homer and Vyasa, the philosophies of Kant and
  Shankara; it has harnessed the forces of Nature to do its bidding;

2.05 - On Poetry, #Evening Talks With Sri Aurobindo, #unset, #Integral Yoga
   It was he who gave me the clue to the hexameter verse in English. He read out a line from Homer which he thought was the best line and that gave me the swing of the metre. There is really no successful hexameter in English. Matthew Arnold and his friends have attempted it but they have failed.
   Disciple: I thought Yeats has written it.
   Sri Aurobindo: Plenty of people have written it. But this is dactylic hexameter, the metre in which the epics of Homer and Virgil are written. It has a very fine movement and is very suitable for the epic. I have tried it and X and Y have seen and considered it a success. I remember just a few lines:
   Old and alone he arrived, insignificant, feeblest of mortals,
   Sri Aurobindo: Homer has written on war and action. Can one say that those who write on many subjects are greater than Homer? Sappho wrote only on one subject. Can we say therefore she is not great? What about Milton and Mirabai?
   Disciple: What Tagore wants to say is that to be a perfect poet one must have variety.
   Sri Aurobindo: The girl there is created out of Tagore's mind. For example, when you read Hamlet, you become Hamlet you feel you are Hamlet. When you read Homer, you see Achilles living and moving and you become Achilles. That is what I mean by creativeness. On the other hand, in Shelley's "Skylark" there is no skylark at all. You do not become a skylark, through that poem the poet has only expressed his own ideas and feelings. Take his line,
   Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
   Sri Aurobindo: Milton, Homer and everybody else perhaps!
   Disciple: Among our poets here do you find X great?

2.16 - The Magick Fire, #Liber ABA, #Aleister Crowley, #Occultism
  13:This "Astral Plane" has been described by Homer in the Odyssey. Here are Polyphemus and the Lstrygons, here Calypso and the Sirens. Here, too, are those things which many have imagined to be the "spirits" of the dead. If the student once take any of these things for truth, he must worship it, since all truth is worshipful. In such a case he is lost; the phantom will have power over him; it will obsess him.
  14:As long as an idea is being examined you are free from it. There is no harm in a man's experiments with opium-smoking or feeding on nuts; but the moment he ceases to examine, to act from habit and without reflection, he is in trouble. We all of us eat too much, because people, liveried and obsequious, have always bustled up five times daily with six months' provisions, and it was less trouble to feed and be done with it, than to examine the question whether we were hungry. If you cook your own food, you soon find that you don't cook more or less than you want; and health returns. If, however, you go to the other extreme and think of nothing but diet, you are almost sure to acquire that typical form of melancholia, in which the patient is convinced that all the world is in league to poison him. Professor Schweinhund has shown that beef causes goat; Professor Naschtikoff proves that milk causes consumption. Sir Ruffon Wratts tells us that old age is brought on by eating cabbage. By and by you reach the state of which Mr. Hereward Carrington makes his proud boast: your sole food is chocolate, which you chew unceasingly, even in your dreams. Yet no sooner have you taken it into you than you awake to the terrible truth demonstrated by Guterbock Q. Hosenscheisser, Fourth Avenue, Grand Rapids, that chocolate is the cause of constipation, and constipation of cancer, and proceed to get it out of you by means of an enema which would frighten a camel into convulsions. - The World's Greatest Poets, #Letters On Poetry And Art, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  When I said there were no greater poets than Homer and Shakespeare, I was thinking of their essential poetic force and beautynot of the scope of their work as a whole, for there are poets greater in their range. The Mahabharata is from that point of view a far greater creation than the Iliad, the Ramayana than the Odyssey, and either spreads its strength and its achievement over a larger field than the whole dramatic world of Shakespeare; both are built on an almost cosmic vastness of plan and take all human life (the Mahabharata all human thought as well) in their scope and touch too on things which the Greek and Elizabethan poets could not even glimpse. But as poetsas masters of rhythm and language and the expression of poetic beautyVyasa and Valmiki are not inferior, but also not greater than the English or the Greek poet. We can leave aside for the moment the question whether the Mahabharata was not the creation of the mind of a people rather than of a single poet, for that doubt has been raised also with regard to Homer.
  You once spoke of Goe the as not being one of the worlds absolutely supreme singers. Who are these, then? Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Valmiki, Kalidasa? And what about Aeschylus, Virgil and Milton?
  I suppose all the names you mention except Goe the can be included; or if you like you can put them all including Goe the in three rowse.g.:
  1st row Homer, Shakespeare, Valmiki
  2nd row Dante, Kalidasa, Aeschylus, Virgil, Milton

2.22 - THE STILLEST HOUR, #Thus Spoke Zarathustra, #Friedrich Nietzsche, #Philosophy
  from his early fragment, Homer's Contest, to his Antichrist.
  There are few problems the self-styled immoralist pursued - Some General Remarks, #Letters On Poetry And Art, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Amal is rather fond of high notes in his criticism, (an essay he sent long ago on the Ashram poetswhat a phrase!made me aghast with horror at its Pindaricor rather Swinburneantone, it gave me an impression that Homer and Shakespeare and Valmiki had all been beaten into an insignificant jelly by our magnificent creations.) He is also sometimes too elaborately ingenious in his hunt for detail significances. But what he says is usually acute and interesting and, when he drives his pen instead of letting it gallop away with him, he can write exceedingly well.
  His selection from your poems is not so surprising. Everyone reacts to poetry in his own way and except with regard to long established favourites from the classics few would make the same choice. Give ten good critics the task of selecting the best lines of Shakespeare, avoiding stock passages, and the ten will each make a different listand probably Shakespeare himself would disagree with all the ten. That must be still more the case with a contemporary poet where all is new stuff with no indications except ones own personal reactions. I myself do not agree with your condemnation of these pieces to the W. P. B.

24.05 - Vision of Dante, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 06, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Dante is known as a great poet and also as a great seer: Sri Aurobindo mentions him as one of the very greatest. He names three as the supreme poets of Europe, of the very first rank: Homer of ancient Greece, Dante in the Middle Ages, and nearer to us, Shakespeare. Along with these Sri Aurobindo mentions also Valmiki of India. However I shall speak of Dante not so much as a poet but as a seer: as such he was a Traveller of the Worlds in the path of the life Divine in his own way; His poem is his autobiography. He speaks of his long journey, even like King Aswapathy in Sri Aurobindo's Savitri,as a traveller of the worlds. Dante describes his journey through the three worlds well-known in Christian theology. He begins in this way his great poem:
   I was in the middle of my life's journey, suddenly one day unexpectedly I found myself in the very heart of a mighty forest. It is a wild, grim, frightful placeselva selvaggia ed aspra e forte.

30.01 - World-Literature, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   We shall now try to probe to the bottom the question why the literature which we call plebeian or popular cannot form the best literature. The reason we have indicated is that such literature is exclusively confined to a particular time and clime; the free air of the world, the myriad waves of the vast cosmic life have no play there, it does not see man and creation in the perspective of the universe as a whole. That is not the sole reason of the matter, but we should clearly understand the deeper implication of this thing. For universal feeling does not necessarily mean cosmopolitanism. It is not true that a literature must be beautiful and sublime simply because it has connection and acquaintance with all the ages and countries and that it will be parochial precisely because it lacks these things. Cosmopolitanism is a thing especially of the modern age. In the days of yore there was not that close association and exchange of culture among different countries as we now find. It was not possible for our forefa thers to know and assimilate the gifts of other civilisations as we can do now. But who would merely on this ground dare to say that the literature of the ancient peoples was unrefined or insignificant? A Turgeniev, an Amiel, a Leconte de Lisle or a Pierre Loti can take birth only. in the present age. Dante, Homer, Valmiki or the most ancient Vedic sages - none of them, like Turgeniev, Amiel, Leconte de Lisle or Pierre Loti, sought for the tales of various other ages and countries, and yet have these modern poets and litterateurs been able to create anything similar to that standard world-literature?
   The sense of universality means transcending the limitations of time and clime. Now, the main reason why man remains confined to a particular time and clime is this that he clings to a particular avocation or religion or institution - his very nature is to live within the confines of time and space. External life (life of the outside world) - that is to say, mixing with men of various countries, acquaintance and intimacy with the experiences and realisations of the different countries and epochs - can and do break and melt the narrowness to a considerable degree but cannot remove it altogether. For what is required is to cast a look at ourselves, to change something of our inner nature. One who has not been able to change this inner attitude will not get any genuine universality or all-pervading sovereignty even if he travels over the whole world. So what is required is to discover the universal soul in the heart and not outside. And, for that, three boundaries have to be crossed, three walls overleaped and this also in our inner being, in our inner chamber. The Vedic sage Shunahshepa says that the God Varuna has three knots and they have to be cut away: then and then alone man will ascend to the infinite wideness of Varuna and will get the limitless and unfathomable ocean of delight of Eternal Life. And what are these three knots? They are the knots of the Body, the Vital and the Mind. For the poets and litterateurs too there are three similar knots. First, the knot of the body, that is to say, the physical sight, mere perception of the senses - to accept that which is external as absolute truth and to draw a picture of the outer form visible to the eyes and palpable by the senses. In literature it has been termed 'realism'. A thing must be shown exactly as it is seen with the physical eyes: this means that art is a photograph of nature, and it is the principle of 'realism'. We can express in one word the objections that have been or may be raised against 'realism': it has neither given nor can give birth to true or universal literature. For where do we find the universe, the whole? That is not in the external, not in the body. What is exclusively external, what is merely a body is only a narrow field of differences and divisions and strifes. True, there is some concrete union or harmony of the universe. But so long as we remain bound to the body we cannot get a gleam of that thing. This is as much the case with the aspirant soul as with the artist. The artist who is engrossed with the exterior is compelled to be confined to a particular time and space. He is only archaeological in his outlook. He is likely to collect some materials for art but he himself cannot create anything of his own. The paintings of Ravi Varma can never be placed in the comity of the world, for we find there only the outer sheath, devoid of life. No doubt that sheath may awaken some curiosity for its grotesqueness but never can it touch the heart. If Zola or Goncourt deserves a place in the assembly of nations, then I believe it is not for 'realism' but for something else, although 'realism' is in abundance there.

30.02 - Greek Drama, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides are the three supreme creators of drama in ancient Greece, each of them is different from the others. Aeschylus the senior most of the three has vision and spirit and strength. He throws out the spark and lustre of inner knowledge, there is in him a swift natural movement of a primal concentrated consciousness. He is therefore allotted a seat in the very first rank, with Shakespeare, Dante and Homer. Sophocles reminds one of the French dramatists with their restraint and measure, their skill in delineating subtle feeling. There is here nothing in excess, but there is a sense of subdued force and a suggestion of all-round perfection.
   Euripides on the other hand has in him all the doubts and questionings of the human mind, all its curiosity and comment. He reaches out towards the modern mentality, has almost come in line with it.

30.04 - Intuition and Inspiration in Art, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Again the same difference is apparent between the ancient and the modern. Sparks of intuition are scattered all over the ancient arts, and inspiration marks the modern. The Renaissance of Europe failed in its attempt, however sincere, at imitating the intuition of Homer and Virgil of the remote past and unwittingly managed to usher in the epoch of inspiration. Dante was the harbinger of the spirit of this new age, while Shakespeare of the English and Ronsard of the French developed and exampled it in the comity of cultures. Again the glimpses of intuition that we come across in the inspiration of Dante, Shakespeare and Ronsard have further diminished in Shelley, Byron and Hugo. Finally, inspiration has become all in all among the modern and the ultra-modern artists including the Symbolists and the Impressionists of whom Paul Verlaine at one time was a leader.
   It may be said that to a great extent in the East the whole of Sanskrit literature was founded on intuition. In the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Ramayana and even in the Mahabharata, very often we find instances where the rein of knowledge has prevented the emotion and the zeal of the heart from running riot. In fact the speciality of Indian art does not lie so much in the play of colours as in the drawing of lines. Colour gives the tinge of the vital urge, while it is the lines that create here the real beauty by circumscribing or delimiting the object in view. Indian sculpture and architecture embody, the quintessential spirit and gracefulness of intuition.

30.05 - Rhythm in Poetry, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   It is in this hexameter that Homer has composed his wonderful epics with their sublime poetry. I do not wish to plague you with too many quotations from the original Greek, but let me recite the opening line of Homer's Iliad:
   Mnin a/iede, the/a, P/l/iado Achi/los

30.06 - The Poet and The Seer, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   It may also be remembered in this connection that portraiture and image making are prohibited in the Hebrew and the Mohammedan religions. Do you not see what a low opinion of the gods is entertained by such a great poet as Homer? In what respect are such gods superior to men? All the weaknesses of men are found in them, perhaps on a bigger scale, in a more hideous form. These gods are recommended for worship by poets!
   The poet indulges imagination and is by nature human in the extreme. Poetry has no direct relation or inseparable connection at all with truth. The worshipper of truth will find in poetry no utterance worthy of acceptance. Especially the poet will not be able to furnish any clue to the truth that lies beyond the ken of the human mind, beyond all that can be grasped by the daily experiences and perceptions of men, and that truth which is really the deepest and supreme in men. Plato's reasoning amounts to this in modern terms.

30.07 - The Poet and the Yogi, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Aristotle's preceptor, Plato, draws our attention to this side of poetry - the illusory charming power of poetry. No doubt, the world of the poet is charming. But it is equally the world of falsehood. Plato was religious to the marrow. The main cause of his looking upon the poets with considerable displeasure is that in their creations - e.g. Homer - the gods have an inferior nature even to that of a human being. It is an absurdity on the face of it. Having turned falsehood and an evil ideal into a thing of grace and delight the poets place it before man and thus they keep him away from truth, beauty and bliss.
   Of course, it cannot be affirmed that in the poetic creation there can be no illusory power of Ignorance. No doubt, there are poets who have either blurred their spirituality or their inner soul by resorting to poetry. But in that case we can safely affirm that it is the poet and not his poetic creation that is in fault. It is absolutely a personal affair. If things are to be judged in this light, then there is not even a single object which does not stand as an obstacle to one's inner spiritual discipline.

30.08 - Poetry and Mantra, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Let us now focus our attention on something else. When we study the Gita or the Upanishads or the Vedas, the idea never flashes across our mind that we are reading poetry; our consciousness enjoys a delight which surpasses that of poetry. Here is a clear proof. When we speak of genuine poetry, we hardly think of the Veda-Upanishad-Gita. To serve our purpose we immediately resort to the works of Valmiki, Kalidasa and Bhavabhuti. Yet, as a matter of fact, the Gita, the Upanishads and the Vedas can easily stand on the same footing with the greatest poetry. However natural or mundane may be the delight in poetic creation, it can never surpass the poetic greatness of the mantra. Neither the ancient poet Valmiki nor even Homer or Shakespeare are an exception. It is said that "the highest art is to conceal art". The famous poets of to-day cannot so easily conceal themselves in their poetic creation as did the poets of the Veda-Upanishad-Gita. When the Upanishad says,
   "This is the highest Refuge, the Refuge supreme,
   From this point of view Milton and Virgil may be looked upon as mere poets. Those who consider Shakespeare, Homer and Valmiki superior to Milton, Virgil and Kalidasa come to such a conclusion from a subtler consideration. One group of poets makes use of vaikhari vak, while the other of pasyanti vak.
   Seer as poet and poet as poet are different, because of their difference in speech. Vaikhari vak is the word that stands in its own value and glory, maintains its own separate dignity and greatness, giving free scope to the inherent power of sound, voice and articulation. Hence the inner Being, the true Being of delight, does not always relish even the sweet noise - as Hamlet speaks out: it is all words, words, words - or as Jayadeva declares:

30.10 - The Greatness of Poetry, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   The moderns may ask: "Is it obligatory that one should have a great soul in order to be, a great poet?" In the hoary past it was almost so. Valmiki, Vyasa and Homer rightly deserve to fall into that category. But the ancient Latin Catullus, the French poet Villon of the medieval age, most of the 'Satanic' poets of the Romantic age, and Oscar Wilde and Rimbaud of the present age - none of them are great souls or possess anything remarkably spiritual in their nature. But on that score can we ever deny or belittle their poetic genius? True, ethics and aesthetics are two radically different things, At times these two may act together. Aesthetics may come into prominence from time to time under the guidance of ethics or take its support. But there is no indivisible relation between the two.
   It is here that a great confusion arises for the admirers of ethics and those of 'aesthetics. Ethics signifies morality, an ideal life and a correct conduct in one's dealings with others. But, as 'a matter of fact, we do not look upon the nature of the Psychic Being or the inner Self in that way. It is something deeper and higher than morality. Even in the absence of morality and good conduct the virtue of the inner Self can remain unimpaired. The virtue of the inner Self does not necessarily depend upon the good qualities of one's character. The Psychic Being is the true nature of the inherent consciousness in the being. Its manifestation may not take place in one's outer conduct or one's day-to-day activities, but it can be discerned in a peculiar turn of one's nature. Byron, in his outer life, was very uncomely and violent. But it was that self-same Byron who stood forth for the oppressed and offered his life for their freedom. Byron here represents the inner magnanimous heart. It is here, in this poetic utterance, that the urge of his inner Self has manifested itself:

30.16 - Tagore the Unique, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   IT is no hyperbole to say that Tagore is to Bengali literature what Shakespeare is to English, Goe the to German, Tolstoy to Russian, or Dante to Italian and, to go into the remoter past, what Virgil was to Latin and Homer to Greek or, in our country, what Kalidasa was to ancient Sanskrit. Each of these stars of the first magnitude is a king, a paramount ruler in his own language and literature, and that for two reasons. First, whatever formerly was immature, undeveloped, has become after them mature, whatever was provincial or plebian has become universal and refined; whatever was too personal has come to be universal. The first miracle performed by these great figures was to turn a
   parochial language and a parochial literature into a world language and a world literature. The second was to unfold the inner strength and the deeper genius of the language to reveal and establish the nature and uniqueness of a nation's creative spirit as well as the basic principle of its evolution and culture. These two ways, one tending to expansion, the other to profundity, are in many cases mutually dependent and are often the result of a sudden or rapid outburst.
   These thoughts about the genius of French occurred to me because it seemed to me that there was a marked analogy in this respect between French and Bengali. Certainly it would not be quite' correct to say that the evolution of the Bengali language was slow and steady like that of French. At least one upheaval, a revolution, has taken place on its coming into contact with Europe; under its influence our language and literature have taken a turn that is almost an about-turn. But this revolution was not caused by a single person. Dante and Homer are the creators, originators or the peerless presiding deities of Italian and Greek respectively. Properly speaking Tagore may not be classed with them. But just as Shakespeare may be said to have led the English language across the border or as Tolstoy made the Russian language join hands with the wide world or as Virgil and Goe the imparted a fresh life and bloom, a fuller awakening of the soul of poetry, to Latin and to German, so too is Tagore the paramount and versatile poetic genius of Bengal who made the Bengali language transcend its parochial character. I think that Tagore has in many ways the title and position of a Racine amongst us. There is a special quality, a music and rhythm, a fine sensibility of the inner soul of Bengal. Its uniqueness is in its heart; a sweet ecstasy, an intoxicating magic which Chandidas was the first to bring out in its poignant purity and which has been nourished by Bankim, has attained the full manifestation of maturity, variety, intensity and perfection in Rabindranath. Here too an aspect of supreme elegance is found. Bengali, like French, has a natural ease of flow. Madhusudan took up another line and sought to bring in an austere and masculine element - laCorneille. Some among the modern writers are endeavouring to revive that line and naturalise it; even then the soft elegance, the lyric grace so natural to the language has attained almost its acme in Tagore. To be sure, among us Tagore is the one without a second.

3.01 - Forms of Rebirth, #The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  2 Cf. the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, verses 480-82: "Blessed is he among men
  who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and has no part in them,
  (Trans, by Evelyn-White, Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns and Homerica, p. 323.)
  And in an Eleusinian epitaph we read:

3.05 - Cerberus And Furies, And That Lack Of Light, #Of The Nature Of Things, #Lucretius, #Poetry
  Among whom Homer, sceptered o'er them all
  Now lies in slumber sunken with the rest.

31.10 - East and West, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   Let us try to throw more light on this difference so that we may comprehend the synthetic ideal more clearly. We wilt now compare and contrast, for example, the genius of Valmiki and that of Shakespeare in the field of literature. On reading Shakespeare a stamp of characters that are human is left on our mind, and Valmiki impresses us with characters that are superhuman. Shakespeare has depicted men solely as human beings, while Valmiki read into men the symbol of some larger and higher truth. In the works of Shakespeare we feel the touch of material life and enjoy the savour of earthly pleasure, the embrace of physical bodies with each other, as it were. But Valmiki deals with experiences and realities that exceed the bounds of ordinary earthly life. Hamlet, Macbeth and King Lear are the highlights of Shakespearae's creation. Valmiki's heroes and heroine are Rama, Ravana and Sita. The characters depicted by Shakespeare are men as men are or would be. But even the human characters of Valmiki contain something of the super-human, they overflow the bounds of humanity. It is not so difficult for us to grasp the clashes of sentiments that go to make up the character of Hamlet, for we are already quite familiar with them in our life; whereas the character of Rama which is not at all complex can yet hardly be adequately measured. There is a mystic vastness behind the character which can never be classed with human traits. Indeed, Rama and Ravana both are two aspects of the same Infinite. Even the drama of their earthly life is not merely founded on human qualities. The East wants to explore the Infinite, while the West wants to delve into the finite. Homer, the father of Western literature, is an illustrative example. The men of Homer's world, however mighty and powerful they may be, are after all human beings. Achilles and Hector are but the royal editions or dignified versions of our frail human nature. Never do they reflect the Infinite. The gift of the West is to bring to the fore the speciality of the finite through the senses. Plato himself did not like very much the Homerian god who to him was only "human - all too human." The gift of the East on the other hand is to manifest the Infinite and the Truth beyond the grasp of the senses with the aid of the finite, with the senses as a means.
   Our object will be served better if we compare Oriental painting and sculpture with the Occidental. Let us compare the image of Venus with that of the Buddha. Wherein lies the difference? The goddess Venus is in no way superior to a human being. A finely modelled face, well-formed limbs, beautifully chiselled nose, eyes, ears, forehead - in one word, she is the paragon of beauty. Softness and loveliness are reflected in her every limb. The Greek goddess marks the highest human conception of beauty and love. But the image of the Buddha is not entirely flawless. No doubt, it is the figure of a human being, but an anatomist will certainly be able to point out many defects and flaws of composition in it. The image of the Buddha in the state of deep self-absorption does not represent a manin contemplation, but it is a symbol of concentration; it is meditation personified. This is the special character of Oriental Art. Oriental Art does not try to express sentiment and emotion through an exact portrayal. Its object is to give an adequate form to the idea itself. The Buddhist sculptor gives an expression to the supernatural state of realisation which the Buddha attained when he was on the verge of losing himself in Nirvana. The sculptor is not concerned with the elegance or correctness of the bodily limbs; his only care is to see how far the abstract idea has been expressed. Wrinkles of thought or the smoothness of peace on the forehead, fire of anger or spark of love in the eyes, the extraordinarily robust and highly muscular limbs of a man, and smooth and soft creeper-like flowing arms of a woman - such are the elements on which the Occidental artist has laid emphasis to show or demonstrate the play of psychological factors. The Oriental artist looked to the eternal truth that lies behind the attitudes of the mind and the body; he has not laboured to manifest the external gestures, the physical changes that are visible in our day-to-day life; the little that had to be done in this connection was executed in such a manner as to make it coincide with or merge into the idea of the truth itself - it became the very body of the idea. The Oriental sculptor has perpetuated in stone the eternal concepts of knowledge, compassion, energy, etc. - various glimpses of the infinite - through the images of Bodhisattwa, Avalokiteshwar, Nataraj and other deities. Raphael has succeeded in imparting a divine expression to motherhood in the visage of his Madonna, but that too is not Oriental Art. The image of the Madonna represents an ideal mother, and not motherhood. The Madonna may be called the acme of the emotional creation, but in the image of the Buddha the percepts of a suprasensual consciousness have been heaped up. The East wants to discover the true nature, the truth of things present in the ultimate unity, the Infinite. The West dwells in the finite, the diverse, the duality.

33.07 - Alipore Jail, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   In the midst of all this, Sri Aurobindo occupied his little corner engrossed most of the time in his sadhana and meditations. But occasionally he too did not hesitate to join in our childish pranks. One day I asked to hear from him something in the Greek language. He gave us a recital of ten or twelve lines from Homer. That was the first time I listened to Greek verse.
   Such was the picture of our outer life. But how about the inner feelings? There a fire had been smouldering. Barin had suggested that it would be easier and more feasible if we tried to make good our escape from jail itself, for we used to take our strolls in the yard adjoining the compound wall and the sentries also did not seem to be much too alert. Revolvers began to be collected - in what manner I shall explain later. But how did we hide them? Well, I had one in my keeping. On .one side of the mound we used as a bed I had made a hole. In order to prevent discovery and lest the sentries should know, I used to sit with my back against the mound and go on digging with my bare hands from behind. The earth was removed to either side and covered with the blanket. In this way the pistol could be kept hidden in a cavity within my "bed". The opening was plastered over with mud and then covered up with a tin plate on which they served us meals. But what happened to the pistol I left buried in this way I do not know. For as these plans and preparations were getting under way, there came a bolt from the blue, a deluge that swept away everything like a house of cards. It was Kanai and Satyen who had brought that about.

33.11 - Pondicherry II, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
   I should tell you what one gains by this method, at least what has been my personal experience. One feels as if one took a plunge into the inmost core of the language, into that secret heart where it is vibrant with life, with the quintessence of beauty, the fullness of strength. Perhaps it was this that has prompted me to write prose-poems and verse in French, for one feels as if identified with the very genius of the language. This is the method which Western critics describe as being in medias res, getting right into the heart of things. One may begin a story in two ways. One way is to begin at the beginning, from the adikada and Genesis, and then develop the theme gradually, as is done in the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, the Bible. The other method is to start suddenly, from the middle of the story, a method largely preferred by Western artists, like Homer and Shakespeare for instance.
   But it was not found possible for Sri Aurobindo to continue with his own studies or even to help us in ours. For, as I have already hinted, our mode of living, our life itself took a different turn with the arrival of the Mother. How and in what direction? It was like this. The Mother came and installed Sri Aurobindo on his high pedestal of Master and Lord of Yoga. We had hitherto known him as a dear friend and close companion, and although in our mind and heart be had the position of a Guru, in our outward relations we seemed to behave as if he were just like one of ourselves. He too had been averse to the use of the words "Guru" and "Ashram" in relation to himself, for there was hardly a place 'in his work of new creation for the old traditional associations these words conveyed. Nevertheless, the Mother taught by her manner and speech, and showed us in actual practice, what was the meaning of disciple and master; she has always practised what she preached. She showed us, by not taking her seat in front of or on the same level as Sri Aurobindo, but by sitting on the ground, what it meant to be respectful to one's Master, what was real courtesy. Sri Aurobindo once said to us, perhaps with a tinge of regret, "I have tried to stoop as low as I can, and yet you do not reach me." - Fiction-Writing and Sadhana, #Letters On Poetry And Art, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  There is obviously nothing on their surface connecting the two. It may have been that the literary quality of the Essays and its depth of thought satisfied some ideal in your temperament and therefore put you into touch with the creative force behind you. A poet for instance can feel himself stimulated enough to creation after reading Homer, yet his own work may be quite different, not epic at all and dealing with quite another order of ideas and things. It is only that the reading stimulates his inner being to create, but according to its own quite different way and purpose.
  26 October 1935

3.6.01 - Heraclitus, #Essays In Philosophy And Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Not only between being and being, force and force is there war, but within each there is an eternal opposition, a tension of contraries, and it is this tension which creates the balance necessary to harmony. Harmony then there is, for cosmos itself is in its result a harmony; but it is so because in its process it is war, tension, opposition, a balance of eternal contraries. Real peace there cannot be, unless by peace you mean a stable tension, a balance of power between hostile forces, a sort of mutual neutralisation of excesses. Peace cannot create, cannot maintain anything, and Homer's prayer that war might perish from among Gods and men is a monstrous absurdity, for that would mean the end of the world. A periodic end there may be, not by peace or reconciliation, but by conflagration, by an attack of Fire, to pur epelthon, a fiery judgment and conviction. Force created the world, Force is the world, Force by its violence maintains the world, Force shall end the world,-and eternally re-create it.
  *** - Rebirth, Evolution, Heredity, #Essays In Philosophy And Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  When we come to mind, we seehow could it be otherwise in an embodied mind?a response, interaction, connection, a correspondence if you will; but no amount of correspondence can show how a physical response can be converted into or amount to or by itself constitute in result a conscious operation, a perception, emotion, thought-concept, or prove that love is a chemical product or that Platos theory of ideas or Homers Iliad or the cosmic consciousness of the Yogin was only a combination of physiological reactions or a complex of the changes of grey brain matter or a flaming marvel of electrical discharges. It is not only that common sense and imagination boggle at these theories,that objection may be disregarded,not only that perception, reason and intuition have to be thrust aside in favour of a forced and too extended inference, but that there is a gulf of difference here between the thing to be explained and the thing by which it is sought to explain it which cannot be filled up, however much we may admit nervous connections and psycho-physical bridges. And if the physical scientist points to a number of indicative facts and hopes one day to triumph over these formidable difficulties, there is growing up on the other side an incipient mass of psychical phenomena which are likely to drown his theory in fathomless waters. The insuperability of these always evident objections is beginning to be more widely recognised, but since the past still holds considerable sway, it is necessary to insist on them so that we may have the clear right to go on to more liberal hypotheses which do not try prematurely to reduce to a mechanical simplicity the problem of our being.
  One of these is the ancient view that not only incidence of body and life on mind and soul, but incidence of mind and soul on body and life have to be considered. Here too there is the evolutionary idea, but physical and life evolution, even the growth of mind, are held to be only incidental to a soul evolution of which Time is the course and the earth among many other worlds the theatre. In the old Indian version of this theory evolution, heredity and rebirth are three companion processes of the universal unfolding, evolution the processional aim, rebirth the main method, heredity one of the physical conditions. That is a theory which provides at least the framework for a harmonious explanation of all the complex elements of the problem. The scientific idea starts from physical being and makes the psychical a result and circumstance of body; this other evolutionary idea starts from soul and sees in the physical being an instrumentation for the awakening to itself of a spirit absorbed in the universe of Matter.

3 - Commentaries and Annotated Translations, #Hymns to the Mystic Fire, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  both cow and ray; the cows of the dawn and the sun, Homer's
  boes Eelioio, are the rays of the Sungod, Lord of Revelation, even

6.04 - THE MEANING OF THE ALCHEMICAL PROCEDURE, #Mysterium Coniunctionis, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  [688] In addition, the plant Mercurialis (dogs mercury) is indicated. Like the Homeric magic herb Moly, it was found by Hermes himself and must therefore have magical effects. It is particularly favourable to the coniunctio because it occurs in male and female form and thus can determine the sex of a child about to be conceived. Mercurius himself was said to be generated from an extract of it that spirit which acts as a mediator (because he is utriusque capax, capable of either) and saviour of the Macrocosm, and is therefore best able to unite the above with the below. In his ithyphallic form as Hermes Kyllenios, he contri butes the attractive power of sexuality, which plays a great role in the coniunctio symbolism.98 Like honey, he is dangerous because of his possibly poisonous effect, for which reason it naturally seemed advisable to our author to add rosemary to the mixture as an alexipharmic (antidote) and a synonym for Mercurius (aqua permanens), perhaps on the principle that like cures like. Dorn could hardly resist the temptation to exploit the alchemical allusion to ros marinus, sea-dew. In agreement with ecclesiastical symbolism there was in alchemy, too, a dew of grace, the aqua vitae, the perpetual, permanent, and two-meaninged
  , divine water or sulphur water. The water was also called aqua pontica (sea-water) or simply sea. This was the great sea over which the alchemist sailed in his mystic peregrination, guided by the heart of Mercurius in the heavenly North Pole, to which nature herself points with the magnetic compass.99 It was also the bath of regeneration, the spring rain which brings forth the vegetation, and the aqua doctrinae.

6.0 - Conscious, Unconscious, and Individuation, #The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
   Homeric Hymns. See: Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica.
  With an English translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White. (Loeb

Aeneid, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  personal version of the traditional comparison between Homer and
  Virgil in the most lucid history of Latin literature we have, his
  All three obstacles were variations on the theme of Homer versus Virgil, using the father to club the son, coupled at times with
  some variations on the theme of Dante versus Virgil, using the son
  is a sustained expression of the appetites and habits. Hence we select where they exhausted." Virgil does not swarm with the "appetites and habits" that pack Homer and Dante and Shakespeare. He
  is not as exhaustive as they are; his is a world, not the world. He is
  with Agamemnon, his commanding officer, is central to Homer's
  Iliad. For his chivalrous treatment of the aged Priam, who had
  Aris'ba a city in the Troad near Abydos; according to Homer
  (Iliad, ii, 836), it sent auxiliary forces to Troy, ix, 354.
  Le'leges an ancient people of Asia Minor, mentioned by Homer.
  Virgil seems to use the name for its archaic qualities, VIII, 945.
  Macha'on a Greek concealed inside the Trojan horse. Homer represents him as a physician. 11, 365.
  Mae'on one of the seven brothers of Cydon, fighting for Turnus.
  Tele'boans a people whom Homer describes as pirates in the Ionian
  islands. Later they, or some of them, occupied Capri, vu, 970.
  Die Aeneis und Homer (Gottingen 1964); Armando Salvatore,
  Introduzione alia lettura di Virgilio (Naples 1965); Michael C. J.
  Bantam); the Odyssey of Homer (now Bantam); the Metamorphoses
  of Ovid, a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in poetry; Ovid in Sicily;

Apology, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Well, Athenians, this and the like of this is all the defence which I have to offer. Yet a word more. Perhaps there may be some one who is offended at me, when he calls to mind how he himself on a similar, or even a less serious occasion, prayed and entreated the judges with many tears, and how he produced his children in court, which was a moving spectacle, together with a host of relations and friends; whereas I, who am probably in danger of my life, will do none of these things. The contrast may occur to his mind, and he may be set against me, and vote in anger because he is displeased at me on this account. Now if there be such a person among you,mind, I do not say that there is,to him I may fairly reply: My friend, I am a man, and like other men, a creature of flesh and blood, and not of wood or stone, as Homer says; and I have a family, yes, and sons, O Athenians, three in number, one almost a man, and two others who are still young; and yet I will not bring any of them hither in order to petition you for an acquittal. And why not? Not from any self-assertion or want of respect for you. Whether I am or am not afraid of death is another question, of which I will not now speak. But, having regard to public opinion, I feel that such conduct would be discreditable to myself, and to you, and to the whole state. One who has reached my years, and who has a name for wisdom, ought not to demean himself. Whether this opinion of me be deserved or not, at any rate the world has decided that Socrates is in some way superior to other men. And if those among you who are said to be superior in wisdom and courage, and any other virtue, demean themselves in this way, how shameful is their conduct! I have seen men of reputation, when they have been condemned, behaving in the strangest manner: they seemed to fancy that they were going to suffer something dreadful if they died, and that they could be immortal if you only allowed them to live; and I think that such are a dishonour to the state, and that any stranger coming in would have said of them that the most eminent men of Athens, to whom the Athenians themselves give honour and command, are no better than women. And I say that these things ought not to be done by those of us who have a reputation; and if they are done, you ought not to permit them; you ought rather to show that you are far more disposed to condemn the man who gets up a doleful scene and makes the city ridiculous, than him who holds his peace.
  But, setting aside the question of public opinion, there seems to be something wrong in asking a favour of a judge, and thus procuring an acquittal, instead of informing and convincing him. For his duty is, not to make a present of justice, but to give judgment; and he has sworn that he will judge according to the laws, and not according to his own good pleasure; and we ought not to encourage you, nor should you allow yourselves to be encouraged, in this habit of perjurythere can be no piety in that. Do not then require me to do what I consider dishonourable and impious and wrong, especially now, when I am being tried for impiety on the indictment of Meletus. For if, O men of Athens, by force of persuasion and entreaty I could overpower your oaths, then I should be teaching you to believe that there are no gods, and in defending should simply convict myself of the charge of not believing in them. But that is not sofar otherwise. For I do believe that there are gods, and in a sense higher than that in which any of my accusers believe in them. And to you and to God I commit my cause, to be determined by you as is best for you and me.
  Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is great reason to hope that death is a good; for one of two thingseither death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or, as men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world to another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select the night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, and were to compare with this the other days and nights of his life, and then were to tell us how many days and nights he had passed in the course of his life better and more pleasantly than this one, I think that any man, I will not say a private man, but even the great king will not find many such days or nights, when compared with the others. Now if death be of such a nature, I say that to die is gain; for eternity is then only a single night. But if death is the journey to another place, and there, as men say, all the dead abide, what good, O my friends and judges, can be greater than this? If indeed when the pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is delivered from the professors of justice in this world, and finds the true judges who are said to give judgment there, Minos and Rhadamanthus and Aeacus and Triptolemus, and other sons of God who were righteous in their own life, that pilgrimage will be worth making. What would not a man give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if this be true, let me die again and again. I myself, too, shall have a wonderful interest in there meeting and conversing with Palamedes, and Ajax the son of Telamon, and any other ancient hero who has suffered death through an unjust judgment; and there will be no small pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs. Above all, I shall then be able to continue my search into true and false knowledge; as in this world, so also in the next; and I shall find out who is wise, and who pretends to be wise, and is not. What would not a man give, O judges, to be able to examine the leader of the great Trojan expedition; or Odysseus or Sisyphus, or numberless others, men and women too! What infinite delight would there be in conversing with them and asking them questions! In another world they do not put a man to death for asking questions: assuredly not. For besides being happier than we are, they will be immortal, if what is said is true.
  Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and know of a certainty, that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death. He and his are not neglected by the gods; nor has my own approaching end happened by mere chance. But I see clearly that the time had arrived when it was better for me to die and be released from trouble; wherefore the oracle gave no sign. For which reason, also, I am not angry with my condemners, or with my accusers; they have done me no harm, although they did not mean to do me any good; and for this I may gently blame them.

Book 1 - The Council of the Gods, #The Odyssey, #Homer, #Mythology
  [1] We are told that Homer was under obligations to Mentes, who had
  frequently given him a passage in his ship to different countries which

BOOK III. - The external calamities of Rome, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  First, then, why was Troy or Ilium, the cradle of the Roman people (for I must not overlook nor disguise what I touched upon in the first book[116]), conquered, taken, and destroyed by the Greeks, though it esteemed and worshipped the same gods as they? Priam, some answer, paid the penalty of the perjury of his father Laomedon.[117] Then it is true that Laomedon hired Apollo and Neptune as his workmen. For the story goes that he promised them wages, and then broke his bargain. I wonder that famous diviner Apollo toiled at so huge a work, and never suspected Laomedon was going to cheat him of his pay. And Neptune too, his uncle, brother of Jupiter, king of the sea, it really was not seemly that he should be ignorant of what was to happen. For he is introduced by Homer[118] (who lived and wrote before the building of Rome) as predicting something great of the posterity of neas, who in fact founded Rome. And as Homer says, Neptune also rescued neas in a cloud from the wrath of Achilles, though (according to Virgil[119])
  "All his will was to destroy His own creation, perjured Troy."
  Gods, then, so great as Apollo and Neptune, in ignorance of the cheat that was to defraud them of their wages, built the walls of Troy for nothing but thanks and thankless people.[120] There may be some doubt whether it is not a worse crime to believe such persons to be gods, than to cheat such gods. Even Homer himself did not give full credence to the story; for while he represents Neptune, indeed, as hostile to the Trojans, he introduces Apollo as their champion, though the story implies that both were offended by that fraud. If, therefore,[Pg 93] they believe their fables, let them blush to worship such gods; if they discredit the fables, let no more be said of the "Trojan perjury;" or let them explain how the gods hated Trojan, but loved Roman perjury. For how did the conspiracy of Catiline, even in so large and corrupt a city, find so abundant a supply of men whose hands and tongues found them a living by perjury and civic broils? What else but perjury corrupted the judgments pronounced by so many of the senators? What else corrupted the people's votes and decisions of all causes tried before them? For it seems that the ancient practice of taking oaths has been preserved even in the midst of the greatest corruption, not for the sake of restraining wickedness by religious fear, but to complete the tale of crimes by adding that of perjury.
  3. That the gods could not be offended by the adultery of Paris, this crime being so common among themselves.

BOOK II. -- PART I. ANTHROPOGENESIS., #The Secret Doctrine, #H P Blavatsky, #Theosophy
  deceiving those more ignorant than themselves. Yet, from Homer downwards, the term implied
  something hidden from the profane.
  pertinently explains with regard to the above Homeric verse -- "For the Dragon, while sacred and to be
  worshipped, has within himself something still more of the divine nature of which it is better (for
  the Bible lies through Hermes, Bel, and Homer, as the way to these is through the Hindu and Chaldean
  religious symbols.
  in one or another character. The Homeric songs contain, poetized, all the later fables about the
  Patriarchs, who are all sidereal, cosmic, and numerical symbols and signs. The attempt to disconnect
  Poseidon is, in Homer, the God of the Horse, and assumes that form himself to please Ceres. Arion,
  their progeny, is one of the aspects of that "horse," which is a cycle.
  Finding certain difficulties in believing that the Egyptian priests, Plato, and even Homer, had all built
  their notions of Atlantis on Atala -- a nether region located at the Southern pole -- we prefer holding to
  many a truth, from the existence of Homer down to that of the carrier pigeon. The civilization of the
  Atlanteans was greater even than that of the Egyptians. It is their degenerate descendants, the nation of
  Writing was an ars incognita in the days of Hesiod and Homer, agreeably to Grote, and unknown to
  the Greeks so late as 770 B.C.; and the Phoenicians who had invented it, and knew writing as far back

  about as much value as are the pedigrees of the Homeric heroes in the eyes of the historical critic."
  This settled, everyone will see that one hypothesis is as good as another. And as we find that German
  living men, whether twenty or only twelve feet high. Even the Homeric heroes, who, of course,
  belonged to a far more recent period in the history of the races, appear to have wielded weapons of a
  narrative bears the impress of truth upon it.* It was not he who invented it, at any rate, since Homer,
  who preceded him by many centuries, also speaks of the Atlantes (who are our Atlanteans) and of their
  translation of the Homeric word [[echei]] by sustinet, as it is not possible to see "how Atlas can
  support or bear at once several pillars situated in various localities." If Atlas were an individual it
  citations of Herakleitos (460 B.C.), declaring that Homer deserved "to be ejected from public
  assemblies and flogged;" and of Xenophanes "holding Homer and Hesiod responsible for the popular
  superstitions of Greece. . . . " and for ascribing "to the gods whatever is disgraceful and scandalous
  the general public about Greek Mythology have been still further perverted and biassed. Homer is
  credited with an inner thought, which is regarded by Mr. Gladstone as "the true key to the Homeric
  conception," whereas this "key" was merely a blind. Poseidon "is indeed essentially of the earth earthy
  many observations upon the "artfulness" of Homer, who never names Nereus, at whose designation we
  arrive . . . . only through the patronymic of the Nereids!
  classical author speaks of it, and that Homer shows Laomedon building a city, not an esoteric worship
  or MYSTERIES! And who are those left now, save a few Initiates, who understand the language and

BOOK II. -- PART II. THE ARCHAIC SYMBOLISM OF THE WORLD-RELIGIONS, #The Secret Doctrine, #H P Blavatsky, #Theosophy
  the Veda with the full grown and decayed myths on which the poetry of Homer is founded. The Veda
  is the real Theogony of the Aryan races, while that of Hesiod is a distorted caricature of the original
  Hesiod and Homer; and all the interminable sevens which the Orientalists find in every MS. they

BOOK I. -- PART I. COSMIC EVOLUTION, #The Secret Doctrine, #H P Blavatsky, #Theosophy
  period long anterior to the age of the Veda and of Homer" (Compar. Theol., p. 318), he has not the
  slightest "historical basis" for it. He makes history and fact subservient to his

BOOK I. -- PART III. SCIENCE AND THE SECRET DOCTRINE CONTRASTED, #The Secret Doctrine, #H P Blavatsky, #Theosophy
  among the nomadic Arabic tribes. The Book of Job, they say, precedes Homer and Hesiod by at least
  one thousand years -- the two Greek poets having themselves flourished some eight centuries before
  the Christian era (!!). One who prefers, by the bye, to believe Plato, who shows Homer flourishing far
  earlier, could point to a number of Zodiacal signs mentioned in the Iliad and the Odyssey, in the
  effect that neither Orpheus, nor yet Homer and Hesiod, ever existed, it would seem time lost to
  mention these Archaic authors at all. The Arabian Job will suffice; unless, indeed, his volume of
  And now this natural question rises. If the Greeks knew, in the days of Homer, of a Hyperborean land,
  i.e., a blessed land beyond the reach of Boreas, the god of winter and of the hurricane, an ideal region

  over in reverential silence. Homer in his poems ascends no higher than Night, whom he represents
  Zeus as reverencing. According to all the ancient theologists, and to the doctrines of Pythagoras and
  physical, human aspect is the MIND in him which produced his great works of art. Homer, therefore,
  is not only silent with respect to the first principle, but likewise with respect to those two principles

BOOK IV. - That empire was given to Rome not by the gods, but by the One True God, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  Cicero the augur laughs at auguries, and reproves men for regulating the purposes of life by the cries of crows and jackdaws.[177] But it will be said that an academic philosopher, who argues that all things are uncertain, is unworthy to have any authority in these matters. In the second book of his De Natura Deorum,[178] he introduces Lucilius Balbus, who, after showing that superstitions have their origin in physical and philosophical truths, expresses his indignation at the setting up[Pg 171] of images and fabulous notions, speaking thus: "Do you not therefore see that from true and useful physical discoveries the reason may be drawn away to fabulous and imaginary gods? This gives birth to false opinions and turbulent errors, and superstitions well-nigh old-wifeish. For both the forms of the gods, and their ages, and clothing, and ornaments, are made familiar to us; their genealogies, too, their marriages, kinships, and all things about them, are debased to the likeness of human weakness. They are even introduced as having perturbed minds; for we have accounts of the lusts, cares, and angers of the gods. Nor, indeed, as the fables go, have the gods been without their wars and battles. And that not only when, as in Homer, some gods on either side have defended two opposing armies, but they have even carried on wars on their own account, as with the Titans or with the Giants. Such things it is quite absurd either to say or to believe: they are utterly frivolous and groundless." Behold, now, what is confessed by those who defend the gods of the nations. Afterwards he goes on to say that some things belong to superstition, but others to religion, which he thinks good to teach according to the Stoics. "For not only the philosophers," he says, "but also our forefa thers, have made a distinction between superstition and religion. For those," he says, "who spent whole days in prayer, and offered sacrifice, that their children might outlive them, are called superstitious."[179] Who does not see that he is trying, while he fears the public prejudice, to praise the religion of the ancients, and that he wishes to disjoin it from superstition, but cannot find out how to do so? For if those who prayed and sacrificed all day were called superstitious by the ancients, were those also called so who instituted (what he blames) the images of the gods of diverse age and distinct clothing, and invented the genealogies of gods, their marriages, and kinships? When, therefore, these things are found fault with as superstitious, he implicates in that fault the ancients who instituted and worshipped such images. Nay, he implicates himself, who, with whatever eloquence he may strive to extricate himself[Pg 172] and be free, was yet under the necessity of venerating these images; nor dared he so much as whisper in a discourse to the people what in this disputation he plainly sounds forth. Let us Christians, therefore, give thanks to the Lord our God,not to heaven and earth, as that author argues, but to Him who has made heaven and earth; because these superstitions, which that Balbus, like a babbler,[180] scarcely reprehends, He, by the most deep lowliness of Christ, by the preaching of the apostles, by the faith of the martyrs dying for the truth and living with the truth, has overthrown, not only in the hearts of the religious, but even in the temples of the superstitious, by their own free service.
    31. Concerning the opinions of Varro, who, while reprobating the popular belief, thought that their worship should be confined to one god, though he was unable to discover the true God.

BOOK IX. - Of those who allege a distinction among demons, some being good and others evil, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  Some have advanced the opinion that there are both good and bad gods; but some, thinking more respectfully of the gods have attributed to them so much honour and praise as to preclude the supposition of any god being wicked. But those who have maintained that there are wicked gods as well as good ones have included the demons under the name "gods," and sometimes, though more rarely, have called the gods demons; so that they admit that Jupiter, whom they make the king and head of all the rest, is called a demon by Homer.[329] Those, on the other hand, who maintain that the gods are all good, and far more excellent than the men who are justly called good, are moved by the actions of the demons, which they can neither deny nor impute to the gods whose goodness they affirm, to distinguish between gods and demons; so that, whenever they find anything offensive in the deeds or sentiments by which unseen spirits manifest their power, they believe this to proceed not from the gods, but from the demons. At the same time they believe that, as no god can hold direct intercourse with men, these demons hold the position of mediators, ascending with prayers, and returning with gifts. This is the opinion of the Platonists, the ablest and most esteemed of their philosophers, with whom we therefore chose to debate this question,whether the worship of a number of gods is of[Pg 354] any service towards obtaining blessedness in the future life. And this is the reason why, in the preceding book, we have inquired how the demons, who take pleasure in such things as good and wise men loa the and execrate, in the sacrilegious and immoral fictions which the poets have written, not of men, but of the gods themselves, and in the wicked and criminal violence of magical arts, can be regarded as more nearly related and more friendly to the gods than men are, and can mediate between good men and the good gods; and it has been demonstrated that this is absolutely impossible.
  2. Whether among the demons, inferior to the gods, there are any good spirits under whose guardianship the human soul might reach true blessedness.
  But if any one says that it is not of all the demons, but only of the wicked, that the poets, not without truth, say that they violently love or hate certain men,for it was of them Apuleius said that they were driven about by strong currents of emotion,how can we accept this interpretation, when Apuleius, in the very same connection, represents all the demons, and not only the wicked, as intermediate between gods and men by their aerial bodies? The fiction of the poets, according to him, consists in their making gods of demons, and giving them the names of gods, and assigning them as allies or enemies to individual men, using this poetical licence, though they profess that the gods are very different in character from the demons, and far exalted above them by their celestial abode and wealth of beatitude. This, I say, is the poets' fiction, to say that these are gods who are not gods, and that, under the names of gods, they fight among themselves about the men whom they love or hate with keen partisan feeling. Apuleius says that this is not far from the truth, since, though they are wrongfully called by the names of the gods, they are described in their own proper character as demons. To this category, he says, belongs the Minerva of Homer, "who interposed in the ranks of the Greeks to restrain Achilles."[340] For that this was Minerva he supposes to be poetical fiction; for he thinks that Minerva is a goddess, and he places her among the gods whom he believes to be all good and blessed in the sublime ethereal region, remote from intercourse with men. But that there was a demon favourable to the Greeks and adverse to the Trojans, as another, whom the same poet mentions under the name of Venus or Mars (gods exalted above earthly affairs in their heavenly habitations), was the Trojans' ally and the foe of the Greeks, and that these demons fought for those they loved against those they hated,in all this he owned that the poets stated something[Pg 362] very like the truth. For they made these statements about beings to whom he ascribes the same violent and tempestuous passions as disturb men, and who are therefore capable of loves and hatreds not justly formed, but formed in a party spirit, as the spectators in races or hunts take fancies and prejudices. It seems to have been the great fear of this Platonist that the poetical fictions should be believed of the gods, and not of the demons who bore their names.
  8. How Apuleius defines the gods who dwell in heaven, the demons who occupy the air, and men who inhabit earth.

Book of Imaginary Beings (text), #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  unknown to the Greeks of Homeric times, it has been conjectured that the first Scythian horseman they came across
  seemed to them all one with his horse, and it has also been
  the Iliad. There Homer writes that it came of divine stock
  and was a lion in its foreparts, a goat in the middle, and a
  image conveyed by Homers words, but Hesiods Theogony
  describes the Chimera as having three heads, and this is the
  and that all her furniture was like Tantalus gold described by Homer, no substance, but mere illusions. When
  she saw herself descried, she wept, and desired Apollonius
  This legend is also found in the pages of Homer and Pausanias.
  The Sea Horse
  changed. Their first historian, Homer, in the twelfth book of
  the Odyssey, does not tell us what they were like; to Ovid,

BOOK V. - Of fate, freewill, and God's prescience, and of the source of the virtues of the ancient Romans, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  The following Homeric lines, which Cicero translates into Latin, also favour this opinion:
  "Such are the minds of men, as is the light Which Father Jove himself doth pour Illustrious o'er the fruitful earth."[188]
  Not that Cicero wishes that a poetical sentiment should have any weight in a question like this; for when he says that the Stoics, when asserting the power of fate, were in the habit of using these verses from Homer, he is not treating concerning the opinion of that poet, but concerning that of those philosophers, since by these verses, which they quote in connection with the controversy which they hold about fate, is most distinctly manifested what it is which they reckon fate, since they call by the name of Jupiter him whom they reckon the supreme god, from whom, they say, hangs the whole chain of fates.
  [Pg 190]

BOOK XV. - The progress of the earthly and heavenly cities traced by the sacred history, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  thus declaring his opinion that the earth then produced mightier men. And if in the more recent times, how much more in the ages before the world-renowned deluge? But the large size of the primitive human body is often proved to the incredulous by the exposure of sepulchres, either through the wear of time or the violence of torrents or some accident, and in which bones of incredible size have been found or have rolled out. I myself, along with some others, saw on the shore at Utica a man's molar tooth of such a size, that if it were cut down into teeth such as we have, a hundred, I fancy, could have been made out of it. But that, I believe, belonged to some giant. For though the bodies of ordinary men were then larger than ours, the giants surpassed all in stature. And neither in our own age nor any other have there been altogether wanting instances of gigantic stature, though they may be few. The younger Pliny, a most learned man, maintains that the older the world becomes, the smaller will be the bodies of men.[163] And he mentions that Homer in his poems often lamented the same decline; and this he does not laugh at as a poetical figment, but in his character of a recorder of natural wonders accepts it as historically true. But, as I said, the bones which are from time to time discovered[Pg 65] prove the size of the bodies of the ancients,[164] and will do so to future ages, for they are slow to decay. But the length of an antediluvian's life cannot now be proved by any such monumental evidence. But we are not on this account to withhold our faith from the sacred history, whose statements of past fact we are the more inexcusable in discrediting, as we see the accuracy of its prediction of what was future. And even that same Pliny[165] tells us that there is still a nation in which men live 200 years. If, then, in places unknown to us, men are believed to have a length of days which is quite beyond our own experience, why should we not believe the same of times distant from our own? Or are we to believe that in other places there is what is not here, while we do not believe that in other times there has been anything but what is now?
  10. Of the different computation of the ages of the antediluvians, given by the Hebrew manuscripts and by our own.[166]

BOOK XXII. - Of the eternal happiness of the saints, the resurrection of the body, and the miracles of the early Church, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  Let us here recite the passage in which Tully expresses his astonishment that the apotheosis of Romulus should have been credited. I shall insert his words as they stand: "It is most worthy of remark in Romulus, that other men who are said to have become gods lived in less educated ages, when there was a greater propensity to the fabulous, and when the uninstructed were easily persuaded to believe anything. But the age of Romulus was barely six hundred years ago, and already literature and science had dispelled the errors that attach to an uncultured age." And a little after he says of the same Romulus words to this effect: "From this we may perceive that Homer had flourished long before Romulus, and that there was now so much learning in individuals, and so generally diffused an enlightenment, that scarcely any room was left for fable. For antiquity admitted fables, and sometimes even very clumsy ones; but this age [of Romulus] was sufficiently enlightened to reject whatever had not the air of truth." Thus one of the most learned men, and certainly the most eloquent, M. Tullius Cicero, says that it is surprising that the divinity of Romulus was believed in, because the times were already so enlightened that they would not accept a fabulous fiction. But who believed that Romulus was a god except Rome, which was itself small and in its infancy? Then afterwards it was necessary that succeeding generations should preserve the tradition of their ancestors; that, drinking in this superstition with their mother's milk, the state might grow and come to such power that it might dictate this belief, as from a point of vantage, to all the nations over whom its sway extended. And these nations, though they might not believe that Romulus was a god, at least said so, that they might not give offence to their sovereign state by refusing to give its founder that title which was given him by Rome, which had adopted this belief, not by a love of error, but an error of love. But though Christ is the founder of the heavenly and eternal city, yet it did not believe Him to be God because it was founded by Him, but rather it[Pg 481] is founded by Him, in virtue of its belief. Rome, after it had been built and dedicated, worshipped its founder in a temple as a god; but this Jerusalem laid Christ, its God, as its foundation, that the building and dedication might proceed. The former city loved its founder, and therefore believed him to be a god; the latter believed Christ to be God, and therefore loved Him. There was an antecedent cause for the love of the former city, and for its believing that even a false dignity attached to the object of its love; so there was an antecedent cause for the belief of the latter, and for its loving the true dignity which a proper faith, not a rash surmise, ascribed to its object. For, not to mention the multitude of very striking miracles which proved that Christ is God, there were also divine prophecies heralding Him, prophecies most worthy of belief, which being already accomplished, we have not, like the fathers, to wait for their verification. Of Romulus, on the other hand, and of his building Rome and reigning in it, we read or hear the narrative of what did take place, not prediction which beforeh and said that such things should be. And so far as his reception among the gods is concerned, history only records that this was believed, and does not state it as a fact; for no miraculous signs testified to the truth of this. For as to that wolf which is said to have nursed the twin-brothers, and which is considered a great marvel, how does this prove him to have been divine? For even supposing that this nurse was a real wolf and not a mere courtezan, yet she nursed both brothers, and Remus is not reckoned a god. Besides, what was there to hinder any one from asserting that Romulus or Hercules, or any such man, was a god? Or who would rather choose to die than profess belief in his divinity? And did a single nation worship Romulus among its gods, unless it were forced through fear of the Roman name? But who can number the multitudes who have chosen death in the most cruel shapes rather than deny the divinity of Christ? And thus the dread of some slight indignation, which it was supposed, perhaps groundlessly, might exist in the minds of the Romans, constrained some states who were subject to Rome to worship Romulus as a god; whereas the dread, not of a slight mental shock, but of severe and various punishments,[Pg 482] and of death itself, the most formidable of all, could not prevent an immense multitude of martyrs throughout the world from not merely worshipping but also confessing Christ as God. The city of Christ, which, although as yet a stranger upon earth, had countless hosts of citizens, did not make war upon its godless persecutors for the sake of temporal security, but preferred to win eternal salvation by abstaining from war. They were bound, imprisoned, beaten, tortured, burned, torn in pieces, massacred, and yet they multiplied. It was not given to them to fight for their eternal salvation except by despising their temporal salvation for their Saviour's sake.
  I am aware that Cicero, in the third book of his De Republica, if I mistake not, argues that a first-rate power will not engage in war except either for honour or for safety. What he has to say about the question of safety, and what he means by safety, he explains in another place, saying, "Private persons frequently evade, by a speedy death, destitution, exile, bonds, the scourge, and the other pains which even the most insensible feel. But to states, death, which seems to emancipate individuals from all punishments, is itself a punishment; for a state should be so constituted as to be eternal. And thus death is not natural to a republic as to a man, to whom death is not only necessary, but often even desirable. But when a state is destroyed, obliterated, annihilated, it is as if (to compare great things with small) this whole world perished and collapsed." Cicero said this because he, with the Platonists, believed that the world would not perish. It is therefore agreed that, according to Cicero, a state should engage in war for the safety which preserves the state permanently in existence, though its citizens change; as the foliage of an olive or laurel, or any tree of this kind, is perennial, the old leaves being replaced by fresh ones. For death, as he says, is no punishment to individuals, but rather delivers them from all other punishments, but it is a punishment to the state. And therefore it is reasonably asked whether the Saguntines did right when they chose that their whole state should perish rather than that they should break faith with the Roman republic; for this deed of theirs is applauded by the citizens of the earthly republic. But I do not see how they could[Pg 483] follow the advice of Cicero, who tells us that no war is to be undertaken save for safety or for honour; neither does he say which of these two is to be preferred, if a case should occur in which the one could not be preserved without the loss of the other. For manifestly, if the Saguntines chose safety, they must break faith; if they kept faith, they must reject safety; as also it fell out. But the safety of the city of God is such that it can be retained, or rather acquired, by faith and with faith; but if faith be abandoned, no one can attain it. It is this thought of a most stedfast and patient spirit that has made so many noble martyrs, while Romulus has not had, and could not have, so much as one to die for his divinity.

BOOK XXI. - Of the eternal punishment of the wicked in hell, and of the various objections urged against it, #City of God, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
  From the book of Marcus Varro, entitled, Of the Race Of the Roman People, I cite word for word the following instance: "There occurred a remarkable celestial portent; for Castor records that, in the brilliant star Venus, called Vesperugo by Plautus, and the lovely Hesperus by Homer, there occurred so strange a prodigy, that it changed its colour, size, form, course, which never happened before nor since. Adrastus of Cyzicus, and Dion of Naples, famous mathematicians, said that this occurred in the reign of Ogyges." So great an author as Varro would certainly not have called this a portent had it not seemed to be contrary to nature. For we say that all portents are contrary to nature; but they are not so. For how is that contrary to nature which happens by the will of God, since the will of so mighty a Creator is certainly the nature of each created thing? A portent, therefore, happens not contrary to nature, but contrary to what we know as nature. But who can number the multitude of portents recorded in profane histories? Let us then at present fix our attention on this one only which concerns the matter in hand. What is there so arranged by the Author of the nature of heaven and earth as the exactly ordered course of the stars? What is there established by laws so sure and inflexible? And yet, when it pleased Him who with sovereignty and supreme power regulates all He has created, a star conspicuous among the rest by its size and splendour changed its colour, size, form, and, most wonderful of all, the order and law of its course! Certainly that phenomenon disturbed the canons of the astronomers, if there were any then, by which they tabulate, as by unerring computation, the past and future movements of the stars, so as to take upon them to affirm that this which happened to the morning star (Venus) never happened before nor since. But we read in the divine books that even the sun itself stood still when a holy man, Joshua the son of Nun, had begged this from God[Pg 430] until victory should finish the battle he had begun; and that it even went back, that the promise of fifteen years added to the life of king Hezekiah might be sealed by this additional prodigy. But these miracles, which were vouchsafed to the merits of holy men, even when our adversaries believe them, they attribute to magical arts; so Virgil, in the lines I quoted above, ascribes to magic the power to
  "Turn rivers backward to their source, And make the stars forget their course."

BS 1 - Introduction to the Idea of God, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Theres this Simpsons episode, and Homer downs a quart of mayonnaise and vodka. Marge says, 'you know, you shouldn't really do that. And Homer says, thats a problem for future- Homer. Im sure glad Im not that guy. Its so ridiculous and comical. But, ok, you see we have to grapple with that. The you thats out there in the future is sort of like another person, and so figuring out how to conduct yourself properly in relationship to your future self isnt much different than figuring out how to conduct yourself in relationship to other people. Then we can expand the constraints. Not only does the interpretation that you extract have to protect you from suffering and give you an aim, but it has to do it in a way thats iterable, so it works across time, and then it has to work in the presence of other people, so that you can cooperate with them and compete with them in a way that doesn't make you suffer more.
  People are not that tolerant. They have choices. They dont have to hang around with you; they can hang around with any one of these other primates. So if you dont act properly, at least within certain boundaries, youre just cast aside. People are broadcasting information at you, all the time, about how you need to interpret the world, so they can tolerate being around you. And you need that because, socially isolated, youre insane, and then you're dead. No one can tolerate being alone for any length of time. We cant retain our own sanity without continual feedback from other people. Its too damned complicated. Youre constrained by your own existence, and then you're constrained by the existence of other people, and then you're also constrained by the world. If I read Hamlet and what I extracted out of that is the idea that I should jump off a bridge, it puts my interpretation to an end rather quickly. It doesnt seem to be optimally functional.

COSA - BOOK I, #The Confessions of Saint Augustine, #Saint Augustine of Hippo, #Christianity
   Homer also curiously wove the like fictions, and is most sweetly vain, yet was he bitter to my boyish taste. And so I suppose would Virgil be to Grecian children, when forced to learn him as I was Homer.
  Difficulty, in truth, the difficulty of a foreign tongue, dashed, as it were, with gall all the sweetness of Grecian fable. For not one word of it did I understand, and to make me understand I was urged vehemently with cruel threats and punishments. Time was also (as an infant) I knew no Latin; but this I learned without fear or suffering, by mere observation, amid the caresses of my nursery and jests of friends, smiling and sportively encouraging me. This I learned without any pressure of punishment to urge me on, for my heart urged me to give birth to its conceptions, which I could only do by learning words not of those who taught, but of those who talked with me; in whose ears also I gave birth to the thoughts, whatever I conceived. No doubt, then, that a free curiosity has more force in our learning these things, than a frightful enforcement. Only this enforcement restrains the rovings of that freedom, through Thy laws, O my God, Thy laws, from the master's cane to the martyr's trials, being able to temper for us a wholesome bitter, recalling us to Thyself from that deadly pleasure which lures us from Thee.
  But woe is thee, thou torrent of human custom! Who shall stand against thee? how long shalt thou not be dried up? how long roll the sons of Eve into that huge and hideous ocean, which even they scarcely overpass who climb the cross? Did not I read in thee of Jove the thunderer and the adulterer? both, doubtless, he could not be; but so the feigned thunder might countenance and pander to real adultery. And now which of our gowned masters lends a sober ear to one who from their own school cries out, "These were Homer's fictions, transferring things human to the gods; would he had brought down things divine to us!" Yet more truly had he said, "These are indeed his fictions; but attri buting a divine nature to wicked men, that crimes might be no longer crimes, and whoso commits them might seem to imitate not abandoned men, but the celestial gods."
  And yet, thou hellish torrent, into thee are cast the sons of men with rich rewards, for compassing such learning; and a great solemnity is made of it, when this is going on in the forum, within sight of laws appointing a salary beside the scholar's payments; and thou lashest thy rocks and roarest, "Hence words are learnt; hence eloquence; most necessary to gain your ends, or maintain opinions." As if we should have never known such words as "golden shower," "lap," "beguile," "temples of the heavens," or others in that passage, unless Terence had brought a lewd youth upon the stage, setting up Jupiter as his example of seduction.

Cratylus, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Soc. Then if you despise him, you must learn of Homer and the poets.
  Her. And where does Homer say anything about names, and what does he
  Soc. Let me ask you, then, which did Homer think the more correct of
  the names given to Hector's son- Astyanax or Scamandrius?
  Soc. And Homer, as you know, says that the Trojan men called him
  Astyanax (king of the city); but if the men called him Astyanax, the
  Soc. And must not Homer have imagined the Trojans to be wiser than
  their wives?
  king of the city which his father was saving, as Homer observes.
  Her. I see.
  Soc. But tell me, friend, did not Homer himself also give Hector his
  opinion of Homer about the correctness of names.
  Her. I assure you that I think otherwise, and I believe you to be on
  antiquity as old as the days of Cronos and Rhea, and of which Homer
  also spoke.
  interpreters of Homer may, I think, assist in explaining the view of
  the ancients. For most of these in their explanations of the poet,
  "mother" (gaia, genneteira), as in the language of Homer (Od. ix. 118;
  xiii. 160) gegaasi means gegennesthai.
  and increases; this latter is a common Homeric word, and has a foreign
  aforesaid Homer. And now let me see; where are we? Have we not been
  saying that the correct name indicates the nature of the thing:- has

ENNEAD 01.06 - Of Beauty., #Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 01, #Plotinus, #Christianity
  This indeed is the occasion to quote (from Homer) with peculiar force, "Let us fly unto our dear fatherland!" But how shall we fly? How escape from here? is the question Ulysses asks himself in that53 allegory which represents him trying to escape from the magic sway of Circe or Calypso, where neither the pleasure of the eyes, nor the view of fleshly beauty were able to hold him in those enchanted places. Our fatherl and is the region whence we descend here below. It is there that dwells our Father. But how shall we return thither? What means shall be employed to return us thither? Not our feet, indeed; all they could do would be to move us from one place of the earth to another. Neither is it a chariot, nor ship which need be prepared. All these vain helps must be left aside, and not even considered. We must close the eyes of the body, to open another vision, which indeed all possess, but very few employ.

ENNEAD 02.09 - Against the Gnostics; or, That the Creator and the World are Not Evil., #Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 02, #Plotinus, #Christianity
  122 As did Discord, in Homer's Iliad, iv. 443.
  123 See ii. 9.7.

ENNEAD 05.01 - The Three Principal Hypostases, or Forms of Existence., #Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 01, #Plotinus, #Christianity
  2. This is the first reflection of every soul.219 By an influx of the spirit of life, the universal Soul produced all the animals upon earth, in the air and in the sea, as well as the divine stars, the sun, and the immense heaven. It was the universal Soul that gave form to the heavens, and which presides over their regular revolutions; and she effects all that without mingling with the being to whom she communicates form, movement and life. The universal Soul is far superior to all created things. While the latter are born or die in the measure that she imparts to them, or withdraws from them their life, she herself is "being" and eternal life, because she could not cease being herself. To understand how life can simultaneously be imparted to the universe and to each individual, we must contemplate the universal Soul. To rise to this contemplation, the soul must be worthy of it by nobility, must have liberated herself from error, and must have withdrawn from the objects that fascinate the glances of worldly souls, must have immersed herself in a profound meditation, and she must have succeeded in effecting the silence not only of the agitations of the body that enfolds her, and the tumult of sensations, but also of all that surrounds her. Therefore let silence be kept by allnamely, earth, air, sea, and even heaven. Then let the soul represent to herself the great Soul which, from all sides, overflows into this immovable mass, spreading within it, penetrating into it intimately, illuminating it as the rays of the sun light and gild a dark cloud. Thus the universal Soul, by descending into this world redeemed this great body from the inertia in which it lay, imparting to it movement, life and immortality. Eternally moved by an intelligent power, heaven became176 a being full of life and felicity. The presence of the Soul made an admirable whole from what before was no more than in inert corpse, water and earth, or rather, darkness of matter, which, as Homer220 says, was an "object of horror for the divinities."

ENNEAD 06.05 - The One and Identical Being is Everywhere Present In Its Entirety.345, #Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 04, #Plotinus, #Christianity
  The first treatment of matter occurs in the first Ennead, and it may be described as thoroughly Numenian, being treated in conjunction with the subject1273 of evil. First, we have the expression of the Supreme hovering over Being.372 Then we have the soul double,373 reminding us of Numenius's view of the double Second Divinity374 and the double soul.375 Then we have positive evil occurring in the absence of good.376 Plotinos377 opposes the Stoic denial of evil, for he says, "if this were all," there were no evil. We find a threefold division of the universe without the Stoic term hypostasis, which occurs in the treatment of the same topic elsewhere.378 Similar to Numenius is the King of all,379 the blissful life of the divinities around him,380 and the division of the universe into three.381 Plotinos382 acknowledges evil things in the world, something denied by the Stoics,383 but taught by Numenius, as is also original, primary existence of evil, in itself. Evil is here said to be a hypostasis in itself, and imparts evil qualities to other things. It is an image of being, and a genuine nature of evil. Plotinos describes384 matter as flowing eternally, which reminds us unmistakably of Numenius's image385 of matter as a swiftly flowing stream, unlimited and infinite in depth, breadth, and length. Evil inheres in the material part of the body,386 and is seen as actual, positive, darkness, which is Numenian, as far as it means a definite principle.387 Plotinos also388 insists on the ineradicability of evil, in almost the same terms as Numenius,389 who calls on Heraclitus and Homer as supporters. Plotinos390 as reason for this assigns the fact that the world is a mixture, which is the very proof advanced by Numenius in 12. Plotinos, moreover,391 defines matter as that which remains after all qualities are abstracted; this is thoroughly Numenian.392
  In the fourth book of the Second Ennead the treatment of matter is original, and is based on comparative studies. Evil has disappeared from the horizon; and the long treatment of the controversy with the Gnostics393 is devoted to explaining away evil as misunderstood1274 good. Although he begins by finding fault with Stoic materialism,394 he asserts two matters, the intelligible and the physical. Intelligible matter395 is eternal, and possesses essence. Plotinos goes on396 to argue for the necessity of an intelligible, as well as a physical substrate (hypokeimenon). In the next paragraph397 Plotinos seems to undertake a historical polemic, against three traditional teachers (Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus) under whose names he was surely finding fault with their disciples: the Stoics, Numenius, and possibly such thinkers as Lucretius. Empedocles is held responsible for the view that elements are material, evidently a Stoical view. Anaxagoras is held responsible for three views, which are distinctly Numenian: that the world is a mixture,398 that it is all in all,399 and that it is infinite.400 We might, in passing, notice another Plotinian contradiction in here condemning the world as mixture, approved in the former passage.401 As to the atomism of Democritus, it is not clear with which contemporaries he was finding fault. Intelligible matter reappears402 where we also find again the idea of doubleness of everything. As to the terms used by the way, we find the Stoic categories of Otherness or Variety403 and Motion; the conceptual seminal logoi, and the "Koin ousia" of matter; but in his psychology he uses "logos" and "nosis," instead of "nous" and "phronesis," which are found in the Escorial section, and which are more Stoical. We also find the Aristotelian category of energy, or potentiality.
  Of all fetishes which have misled humanity, perhaps none is responsible for more error than that of originality. As if anything could be new that was true, or true that was new! The only possible lines along which novelty or progress can lie are our reports, combinations, and expressions. Some people think they have done for a poet if they have shown that he made use of suitable materials in the construction of his poem! So Shakespeare has been shown to have used whole scenes from earlier writers. So Virgil, by Macrobius, has been shown to have laid under contri bution every writer then known to be worth ransacking. Dante has also been shown to have re-edited contemporary apocalypses. So Homer, even, has been shown to re-tell stories gathered from many sources. The result is that people generally consider Shakespeare, Virgil, or Homer great in spite of their borrowings, when, on the contrary, the statement should be that they were great because of their rootage in the best of their period. In other words, they are great not because of their own personality (which in many cases has dropped out of the ken of history), but because they more faithfully, completely, and harmoniously represent their periods than other now forgotten writers. Therein alone lay their cosmic value, and their assurance of immortality. They are the voices of their ages, and we are interested in the significance of their age, not in them personally.
  It is from this standpoint that we must approach1289 Plato. Of his personality what details are known are of no soteriologic significance; and the reason why the world has not been able to get away from him, and probably never will, is that he sums up prior Greek philosophy in as coherent a form as is possible without doing too great Procrustean violence to the elements in question. This means that Plato did not fuse them all into one absolutely, rigid, coherent, consistent system, in which case his utility would have been very much curtailed. The very form of his writings, the dialogue, left each element in the natural living condition to survive on its merits, not as an authoritative oracle, or Platonic pronunciamento, or creed.

ENNEAD 06.05 - The One Identical Essence is Everywhere Entirely Present., #Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 02, #Plotinus, #Christianity
  When, therefore, you will have embraced the universal Essence and will be resting within it, you must not seek anything beyond it. Otherwise, you will be withdrawing from it; and, directing your glance on something foreign, you will fail to see what is near you. If, on the contrary, you seek nothing beyond it, you will be similar to a universal Essence. How? You will be entirely united to it, you will not be held back by any of its parts, and you will not even be saying, "This is what I am!" By forgetting the particular being that you are, you will be becoming the universal Being. You had, indeed, already been the universal Essence, but you were something besides; you were inferior by that very circumstance; because that which you possessed beyond the universal Essence did not proceed from the universal Essence, for nothing can be added thereto; but rather had come from that which is not universal. When you become a determined being, because you borrow something from non-essence, you cease being universal. But if you abandon non-essence, you will be increasing yourself. It is by setting aside all the rest that the universal Essence may be discovered; for essence does not reveal itself so long as one remains with the rest. It does not approach you to make you enjoy its presence; it is you who are straying from it, when it ceases to be present. Besides, when you stray away, you are not actually straying away from it, as it continues to be332 present; you are not distant from it, but, though being near Essence, you have turned away from it. Thus even the other divinities, though they be present to many human beings, often reveal themselves only to some one person, because he alone is able (or, knows how) to contemplate them. These divinities (according to Homer),7 assume many different forms, and haunt the cities. But it is to the supreme Divinity that all the cities, all the earth, and all the heavens turn; for the universe subsists by Him, and in Him. From Him also do all real essences derive their existence; it is from Him that all depend, even the (universal) Soul, and the universal Life; it is to His infinite unity that they all turn as to their goal; a unity which is infinite precisely because it has no extension.

Euthyphro, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Thus begins the contrast between the religion of the letter, or of the narrow and unenlightened conscience, and the higher notion of religion which Socrates vainly endeavours to elicit from him. 'Piety is doing as I do' is the idea of religion which first occurs to him, and to many others who do not say what they think with equal frankness. For men are not easily persuaded that any other religion is better than their own; or that other nations, e.g. the Greeks in the time of Socrates, were equally serious in their religious beliefs and difficulties. The chief difference between us and them is, that they were slowly learning what we are in process of forgetting. Greek mythology hardly admitted of the distinction between accidental homicide and murder: that the pollution of blood was the same in both cases is also the feeling of the Athenian diviner. He had not as yet learned the lesson, which philosophy was teaching, that Homer and Hesiod, if not banished from the state, or whipped out of the assembly, as Heracleitus more rudely proposed, at any rate were not to be appealed to as authorities in religion; and he is ready to defend his conduct by the examples of the gods. These are the very tales which Socrates cannot abide; and his dislike of them, as he suspects, has branded him with the reputation of impiety. Here is one answer to the question, 'Why Socrates was put to death,' suggested by the way. Another is conveyed in the words, 'The Athenians do not care about any man being thought wise until he begins to make other men wise; and then for some reason or other they are angry:' which may be said to be the rule of popular toleration in most other countries, and not at Athens only. In the course of the argument Socrates remarks that the controversial nature of morals and religion arises out of the difficulty of verifying them. There is no measure or standard to which they can be referred.
  The next definition, 'Piety is that which is loved of the gods,' is shipwrecked on a refined distinction between the state and the act, corresponding respectively to the adjective (philon) and the participle (philoumenon), or rather perhaps to the participle and the verb (philoumenon and phileitai). The act is prior to the state (as in Aristotle the energeia precedes the dunamis); and the state of being loved is preceded by the act of being loved. But piety or holiness is preceded by the act of being pious, not by the act of being loved; and therefore piety and the state of being loved are different. Through such subtleties of dialectic Socrates is working his way into a deeper region of thought and feeling. He means to say that the words 'loved of the gods' express an attri bute only, and not the essence of piety.

Gorgias, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Polus suggests that Gorgias may be tired, and desires to answer for him. 'Who is Gorgias?' asks Chaerephon, imitating the manner of his master Socrates. 'One of the best of men, and a proficient in the best and noblest of experimental arts,' etc., replies Polus, in rhetorical and balanced phrases. Socrates is dissatisfied at the length and unmeaningness of the answer; he tells the disconcerted volunteer that he has mistaken the quality for the nature of the art, and remarks to Gorgias, that Polus has learnt how to make a speech, but not how to answer a question. He wishes that Gorgias would answer him. Gorgias is willing enough, and replies to the question asked by Chaerephon,that he is a rhetorician, and in Homeric language, 'boasts himself to be a good one.' At the request of Socrates he promises to be brief; for 'he can be as long as he pleases, and as short as he pleases.' Socrates would have him bestow his length on others, and proceeds to ask him a number of questions, which are answered by him to his own great satisfaction, and with a brevity which excites the admiration of Socrates. The result of the discussion may be summed up as follows:
  Rhetoric treats of discourse; but music and medicine, and other particular arts, are also concerned with discourse; in what way then does rhetoric differ from them? Gorgias draws a distinction between the arts which deal with words, and the arts which have to do with external actions. Socrates extends this distinction further, and divides all productive arts into two classes: (1) arts which may be carried on in silence; and (2) arts which have to do with words, or in which words are coextensive with action, such as arithmetic, geometry, rhetoric. But still Gorgias could hardly have meant to say that arithmetic was the same as rhetoric. Even in the arts which are concerned with words there are differences. What then distinguishes rhetoric from the other arts which have to do with words? 'The words which rhetoric uses relate to the best and greatest of human things.' But tell me, Gorgias, what are the best? 'Health first, beauty next, wealth third,' in the words of the old song, or how would you rank them? The arts will come to you in a body, each claiming precedence and saying that her own good is superior to that of the restHow will you choose between them? 'I should say, Socrates, that the art of persuasion, which gives freedom to all men, and to individuals power in the state, is the greatest good.' But what is the exact nature of this persuasion?is the persevering retort: You could not describe Zeuxis as a painter, or even as a painter of figures, if there were other painters of figures; neither can you define rhetoric simply as an art of persuasion, because there are other arts which persuade, such as arithmetic, which is an art of persuasion about odd and even numbers. Gorgias is made to see the necessity of a further limitation, and he now defines rhetoric as the art of persuading in the law courts, and in the assembly, about the just and unjust. But still there are two sorts of persuasion: one which gives knowledge, and another which gives belief without knowledge; and knowledge is always true, but belief may be either true or false,there is therefore a further question: which of the two sorts of persuasion does rhetoric effect in courts of law and assemblies? Plainly that which gives belief and not that which gives knowledge; for no one can impart a real knowledge of such matters to a crowd of persons in a few minutes. And there is another point to be considered:when the assembly meets to advise about walls or docks or military expeditions, the rhetorician is not taken into counsel, but the architect, or the general. How would Gorgias explain this phenomenon? All who intend to become disciples, of whom there are several in the company, and not Socrates only, are eagerly asking:About what then will rhetoric teach us to persuade or advise the state?
  For there are two classes of souls who undergo punishmentthe curable and the incurable. The curable are those who are benefited by their punishment; the incurable are such as Archelaus, who benefit others by becoming a warning to them. The latter class are generally kings and potentates; meaner persons, happily for themselves, have not the same power of doing injustice. Sisyphus and Tityus, not Thersites, are supposed by Homer to be undergoing everlasting punishment. Not that there is anything to prevent a great man from being a good one, as is shown by the famous example of Aristeides, the son of Lysimachus. But to Rhadamanthus the souls are only known as good or bad; they are stripped of their dignities and preferments; he despatches the bad to Tartarus, labelled either as curable or incurable, and looks with love and admiration on the soul of some just one, whom he sends to the islands of the blest. Similar is the practice of Aeacus; and Minos overlooks them, holding a golden sceptre, as Odysseus in Homer saw him
     'Wielding a sceptre of gold, and giving laws to the dead.'
  d. A few minor points still remain to be summed up: (1) The extravagant irony in the reason which is assigned for the pilot's modest charge; and in the proposed use of rhetoric as an instrument of self-condemnation; and in the mighty power of geometrical equality in both worlds. (2) The reference of the mythus to the previous discussion should not be overlooked: the fate reserved for incurable criminals such as Archelaus; the retaliation of the box on the ears; the nakedness of the souls and of the judges who are stript of the clothes or disguises which rhetoric and public opinion have hitherto provided for them (compare Swift's notion that the universe is a suit of clothes, Tale of a Tub). The fiction seems to have involved Plato in the necessity of supposing that the soul retained a sort of corporeal likeness after death. (3) The appeal of the authority of Homer, who says that Odysseus saw Minos in his court 'holding a golden sceptre,' which gives verisimilitude to the tale.
  It is scarcely necessary to repeat that Plato is playing 'both sides of the game,' and that in criticising the characters of Gorgias and Polus, we are not passing any judgment on historical individuals, but only attempting to analyze the 'dramatis personae' as they were conceived by him. Neither is it necessary to enlarge upon the obvious fact that Plato is a dramatic writer, whose real opinions cannot always be assumed to be those which he puts into the mouth of Socrates, or any other speaker who appears to have the best of the argument; or to repeat the observation that he is a poet as well as a philosopher; or to remark that he is not to be tried by a modern standard, but interpreted with reference to his place in the history of thought and the opinion of his time.
  Neither this, nor any of the three greater myths of Plato, nor perhaps any allegory or parable relating to the unseen world, is consistent with itself. The language of philosophy mingles with that of mythology; abstract ideas are transformed into persons, figures of speech into realities. These myths may be compared with the Pilgrim's Progress of Bunyan, in which discussions of theology are mixed up with the incidents of travel, and mythological personages are associated with human beings: they are also garnished with names and phrases taken out of Homer, and with other fragments of Greek tradition.
  The myth of the Republic is more subtle and also more consistent than either of the two others. It has a greater verisimilitude than they have, and is full of touches which recall the experiences of human life. It will be noticed by an attentive reader that the twelve days during which Er lay in a trance after he was slain coincide with the time passed by the spirits in their pilgrimage. It is a curious observation, not often made, that good men who have lived in a well-governed city (shall we say in a religious and respectable society?) are more likely to make mistakes in their choice of life than those who have had more experience of the world and of evil. It is a more familiar remark that we constantly blame others when we have only ourselves to blame; and the philosopher must acknowledge, however reluctantly, that there is an element of chance in human life with which it is sometimes impossible for man to cope. That men drink more of the waters of forgetfulness than is good for them is a poetical description of a familiar truth. We have many of us known men who, like Odysseus, have wearied of ambition and have only desired rest. We should like to know what became of the infants 'dying almost as soon as they were born,' but Plato only raises, without satisfying, our curiosity. The two companies of souls, ascending and descending at either chasm of heaven and earth, and conversing when they come out into the meadow, the majestic figures of the judges sitting in heaven, the voice heard by Ardiaeus, are features of the great allegory which have an indescribable grandeur and power. The remark already made respecting the inconsistency of the two other myths must be extended also to this: it is at once an orrery, or model of the heavens, and a picture of the Day of Judgment.
  GORGIAS: Yes, Socrates, and a good one too, if you would call me that which, in Homeric language, 'I boast myself to be.'
  SOCRATES: I should wish to do so.
  SOCRATES: And are not just men gentle, as Homer says?or are you of another mind?
  CALLICLES: I agree.
  SOCRATES: Listen, then, as story-tellers say, to a very pretty tale, which I dare say that you may be disposed to regard as a fable only, but which, as I believe, is a true tale, for I mean to speak the truth. Homer tells us (Il.), how Zeus and Poseidon and Pluto divided the empire which they inherited from their father. Now in the days of Cronos there existed a law respecting the destiny of man, which has always been, and still continues to be in Heaven,that he who has lived all his life in justice and holiness shall go, when he is dead, to the Islands of the Blessed, and dwell there in perfect happiness out of the reach of evil; but that he who has lived unjustly and impiously shall go to the house of vengeance and punishment, which is called Tartarus. And in the time of Cronos, and even quite lately in the reign of Zeus, the judgment was given on the very day on which the men were to die; the judges were alive, and the men were alive; and the consequence was that the judgments were not well given. Then Pluto and the authorities from the Islands of the Blessed came to Zeus, and said that the souls found their way to the wrong places. Zeus said: 'I shall put a stop to this; the judgments are not well given, because the persons who are judged have their clothes on, for they are alive; and there are many who, having evil souls, are apparelled in fair bodies, or encased in wealth or rank, and, when the day of judgment arrives, numerous witnesses come forward and testify on their behalf that they have lived righteously. The judges are awed by them, and they themselves too have their clothes on when judging; their eyes and ears and their whole bodies are interposed as a veil before their own souls. All this is a hindrance to them; there are the clothes of the judges and the clothes of the judged.What is to be done? I will tell you:In the first place, I will deprive men of the foreknowledge of death, which they possess at present: this power which they have Prometheus has already received my orders to take from them: in the second place, they shall be entirely stripped before they are judged, for they shall be judged when they are dead; and the judge too shall be naked, that is to say, deadhe with his naked soul shall pierce into the other naked souls; and they shall die suddenly and be deprived of all their kindred, and leave their brave attire strewn upon the earthconducted in this manner, the judgment will be just. I knew all about the matter before any of you, and therefore I have made my sons judges; two from Asia, Minos and Rhadamanthus, and one from Europe, Aeacus. And these, when they are dead, shall give judgment in the meadow at the parting of the ways, whence the two roads lead, one to the Islands of the Blessed, and the other to Tartarus. Rhadamanthus shall judge those who come from Asia, and Aeacus those who come from Europe. And to Minos I shall give the primacy, and he shall hold a court of appeal, in case either of the two others are in any doubt:then the judgment respecting the last journey of men will be as just as possible.'
  From this tale, Callicles, which I have heard and believe, I draw the following inferences:Death, if I am right, is in the first place the separation from one another of two things, soul and body; nothing else. And after they are separated they retain their several natures, as in life; the body keeps the same habit, and the results of treatment or accident are distinctly visible in it: for example, he who by nature or training or both, was a tall man while he was alive, will remain as he was, after he is dead; and the fat man will remain fat; and so on; and the dead man, who in life had a fancy to have flowing hair, will have flowing hair. And if he was marked with the whip and had the prints of the scourge, or of wounds in him when he was alive, you might see the same in the dead body; and if his limbs were broken or misshapen when he was alive, the same appearance would be visible in the dead. And in a word, whatever was the habit of the body during life would be distinguishable after death, either perfectly, or in a great measure and for a certain time. And I should imagine that this is equally true of the soul, Callicles; when a man is stripped of the body, all the natural or acquired affections of the soul are laid open to view.And when they come to the judge, as those from Asia come to Rhadamanthus, he places them near him and inspects them quite impartially, not knowing whose the soul is: perhaps he may lay hands on the soul of the great king, or of some other king or potentate, who has no soundness in him, but his soul is marked with the whip, and is full of the prints and scars of perjuries and crimes with which each action has stained him, and he is all crooked with falsehood and imposture, and has no straightness, because he has lived without truth. Him Rhadamanthus beholds, full of all deformity and disproportion, which is caused by licence and luxury and insolence and incontinence, and despatches him ignominiously to his prison, and there he undergoes the punishment which he deserves.
  Now the proper office of punishment is twofold: he who is rightly punished ought either to become better and profit by it, or he ought to be made an example to his fellows, that they may see what he suffers, and fear and become better. Those who are improved when they are punished by gods and men, are those whose sins are curable; and they are improved, as in this world so also in another, by pain and suffering; for there is no other way in which they can be delivered from their evil. But they who have been guilty of the worst crimes, and are incurable by reason of their crimes, are made examples; for, as they are incurable, the time has passed at which they can receive any benefit. They get no good themselves, but others get good when they behold them enduring for ever the most terrible and painful and fearful sufferings as the penalty of their sinsthere they are, hanging up as examples, in the prison-house of the world below, a spectacle and a warning to all unrighteous men who come thither. And among them, as I confidently affirm, will be found Archelaus, if Polus truly reports of him, and any other tyrant who is like him. Of these fearful examples, most, as I believe, are taken from the class of tyrants and kings and potentates and public men, for they are the authors of the greatest and most impious crimes, because they have the power. And Homer witnesses to the truth of this; for they are always kings and potentates whom he has described as suffering everlasting punishment in the world below: such were Tantalus and Sisyphus and Tityus. But no one ever described Thersites, or any private person who was a villain, as suffering everlasting punishment, or as incurable. For to commit the worst crimes, as I am inclined to think, was not in his power, and he was happier than those who had the power. No, Callicles, the very bad men come from the class of those who have power (compare Republic). And yet in that very class there may arise good men, and worthy of all admiration they are, for where there is great power to do wrong, to live and to die justly is a hard thing, and greatly to be praised, and few there are who attain to this. Such good and true men, however, there have been, and will be again, at Athens and in other states, who have fulfilled their trust righteously; and there is one who is quite famous all over Hellas, Aristeides, the son of Lysimachus. But, in general, great men are also bad, my friend.
  As I was saying, Rhadamanthus, when he gets a soul of the bad kind, knows nothing about him, neither who he is, nor who his parents are; he knows only that he has got hold of a villain; and seeing this, he stamps him as curable or incurable, and sends him away to Tartarus, whither he goes and receives his proper recompense. Or, again, he looks with admiration on the soul of some just one who has lived in holiness and truth; he may have been a private man or not; and I should say, Callicles, that he is most likely to have been a philosopher who has done his own work, and not troubled himself with the doings of other men in his lifetime; him Rhadamanthus sends to the Islands of the Blessed. Aeacus does the same; and they both have sceptres, and judge; but Minos alone has a golden sceptre and is seated looking on, as Odysseus in Homer declares that he saw him:
  'Holding a sceptre of gold, and giving laws to the dead.'

Ion, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  The Ion is the shortest, or nearly the shortest, of all the writings which bear the name of Plato, and is not au thenticated by any early external testimony. The grace and beauty of this little work supply the only, and perhaps a sufficient, proof of its genuineness. The plan is simple; the dramatic interest consists entirely in the contrast between the irony of Socrates and the transparent vanity and childlike enthusiasm of the rhapsode Ion. The theme of the Dialogue may possibly have been suggested by the passage of Xenophon's Memorabilia in which the rhapsodists are described by Euthydemus as 'very precise about the exact words of Homer, but very idiotic themselves.' (Compare Aristotle, Met.)
  Ion the rhapsode has just come to Athens; he has been exhibiting in Epidaurus at the festival of Asclepius, and is intending to exhibit at the festival of the Pana thenaea. Socrates admires and envies the rhapsode's art; for he is always well dressed and in good companyin the company of good poets and of Homer, who is the prince of them. In the course of conversation the admission is elicited from Ion that his skill is restricted to Homer, and that he knows nothing of inferior poets, such as Hesiod and Archilochus;he brightens up and is wide awake when Homer is being recited, but is apt to go to sleep at the recitations of any other poet. 'And yet, surely, he who knows the superior ought to know the inferior also;he who can judge of the good speaker is able to judge of the bad. And poetry is a whole; and he who judges of poetry by rules of art ought to be able to judge of all poetry.' This is confirmed by the analogy of sculpture, painting, flute-playing, and the other arts. The argument is at last brought home to the mind of Ion, who asks how this contradiction is to be solved. The solution given by Socrates is as follows:
  The rhapsode is not guided by rules of art, but is an inspired person who derives a mysterious power from the poet; and the poet, in like manner, is inspired by the God. The poets and their interpreters may be compared to a chain of magnetic rings suspended from one another, and from a magnet. The magnet is the Muse, and the ring which immediately follows is the poet himself; from him are suspended other poets; there is also a chain of rhapsodes and actors, who also hang from the Muses, but are let down at the side; and the last ring of all is the spectator. The poet is the inspired interpreter of the God, and this is the reason why some poets, like Homer, are restricted to a single theme, or, like Tynnichus, are famous for a single poem; and the rhapsode is the inspired interpreter of the poet, and for a similar reason some rhapsodes, like Ion, are the interpreters of single poets.
  Ion is delighted at the notion of being inspired, and acknowledges that he is beside himself when he is performing;his eyes rain tears and his hair stands on end. Socrates is of opinion that a man must be mad who behaves in this way at a festival when he is surrounded by his friends and there is nothing to trouble him. Ion is confident that Socrates would never think him mad if he could only hear his embellishments of Homer. Socrates asks whether he can speak well about everything in Homer. 'Yes, indeed he can.' 'What about things of which he has no knowledge?' Ion answers that he can interpret anything in Homer. But, rejoins Socrates, when Homer speaks of the arts, as for example, of chariot-driving, or of medicine, or of prophecy, or of navigationwill he, or will the charioteer or physician or prophet or pilot be the better judge? Ion is compelled to admit that every man will judge of his own particular art better than the rhapsode. He still maintains, however, that he understands the art of the general as well as any one. 'Then why in this city of Athens, in which men of merit are always being sought after, is he not at once appointed a general?' Ion replies that he is a foreigner, and the Athenians and Spartans will not appoint a foreigner to be their general. 'No, that is not the real reason; there are many examples to the contrary. But Ion has long been playing tricks with the argument; like Proteus, he transforms himself into a variety of shapes, and is at last about to run away in the disguise of a general. Would he rather be regarded as inspired or dishonest?' Ion, who has no suspicion of the irony of Socrates, eagerly embraces the alternative of inspiration.
  The Ion, like the other earlier Platonic Dialogues, is a mixture of jest and earnest, in which no definite result is obtained, but some Socratic or Platonic truths are allowed dimly to appear.
  In the Protagoras the ancient poets are recognized by Protagoras himself as the original sophists; and this family resemblance may be traced in the Ion. The rhapsode belongs to the realm of imitation and of opinion: he professes to have all knowledge, which is derived by him from Homer, just as the sophist professes to have all wisdom, which is contained in his art of rhetoric. Even more than the sophist he is incapable of appreciating the commonest logical distinctions; he cannot explain the nature of his own art; his great memory contrasts with his inability to follow the steps of the argument. And in his highest moments of inspiration he has an eye to his own gains.
  The old quarrel between philosophy and poetry, which in the Republic leads to their final separation, is already working in the mind of Plato, and is embodied by him in the contrast between Socrates and Ion. Yet here, as in the Republic, Socrates shows a sympathy with the poetic nature. Also, the manner in which Ion is affected by his own recitations affords a lively illustration of the power which, in the Republic, Socrates attributes to dramatic performances over the mind of the performer. His allusion to his embellishments of Homer, in which he declares himself to have surpassed Metrodorus of Lampsacus and Stesimbrotus of Thasos, seems to show that, like them, he belonged to the allegorical school of interpreters. The circumstance that nothing more is known of him may be adduced in confirmation of the argument that this truly Platonic little work is not a forgery of later times.
  SOCRATES: I often envy the profession of a rhapsode, Ion; for you have always to wear fine clothes, and to look as beautiful as you can is a part of your art. Then, again, you are obliged to be continually in the company of many good poets; and especially of Homer, who is the best and most divine of them; and to understand him, and not merely learn his words by rote, is a thing greatly to be envied. And no man can be a rhapsode who does not understand the meaning of the poet. For the rhapsode ought to interpret the mind of the poet to his hearers, but how can he interpret him well unless he knows what he means? All this is greatly to be envied.
  ION: Very true, Socrates; interpretation has certainly been the most laborious part of my art; and I believe myself able to speak about Homer better than any man; and that neither Metrodorus of Lampsacus, nor Stesimbrotus of Thasos, nor Glaucon, nor any one else who ever was, had as good ideas about Homer as I have, or as many.
  SOCRATES: I am glad to hear you say so, Ion; I see that you will not refuse to acquaint me with them.
  ION: Certainly, Socrates; and you really ought to hear how exquisitely I render Homer. I think that the Homeridae should give me a golden crown.
  SOCRATES: I shall take an opportunity of hearing your embellishments of him at some other time. But just now I should like to ask you a question: Does your art extend to Hesiod and Archilochus, or to Homer only?
  ION: To Homer only; he is in himself quite enough.
  SOCRATES: Are there any things about which Homer and Hesiod agree?
  ION: Yes; in my opinion there are a good many.
  SOCRATES: And can you interpret better what Homer says, or what Hesiod says, about these matters in which they agree?
  ION: I can interpret them equally well, Socrates, where they agree.
  SOCRATES: But what about matters in which they do not agree?for example, about divination, of which both Homer and Hesiod have something to say,
  ION: Very true:
  SOCRATES: But how did you come to have this skill about Homer only, and not about Hesiod or the other poets? Does not Homer speak of the same themes which all other poets handle? Is not war his great argument? and does he not speak of human society and of intercourse of men, good and bad, skilled and unskilled, and of the gods conversing with one another and with mankind, and about what happens in heaven and in the world below, and the generations of gods and heroes? Are not these the themes of which Homer sings?
  ION: Very true, Socrates.
  ION: Yes, Socrates; but not in the same way as Homer.
  SOCRATES: What, in a worse way?
  SOCRATES: And Homer in a better way?
  ION: He is incomparably better.
  SOCRATES: And you say that Homer and the other poets, such as Hesiod and Archilochus, speak of the same things, although not in the same way; but the one speaks well and the other not so well?
  ION: Yes; and I am right in saying so.
  SOCRATES: Then, my dear friend, can I be mistaken in saying that Ion is equally skilled in Homer and in other poets, since he himself acknowledges that the same person will be a good judge of all those who speak of the same things; and that almost all poets do speak of the same things?
  ION: Why then, Socrates, do I lose attention and go to sleep and have absolutely no ideas of the least value, when any one speaks of any other poet; but when Homer is mentioned, I wake up at once and am all attention and have plenty to say?
  SOCRATES: The reason, my friend, is obvious. No one can fail to see that you speak of Homer without any art or knowledge. If you were able to speak of him by rules of art, you would have been able to speak of all other poets; for poetry is a whole.
  ION: Yes.
  ION: I cannot deny what you say, Socrates. Nevertheless I am conscious in my own self, and the world agrees with me in thinking that I do speak better and have more to say about Homer than any other man. But I do not speak equally well about otherstell me the reason of this.
  SOCRATES: I perceive, Ion; and I will proceed to explain to you what I imagine to be the reason of this. The gift which you possess of speaking excellently about Homer is not an art, but, as I was just saying, an inspiration; 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 versesand he who is good at one is not good at 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 is 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? Am I not right, Ion?
  ION: Yes, indeed, Socrates, I feel that you are; for your words touch my soul, and I am persuaded that good poets by a divine inspiration interpret the things of the Gods to us.
  SOCRATES: Do you know that the spectator is the last of the rings which, as I am saying, receive the power of the original magnet from one another? The rhapsode like yourself and the actor are intermediate links, and the poet himself is the first of them. Through all these the God sways the souls of men in any direction which he pleases, and makes one man hang down from another. Thus there is a vast chain of dancers and masters and under-masters of choruses, who are suspended, as if from the stone, at the side of the rings which hang down from the Muse. And every poet has some Muse from whom he is suspended, and by whom he is said to be possessed, which is nearly the same thing; for he is taken hold of. And from these first rings, which are the poets, depend others, some deriving their inspiration from Orpheus, others from Musaeus; but the greater number are possessed and held by Homer. Of whom, Ion, you are one, and are possessed by Homer; and when any one repeats the words of another poet you go to sleep, and know not what to say; but when any one recites a strain of Homer you wake up in a moment, and your soul leaps within you, and you have plenty to say; for not by art or knowledge about Homer do you say what you say, but by divine inspiration and by possession; just as the Corybantian revellers too have a quick perception of that strain only which is appropriated to the God by whom they are possessed, and have plenty of dances and words for that, but take no heed of any other. And you, Ion, when the name of Homer is mentioned have plenty to say, and have nothing to say of others. You ask, 'Why is this?' The answer is that you praise Homer not by art but by divine inspiration.
  ION: That is good, Socrates; and yet I doubt whether you will ever have eloquence enough to persuade me that I praise Homer only when I am mad and possessed; and if you could hear me speak of him I am sure you would never think this to be the case.
  SOCRATES: I should like very much to hear you, but not until you have answered a question which I have to ask. On what part of Homer do you speak well?not surely about every part.
  ION: There is no part, Socrates, about which I do not speak well: of that I can assure you.
  SOCRATES: Surely not about things in Homer of which you have no knowledge?
  ION: And what is there in Homer of which I have no knowledge?
  SOCRATES: Why, does not Homer speak in many passages about arts? For example, about driving; if I can only remember the lines I will repeat them.
  ION: I remember, and will repeat them.
  SOCRATES: Then which will be a better judge of the lines which you were reciting from Homer, you or the charioteer?
  ION: The charioteer.
  SOCRATES: And when Homer says,
  'And she descended into the deep like a leaden plummet, which, set in the horn of ox that ranges in the fields, rushes along carrying death among the ravenous fishes (Il.),'
  SOCRATES: Come now, suppose that you were to say to me: 'Since you, Socrates, are able to assign different passages in Homer to their corresponding arts, I wish that you would tell me what are the passages of which the excellence ought to be judged by the prophet and prophetic art'; and you will see how readily and truly I shall answer you. For there are many such passages, particularly in the Odyssee; as, for example, the passage in which Theoclymenus the prophet of the house of Melampus says to the suitors:
  'Wretched men! what is happening to you? Your heads and your faces and your limbs underneath are shrouded in night; and the voice of lamentation bursts forth, and your cheeks are wet with tears. And the vestibule is full, and the court is full, of ghosts descending into the darkness of Erebus, and the sun has perished out of heaven, and an evil mist is spread abroad (Od.).'
  SOCRATES: Yes, Ion, and you are right also. And as I have selected from the Iliad and Odyssee for you passages which describe the office of the prophet and the physician and the fisherman, do you, who know Homer so much better than I do, Ion, select for me passages which relate to the rhapsode and the rhapsode's art, and which the rhapsode ought to examine and judge of better than other men.
  ION: All passages, I should say, Socrates.
  ION: To be sure, Socrates; and Homer was my master.
  SOCRATES: But then, Ion, what in the name of goodness can be the reason why you, who are the best of generals as well as the best of rhapsodes in all Hellas, go about as a rhapsode when you might be a general? Do you think that the Hellenes want a rhapsode with his golden crown, and do not want a general?
  SOCRATES: One who, though a foreigner, has often been chosen their general by the Athenians: and there is Phanos thenes of Andros, and Heraclides of Clazomenae, whom they have also appointed to the comm and of their armies and to other offices, although aliens, after they had shown their merit. And will they not choose Ion the Ephesian to be their general, and honour him, if he prove himself worthy? Were not the Ephesians originally Athenians, and Ephesus is no mean city? But, indeed, Ion, if you are correct in saying that by art and knowledge you are able to praise Homer, you do not deal fairly with me, and after all your professions of knowing many glorious things about Homer, and promises that you would exhibit them, you are only a deceiver, and so far from exhibiting the art of which you are a master, will not, even after my repeated entreaties, explain to me the nature of it. You have literally as many forms as Proteus; and now you go all manner of ways, twisting and turning, and, like Proteus, become all manner of people at once, and at last slip away from me in the disguise of a general, in order that you may escape exhibiting your Homeric lore. And if you have art, then, as I was saying, in falsifying your promise that you would exhibit Homer, you are not dealing fairly with me. But if, as I believe, you have no art, but speak all these beautiful words about Homer unconsciously under his inspiring influence, then I acquit you of dishonesty, and shall only say that you are inspired. Which do you prefer to be thought, dishonest or inspired?
  ION: There is a great difference, Socrates, between the two alternatives; and inspiration is by far the nobler.
  SOCRATES: Then, Ion, I shall assume the nobler alternative; and attri bute to you in your praises of Homer inspiration, and not art.

Liber 46 - The Key of the Mysteries, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
   fables of Homer remain truer than history, and nothing remains to us of
   the grandeur of Rome {56} but the immortal writings which the century
   invention of letters. But, in the conception of Homer, Palamedes, the
   man who exposed the fraud of Ulysses and fell a victim to his revenge,

Meno, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  SOCRATES: I do not care; as for Anytus, there will be another opportunity of talking with him. To sum up our enquirythe result seems to be, if we are at all right in our view, that virtue is neither natural nor acquired, but an instinct given by God to the virtuous. Nor is the instinct accompanied by reason, unless there may be supposed to be among statesmen some one who is capable of educating statesmen. And if there be such an one, he may be said to be among the living what Homer says that Tiresias was among the dead, 'he alone has understanding; but the rest are flitting shades'; and he and his virtue in like manner will be a reality among shadows.
  MENO: That is excellent, Socrates.

Phaedo, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  At his request Simmias and Cebes repeat their objections. They do not go to the length of denying the pre-existence of ideas. Simmias is of opinion that the soul is a harmony of the body. But the admission of the pre-existence of ideas, and therefore of the soul, is at variance with this. (Compare a parallel difficulty in Theaet.) For a harmony is an effect, whereas the soul is not an effect, but a cause; a harmony follows, but the soul leads; a harmony admits of degrees, and the soul has no degrees. Again, upon the supposition that the soul is a harmony, why is one soul better than another? Are they more or less harmonized, or is there one harmony within another? But the soul does not admit of degrees, and cannot therefore be more or less harmonized. Further, the soul is often engaged in resisting the affections of the body, as Homer describes Odysseus 'rebuking his heart.' Could he have written this under the idea that the soul is a harmony of the body? Nay rather, are we not contradicting Homer and ourselves in affirming anything of the sort?
  The goddess Harmonia, as Socrates playfully terms the argument of Simmias, has been happily disposed of; and now an answer has to be given to the Theban Cadmus. Socrates recapitulates the argument of Cebes, which, as he remarks, involves the whole question of natural growth or causation; about this he proposes to narrate his own mental experience. When he was young he had puzzled himself with physics: he had enquired into the growth and decay of animals, and the origin of thought, until at last he began to doubt the self-evident fact that growth is the result of eating and drinking; and so he arrived at the conclusion that he was not meant for such enquiries. Nor was he less perplexed with notions of comparison and number. At first he had imagined himself to understand differences of greater and less, and to know that ten is two more than eight, and the like. But now those very notions appeared to him to contain a contradiction. For how can one be divided into two? Or two be compounded into one? These are difficulties which Socrates cannot answer. Of generation and destruction he knows nothing. But he has a confused notion of another method in which matters of this sort are to be investigated. (Compare Republic; Charm.)
  15. The doctrine of the immortality of the soul was not new to the Greeks in the age of Socrates, but, like the unity of God, had a foundation in the popular belief. The old Homeric notion of a gibbering ghost flitting away to Hades; or of a few illustrious heroes enjoying the isles of the blest; or of an existence divided between the two; or the Hesiodic, of righteous spirits, who become guardian angels,had given place in the mysteries and the Orphic poets to representations, partly fanciful, of a future state of rewards and punishments. (Laws.) The reticence of the Greeks on public occasions and in some part of their literature respecting this 'underground' religion, is not to be taken as a measure of the diffusion of such beliefs. If Pericles in the funeral oration is silent on the consolations of immortality, the poet Pindar and the tragedians on the other hand constantly assume the continued existence of the dead in an upper or under world. Darius and Laius are still alive; Antigone will be dear to her brethren after death; the way to the palace of Cronos is found by those who 'have thrice departed from evil.' The tragedy of the Greeks is not 'rounded' by this life, but is deeply set in decrees of fate and mysterious workings of powers beneath the earth. In the caricature of Aristophanes there is also a witness to the common sentiment. The Ionian and Pythagorean philosophies arose, and some new elements were added to the popular belief. The individual must find an expression as well as the world. Either the soul was supposed to exist in the form of a magnet, or of a particle of fire, or of light, or air, or water; or of a number or of a harmony of number; or to be or have, like the stars, a principle of motion (Arist. de Anim.). At length Anaxagoras, hardly distinguishing between life and mind, or between mind human and divine, attained the pure abstraction; and this, like the other abstractions of Greek philosophy, sank deep into the human intelligence. The opposition of the intelligible and the sensible, and of God to the world, supplied an analogy which assisted in the separation of soul and body. If ideas were separable from phenomena, mind was also separable from matter; if the ideas were eternal, the mind that conceived them was eternal too. As the unity of God was more distinctly acknowledged, the conception of the human soul became more developed. The succession, or alternation of life and death, had occurred to Heracleitus. The Eleatic Parmenides had stumbled upon the modern thesis, that 'thought and being are the same.' The Eastern belief in transmigration defined the sense of individuality; and some, like Empedocles, fancied that the blood which they had shed in another state of being was crying against them, and that for thirty thousand years they were to be 'fugitives and vagabonds upon the earth.' The desire of recognizing a lost mother or love or friend in the world below (Phaedo) was a natural feeling which, in that age as well as in every other, has given distinctness to the hope of immortality. Nor were ethical considerations wanting, partly derived from the necessity of punishing the greater sort of criminals, whom no avenging power of this world could reach. The voice of conscience, too, was heard reminding the good man that he was not altogether innocent. (Republic.) To these indistinct longings and fears an expression was given in the mysteries and Orphic poets: a 'heap of books' (Republic), passing under the names of Musaeus and Orpheus in Plato's time, were filled with notions of an under-world.
  16. Yet after all the belief in the individuality of the soul after death had but a feeble hold on the Greek mind. Like the personality of God, the personality of man in a future state was not inseparably bound up with the reality of his existence. For the distinction between the personal and impersonal, and also between the divine and human, was far less marked to the Greek than to ourselves. And as Plato readily passes from the notion of the good to that of God, he also passes almost imperceptibly to himself and his reader from the future life of the individual soul to the eternal being of the absolute soul. There has been a clearer statement and a clearer denial of the belief in modern times than is found in early Greek philosophy, and hence the comparative silence on the whole subject which is often remarked in ancient writers, and particularly in Aristotle. For Plato and Aristotle are not further removed in their teaching about the immortality of the soul than they are in their theory of knowledge.
  The Dialogue must be read in the light of the situation. And first of all we are struck by the calmness of the scene. Like the spectators at the time, we cannot pity Socrates; his mien and his language are so noble and fearless. He is the same that he ever was, but milder and gentler, and he has in no degree lost his interest in dialectics; he will not forego the delight of an argument in compliance with the jailer's intimation that he should not heat himself with talking. At such a time he naturally expresses the hope of his life, that he has been a true mystic and not a mere retainer or wand-bearer: and he refers to passages of his personal history. To his old enemies the Comic poets, and to the proceedings on the trial, he alludes playfully; but he vividly remembers the disappointment which he felt in reading the books of Anaxagoras. The return of Xanthippe and his children indicates that the philosopher is not 'made of oak or rock.' Some other traits of his character may be noted; for example, the courteous manner in which he inclines his head to the last objector, or the ironical touch, 'Me already, as the tragic poet would say, the voice of fate calls;' or the depreciation of the arguments with which 'he comforted himself and them;' or his fear of 'misology;' or his references to Homer; or the playful smile with which he 'talks like a book' about greater and less; or the allusion to the possibility of finding another teacher among barbarous races (compare Polit.); or the mysterious reference to another science (mathematics?) of generation and destruction for which he is vainly feeling. There is no change in him; only now he is invested with a sort of sacred character, as the prophet or priest of Apollo the God of the festival, in whose honour he first of all composes a hymn, and then like the swan pours forth his dying lay. Perhaps the extreme elevation of Socrates above his own situation, and the ordinary interests of life (compare his jeu d'esprit about his burial, in which for a moment he puts on the 'Silenus mask'), create in the mind of the reader an impression stronger than could be derived from arguments that such a one has in him 'a principle which does not admit of death.'
  The other persons of the Dialogue may be considered under two heads: (1) private friends; (2) the respondents in the argument.
  And yet do we not now discover the soul to be doing the exact oppositeleading the elements of which she is believed to be composed; almost always opposing and coercing them in all sorts of ways throughout life, sometimes more violently with the pains of medicine and gymnastic; then again more gently; now threatening, now admonishing the desires, passions, fears, as if talking to a thing which is not herself, as Homer in the Odyssee represents Odysseus doing in the words
  'He beat his breast, and thus reproached his heart: Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured!'
  Do you think that Homer wrote this under the idea that the soul is a harmony capable of being led by the affections of the body, and not rather of a nature which should lead and master themherself a far diviner thing than any harmony?
  Yes, Socrates, I quite think so.
  Then, my friend, we can never be right in saying that the soul is a harmony, for we should contradict the divine Homer, and contradict ourselves.
  True, he said.
  Nay, my good friend, said Socrates, let us not boast, lest some evil eye should put to flight the word which I am about to speak. That, however, may be left in the hands of those above, while I draw near in Homeric fashion, and try the mettle of your words. Here lies the point:You want to have it proven to you that the soul is imperishable and immortal, and the philosopher who is confident in death appears to you to have but a vain and foolish confidence, if he believes that he will fare better in the world below than one who has led another sort of life, unless he can prove this; and you say that the demonstration of the strength and divinity of the soul, and of her existence prior to our becoming men, does not necessarily imply her immortality. Admitting the soul to be longlived, and to have known and done much in a former state, still she is not on that account immortal; and her entrance into the human form may be a sort of disease which is the beginning of dissolution, and may at last, after the toils of life are over, end in that which is called death. And whether the soul enters into the body once only or many times, does not, as you say, make any difference in the fears of individuals. For any man, who is not devoid of sense, must fear, if he has no knowledge and can give no account of the soul's immortality. This, or something like this, I suspect to be your notion, Cebes; and I designedly recur to it in order that nothing may escape us, and that you may, if you wish, add or subtract anything.
  But, said Cebes, as far as I see at present, I have nothing to add or subtract: I mean what you say that I mean.
  Such is the nature of the whole earth, and of the things which are around the earth; and there are divers regions in the hollows on the face of the globe everywhere, some of them deeper and more extended than that which we inhabit, others deeper but with a narrower opening than ours, and some are shallower and also wider. All have numerous perforations, and there are passages broad and narrow in the interior of the earth, connecting them with one another; and there flows out of and into them, as into basins, a vast tide of water, and huge subterranean streams of perennial rivers, and springs hot and cold, and a great fire, and great rivers of fire, and streams of liquid mud, thin or thick (like the rivers of mud in Sicily, and the lava streams which follow them), and the regions about which they happen to flow are filled up with them. And there is a swinging or see-saw in the interior of the earth which moves all this up and down, and is due to the following cause:There is a chasm which is the vastest of them all, and pierces right through the whole earth; this is that chasm which Homer describes in the words,
     'Far off, where is the inmost depth beneath the earth;'

Sophist, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  But the negative as well as the positive idea had sunk deep into the intellect of man. The effect of the paradoxes of Zeno extended far beyond the Eleatic circle. And now an unforeseen consequence began to arise. If the Many were not, if all things were names of the One, and nothing could be predicated of any other thing, how could truth be distinguished from falsehood? The Eleatic philosopher would have replied that Being is alone true. But mankind had got beyond his barren abstractions: they were beginning to analyze, to classify, to define, to ask what is the nature of knowledge, opinion, sensation. Still less could they be content with the description which Achilles gives in Homer of the man whom his soul hates
  os chi eteron men keu the eni phresin, allo de eipe.
  The saying or thinking the thing that is not, would be the popular definition of falsehood or error. If we were met by the Sophist's objection, the reply would probably be an appeal to experience. Ten thousands, as Homer would say (mala murioi), tell falsehoods and fall into errors. And this is Plato's reply, both in the Cratylus and Sophist. 'Theaetetus is flying,' is a sentence in form quite as grammatical as 'Theaetetus is sitting'; the difference between the two sentences is, that the one is true and the other false. But, before making this appeal to common sense, Plato propounds for our consideration a theory of the nature of the negative.
  The theory is, that Not-being is relation. Not-being is the other of Being, and has as many kinds as there are differences in Being. This doctrine is the simple converse of the famous proposition of Spinoza,not 'Omnis determinatio est negatio,' but 'Omnis negatio est determinatio';not, All distinction is negation, but, All negation is distinction. Not-being is the unfolding or determining of Being, and is a necessary element in all other things that are. We should be careful to observe, first, that Plato does not identify Being with Not-being; he has no idea of progression by antagonism, or of the Hegelian vibration of moments: he would not have said with Heracleitus, 'All things are and are not, and become and become not.' Secondly, he has lost sight altogether of the other sense of Not-being, as the negative of Being; although he again and again recognizes the validity of the law of contradiction. Thirdly, he seems to confuse falsehood with negation. Nor is he quite consistent in regarding Not-being as one class of Being, and yet as coextensive with Being in general. Before analyzing further the topics thus suggested, we will endeavour to trace the manner in which Plato arrived at his conception of Not-being.
  IV. The later dialogues of Plato contain many references to contemporary philosophy. Both in the Theaetetus and in the Sophist he recognizes that he is in the midst of a fray; a huge irregular battle everywhere surrounds him (Theaet.). First, there are the two great philosophies going back into cosmogony and poetry: the philosophy of Heracleitus, supposed to have a poetical origin in Homer, and that of the Eleatics, which in a similar spirit he conceives to be even older than Xenophanes (compare Protag.). Still older were theories of two and three principles, hot and cold, moist and dry, which were ever marrying and being given in marriage: in speaking of these, he is probably referring to Pherecydes and the early Ionians. In the philosophy of motion there were different accounts of the relation of plurality and unity, which were supposed to be joined and severed by love and hate, some maintaining that this process was perpetually going on (e.g. Heracleitus); others (e.g. Empedocles) that there was an alternation of them. Of the Pythagoreans or of Anaxagoras he makes no distinct mention. His chief opponents are, first, Eristics or Megarians; secondly, the Materialists.
  The picture which he gives of both these latter schools is indistinct; and he appears reluctant to mention the names of their teachers. Nor can we easily determine how much is to be assigned to the Cynics, how much to the Megarians, or whether the 'repellent Materialists' (Theaet.) are Cynics or Atomists, or represent some unknown phase of opinion at Athens. To the Cynics and Antis thenes is commonly attri buted, on the authority of Aristotle, the denial of predication, while the Megarians are said to have been Nominalists, asserting the One Good under many names to be the true Being of Zeno and the Eleatics, and, like Zeno, employing their negative dialectic in the refutation of opponents. But the later Megarians also denied predication; and this tenet, which is attri buted to all of them by Simplicius, is certainly in accordance with their over-refining philosophy. The 'tyros young and old,' of whom Plato speaks, probably include both. At any rate, we shall be safer in accepting the general description of them which he has given, and in not attempting to draw a precise line between them.
  True to the appointment of the previous day, Theodorus and Theaetetus meet Socrates at the same spot, bringing with them an Eleatic Stranger, whom Theodorus introduces as a true philosopher. Socrates, half in jest, half in earnest, declares that he must be a god in disguise, who, as Homer would say, has come to earth that he may visit the good and evil among men, and detect the foolishness of Athenian wisdom. At any rate he is a divine person, one of a class who are hardly recognized on earth; who appear in divers formsnow as statesmen, now as sophists, and are often deemed madmen. 'Philosopher, statesman, sophist,' says Socrates, repeating the words'I should like to ask our Eleatic friend what his countrymen think of them; do they regard them as one, or three?'
  The Stranger has been already asked the same question by Theodorus and Theaetetus; and he at once replies that they are thought to be three; but to explain the difference fully would take time. He is pressed to give this fuller explanation, either in the form of a speech or of question and answer. He prefers the latter, and chooses as his respondent Theaetetus, whom he already knows, and who is recommended to him by Socrates.
  SOCRATES: Is he not rather a god, Theodorus, who comes to us in the disguise of a stranger? For Homer says that all the gods, and especially the god of strangers, are companions of the meek and just, and visit the good and evil among men. And may not your companion be one of those higher powers, a cross-examining deity, who has come to spy out our weakness in argument, and to cross-examine us?
  THEODORUS: Nay, Socrates, he is not one of the disputatious sorthe is too good for that. And, in my opinion, he is not a god at all; but divine he certainly is, for this is a title which I should give to all philosophers.
  SOCRATES: Capital, my friend! and I may add that they are almost as hard to be discerned as the gods. For the true philosophers, and such as are not merely made up for the occasion, appear in various forms unrecognized by the ignorance of men, and they 'hover about cities,' as Homer declares, looking from above upon human life; and some think nothing of them, and others can never think enough; and sometimes they appear as statesmen, and sometimes as sophists; and then, again, to many they seem to be no better than madmen. I should like to ask our Eleatic friend, if he would tell us, what is thought about them in Italy, and to whom the terms are applied.
  THEODORUS: What terms?

Symposium translated by B Jowett, #Symposium, #Plato, #Philosophy
  He will speak of the god first and then of his gifts: He is the fairest and blessedest and best of the gods, and also the youngest, having had no existence in the old days of Iapetus and Cronos when the gods were at war. The things that were done then were done of necessity and not of love. For love is young and dwells in soft places,not like Ate in Homer, walking on the skulls of men, but in their hearts and souls, which are soft enough. He is all flexibility and grace, and his habitation is among the flowers, and he cannot do or suffer wrong; for all men serve and obey him of their own free will, and where there is love there is obedience, and where obedience, there is justice; for none can be wronged of his own free will. And he is temperate as well as just, for he is the ruler of the desires, and if he rules them he must be temperate. Also he is courageous, for he is the conqueror of the lord of war. And he is wise too; for he is a poet, and the author of poesy in others. He created the animals; he is the inventor of the arts; all the gods are his subjects; he is the fairest and best himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in others; he makes men to be of one mind at a banquet, filling them with affection and emptying them of disaffection; the pilot, helper, defender, saviour of men, in whose footsteps let every man follow, chanting a strain of love. Such is the discourse, half playful, half serious, which I dedicate to the god.
  The turn of Socrates comes next. He begins by remarking satirically that he has not understood the terms of the original agreement, for he fancied that they meant to speak the true praises of love, but now he finds that they only say what is good of him, whether true or false. He begs to be absolved from speaking falsely, but he is willing to speak the truth, and proposes to begin by questioning Agathon. The result of his questions may be summed up as follows:
  The discourse of Phaedrus is half-mythical, half-ethical; and he himself, true to the character which is given him in the Dialogue bearing his name, is half-sophist, half-enthusiast. He is the critic of poetry also, who compares Homer and Aeschylus in the insipid and irrational manner of the schools of the day, characteristically reasoning about the probability of matters which do not admit of reasoning. He starts from a noble text: 'That without the sense of honour and dishonour neither states nor individuals ever do any good or great work.' But he soon passes on to more common-place topics. The antiquity of love, the blessing of having a lover, the incentive which love offers to daring deeds, the examples of Alcestis and Achilles, are the chief themes of his discourse. The love of women is regarded by him as almost on an equality with that of men; and he makes the singular remark that the gods favour the return of love which is made by the beloved more than the original sentiment, because the lover is of a nobler and diviner nature.
  There is something of a sophistical ring in the speech of Phaedrus, which recalls the first speech in imitation of Lysias, occurring in the Dialogue called the Phaedrus. This is still more marked in the speech of Pausanias which follows; and which is at once hyperlogical in form and also extremely confused and pedantic. Plato is attacking the logical feebleness of the sophists and rhetoricians, through their pupils, not forgetting by the way to satirize the monotonous and unmeaning rhythms which Prodicus and others were introducing into Attic prose (compare Protag.). Of course, he is 'playing both sides of the game,' as in the Gorgias and Phaedrus; but it is not necessary in order to understand him that we should discuss the fairness of his mode of proceeding. The love of Pausanias for Agathon has already been touched upon in the Protagoras, and is alluded to by Aristophanes. Hence he is naturally the upholder of male loves, which, like all the other affections or actions of men, he regards as varying according to the manner of their performance. Like the sophists and like Plato himself, though in a different sense, he begins his discussion by an appeal to mythology, and distinguishes between the elder and younger love. The value which he attributes to such loves as motives to virtue and philosophy is at variance with modern and Christian notions, but is in accordance with Hellenic sentiment. The opinion of Christendom has not altogether condemned passionate friendships between persons of the same sex, but has certainly not encouraged them, because though innocent in themselves in a few temperaments they are liable to degenerate into fearful evil. Pausanias is very earnest in the defence of such loves; and he speaks of them as generally approved among Hellenes and disapproved by barbarians. His speech is 'more words than matter,' and might have been composed by a pupil of Lysias or of Prodicus, although there is no hint given that Plato is specially referring to them. As Eryximachus says, 'he makes a fair beginning, but a lame ending.'
  The divine image of beauty which resides within Socrates has been revealed; the Silenus, or outward man, has now to be exhibited. The description of Socrates follows immediately after the speech of Socrates; one is the complement of the other. At the height of divine inspiration, when the force of nature can no further go, by way of contrast to this extreme idealism, Alcibiades, accompanied by a troop of revellers and a flute-girl, staggers in, and being drunk is able to tell of things which he would have been ashamed to make known if he had been sober. The state of his affections towards Socrates, unintelligible to us and perverted as they appear, affords an illustration of the power ascribed to the loves of man in the speech of Pausanias. He does not suppose his feelings to be peculiar to himself: there are several other persons in the company who have been equally in love with Socrates, and like himself have been deceived by him. The singular part of this confession is the combination of the most degrading passion with the desire of virtue and improvement. Such an union is not wholly untrue to human nature, which is capable of combining good and evil in a degree beyond what we can easily conceive. In imaginative persons, especially, the God and beast in man seem to part asunder more than is natural in a well-regulated mind. The Platonic Socrates (for of the real Socrates this may be doubted: compare his public rebuke of Critias for his shameful love of Euthydemus in Xenophon, Memorabilia) does not regard the greatest evil of Greek life as a thing not to be spoken of; but it has a ridiculous element (Plato's Symp.), and is a subject for irony, no less than for moral reprobation (compare Plato's Symp.). It is also used as a figure of speech which no one interpreted literally (compare Xen. Symp.). Nor does Plato feel any repugnance, such as would be felt in modern times, at bringing his great master and hero into connexion with nameless crimes. He is contented with representing him as a saint, who has won 'the Olympian victory' over the temptations of human nature. The fault of taste, which to us is so glaring and which was recognized by the Greeks of a later age (Athenaeus), was not perceived by Plato himself. We are still more surprised to find that the philosopher is incited to take the first step in his upward progress (Symp.) by the beauty of young men and boys, which was alone capable of inspiring the modern feeling of romance in the Greek mind. The passion of love took the spurious form of an enthusiasm for the ideal of beautya worship as of some godlike image of an Apollo or Antinous. But the love of youth when not depraved was a love of virtue and modesty as well as of beauty, the one being the expression of the other; and in certain Greek states, especially at Sparta and Thebes, the honourable attachment of a youth to an elder man was a part of his education. The 'army of lovers and their beloved who would be invincible if they could be united by such a tie' (Symp.), is not a mere fiction of Plato's, but seems actually to have existed at Thebes in the days of Epaminondas and Pelopidas, if we may believe writers cited anonymously by Plutarch, Pelop. Vit. It is observable that Plato never in the least degree excuses the depraved love of the body (compare Charm.; Rep.; Laws; Symp.; and once more Xenophon, Mem.), nor is there any Greek writer of mark who condones or approves such connexions. But owing partly to the puzzling nature of the subject these friendships are spoken of by Plato in a manner different from that customary among ourselves. To most of them we should hesitate to ascribe, any more than to the attachment of Achilles and Patroclus in Homer, an immoral or licentious character. There were many, doubtless, to whom the love of the fair mind was the noblest form of friendship (Rep.), and who deemed the friendship of man with man to be higher than the love of woman, because altogether separated from the bodily appetites. The existence of such attachments may be reasonably attri buted to the inferiority and seclusion of woman, and the want of a real family or social life and parental influence in Hellenic cities; and they were encouraged by the practice of gymnastic exercises, by the meetings of political clubs, and by the tie of military companionship. They were also an educational institution: a young person was specially entrusted by his parents to some elder friend who was expected by them to train their son in manly exercises and in virtue. It is not likely that a Greek parent committed him to a lover, any more than we should to a schoolmaster, in the expectation that he would be corrupted by him, but rather in the hope that his morals would be better cared for than was possible in a great household of slaves.
  It is difficult to adduce the authority of Plato either for or against such practices or customs, because it is not always easy to determine whether he is speaking of 'the heavenly and philosophical love, or of the coarse Polyhymnia:' and he often refers to this (e.g. in the Symposium) half in jest, yet 'with a certain degree of seriousness.' We observe that they entered into one part of Greek literature, but not into another, and that the larger part is free from such associations. Indecency was an element of the ludicrous in the old Greek Comedy, as it has been in other ages and countries. But effeminate love was always condemned as well as ridiculed by the Comic poets; and in the New Comedy the allusions to such topics have disappeared. They seem to have been no longer tolerated by the greater refinement of the age. False sentiment is found in the Lyric and Elegiac poets; and in mythology 'the greatest of the Gods' (Rep.) is not exempt from evil imputations. But the morals of a nation are not to be judged of wholly by its literature. Hellas was not necessarily more corrupted in the days of the Persian and Peloponnesian wars, or of Plato and the Orators, than England in the time of Fielding and Smollett, or France in the nineteenth century. No one supposes certain French novels to be a representation of ordinary French life. And the greater part of Greek literature, beginning with Homer and including the tragedians, philosophers, and, with the exception of the Comic poets (whose business was to raise a laugh by whatever means), all the greater writers of Hellas who have been preserved to us, are free from the taint of indecency.
  Some general considerations occur to our mind when we begin to reflect on this subject. (1) That good and evil are linked together in human nature, and have often existed side by side in the world and in man to an extent hardly credible. We cannot distinguish them, and are therefore unable to part them; as in the parable 'they grow together unto the harvest:' it is only a rule of external decency by which society can divide them. Nor should we be right in inferring from the prevalence of any one vice or corruption that a state or individual was demoralized in their whole character. Not only has the corruption of the best been sometimes thought to be the worst, but it may be remarked that this very excess of evil has been the stimulus to good (compare Plato, Laws, where he says that in the most corrupt cities individuals are to be found beyond all praise). (2) It may be observed that evils which admit of degrees can seldom be rightly estimated, because under the same name actions of the most different degrees of culpability may be included. No charge is more easily set going than the imputation of secret wickedness (which cannot be either proved or disproved and often cannot be defined) when directed against a person of whom the world, or a section of it, is predisposed to think evil. And it is quite possible that the malignity of Greek scandal, aroused by some personal jealousy or party enmity, may have converted the innocent friendship of a great man for a noble youth into a connexion of another kind. Such accusations were brought against several of the leading men of Hellas, e.g. Cimon, Alcibiades, Critias, Demos thenes, Epaminondas: several of the Roman emperors were assailed by similar weapons which have been used even in our own day against statesmen of the highest character. (3) While we know that in this matter there is a great gulf fixed between Greek and Christian Ethics, yet, if we would do justice to the Greeks, we must also acknowledge that there was a greater outspokenness among them than among ourselves about the things which nature hides, and that the more frequent mention of such topics is not to be taken as the measure of the prevalence of offences, or as a proof of the general corruption of society. It is likely that every religion in the world has used words or practised rites in one age, which have become distasteful or repugnant to another. We cannot, though for different reasons, trust the representations either of Comedy or Satire; and still less of Christian Apologists. (4) We observe that at Thebes and Lacedemon the attachment of an elder friend to a beloved youth was often deemed to be a part of his education; and was encouraged by his parentsit was only shameful if it degenerated into licentiousness. Such we may believe to have been the tie which united Asophychus and Cephisodorus with the great Epaminondas in whose companionship they fell (Plutarch, Amat.; Athenaeus on the authority of Theopompus). (5) A small matter: there appears to be a difference of custom among the Greeks and among ourselves, as between ourselves and continental nations at the present time, in modes of salutation. We must not suspect evil in the hearty kiss or embrace of a male friend 'returning from the army at Potidaea' any more than in a similar salutation when practised by members of the same family. But those who make these admissions, and who regard, not without pity, the victims of such illusions in our own day, whose life has been blasted by them, may be none the less resolved that the natural and healthy instincts of mankind shall alone be tolerated (Greek); and that the lesson of manliness which we have inherited from our fathers shall not degenerate into sentimentalism or effeminacy. The possibility of an honourable connexion of this kind seems to have died out with Greek civilization. Among the Romans, and also among barbarians, such as the Celts and Persians, there is no trace of such attachments existing in any noble or virtuous form.
  and this alteration may be supported by the authority of Homer himself, who not only demolishes but literally outrages the proverb. For, after picturing Agamemnon as the most valiant of men, he makes Menelaus, who is but a fainthearted warrior, come unbidden (Iliad) to the banquet of Agamemnon, who is feasting and offering sacrifices, not the better to the worse, but the worse to the better.
  I rather fear, Socrates, said Aristodemus, lest this may still be my case; and that, like Menelaus in Homer, I shall be the inferior person, who
  'To the feasts of the wise unbidden goes.'
  he replied, in Homeric fashion, one or other of them may invent an excuse by the way (Iliad).
  This was the style of their conversation as they went along. Socrates dropped behind in a fit of abstraction, and desired Aristodemus, who was waiting, to go on before him. When he reached the house of Agathon he found the doors wide open, and a comical thing happened. A servant coming out met him, and led him at once into the banqueting-hall in which the guests were reclining, for the banquet was about to begin. Welcome, Aristodemus, said Agathon, as soon as he appearedyou are just in time to sup with us; if you come on any other matter put it off, and make one of us, as I was looking for you yesterday and meant to have asked you, if I could have found you. But what have you done with Socrates?
  And Acusilaus agrees with Hesiod. Thus numerous are the witnesses who acknowledge Love to be the eldest of the gods. And not only is he the eldest, he is also the source of the greatest benefits to us. For I know not any greater blessing to a young man who is beginning life than a virtuous lover, or to the lover than a beloved youth. For the principle which ought to be the guide of men who would nobly livethat principle, I say, neither kindred, nor honour, nor wealth, nor any other motive is able to implant so well as love. Of what am I speaking? Of the sense of honour and dishonour, without which neither states nor individuals ever do any good or great work. And I say that a lover who is detected in doing any dishonourable act, or submitting through cowardice when any dishonour is done to him by another, will be more pained at being detected by his beloved than at being seen by his father, or by his companions, or by any one else. The beloved too, when he is found in any disgraceful situation, has the same feeling about his lover. And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their loves (compare Rep.), they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other's side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger? The veriest coward would become an inspired hero, equal to the bravest, at such a time; Love would inspire him. That courage which, as Homer says, the god breathes into the souls of some heroes, Love of his own nature infuses into the lover.
  Love will make men dare to die for their belovedlove alone; and women as well as men. Of this, Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, is a monument to all Hellas; for she was willing to lay down her life on behalf of her husband, when no one else would, although he had a father and mother; but the tenderness of her love so far exceeded theirs, that she made them seem to be strangers in blood to their own son, and in name only related to him; and so noble did this action of hers appear to the gods, as well as to men, that among the many who have done virtuously she is one of the very few to whom, in admiration of her noble action, they have granted the privilege of returning alive to earth; such exceeding honour is paid by the gods to the devotion and virtue of love. But Orpheus, the son of Oeagrus, the harper, they sent empty away, and presented to him an apparition only of her whom he sought, but herself they would not give up, because he showed no spirit; he was only a harp-player, and did not dare like Alcestis to die for love, but was contriving how he might enter Hades alive; moreover, they afterwards caused him to suffer death at the hands of women, as the punishment of his cowardliness. Very different was the reward of the true love of Achilles towards his lover Patroclushis lover and not his love (the notion that Patroclus was the beloved one is a foolish error into which Aeschylus has fallen, for Achilles was surely the fairer of the two, fairer also than all the other heroes; and, as Homer informs us, he was still beardless, and younger far). And greatly as the gods honour the virtue of love, still the return of love on the part of the beloved to the lover is more admired and valued and rewarded by them, for the lover is more divine; because he is inspired by God. Now Achilles was quite aware, for he had been told by his mother, that he might avoid death and return home, and live to a good old age, if he abstained from slaying Hector. Nevertheless he gave his life to revenge his friend, and dared to die, not only in his defence, but after he was dead. Wherefore the gods honoured him even above Alcestis, and sent him to the Islands of the Blest. These are my reasons for affirming that Love is the eldest and noblest and mightiest of the gods; and the chiefest author and giver of virtue in life, and of happiness after death.
  This, or something like this, was the speech of Phaedrus; and some other speeches followed which Aristodemus did not remember; the next which he repeated was that of Pausanias. Phaedrus, he said, the argument has not been set before us, I think, quite in the right form;we should not be called upon to praise Love in such an indiscriminate manner. If there were only one Love, then what you said would be well enough; but since there are more Loves than one,should have begun by determining which of them was to be the theme of our praises. I will amend this defect; and first of all I will tell you which Love is deserving of praise, and then try to hymn the praiseworthy one in a manner worthy of him. For we all know that Love is inseparable from Aphrodite, and if there were only one Aphrodite there would be only one Love; but as there are two goddesses there must be two Loves. And am I not right in asserting that there are two goddesses? The elder one, having no mother, who is called the heavenly Aphroditeshe is the daughter of Uranus; the younger, who is the daughter of Zeus and Dioneher we call common; and the Love who is her fellow-worker is rightly named common, as the other love is called heavenly. All the gods ought to have praise given to them, but not without distinction of their natures; and therefore I must try to distinguish the characters of the two Loves. Now actions vary according to the manner of their performance. Take, for example, that which we are now doing, drinking, singing and talkingthese actions are not in themselves either good or evil, but they turn out in this or that way according to the mode of performing them; and when well done they are good, and when wrongly done they are evil; and in like manner not every love, but only that which has a noble purpose, is noble and worthy of praise. The Love who is the offspring of the common Aphrodite is essentially common, and has no discrimination, being such as the meaner sort of men feel, and is apt to be of women as well as of youths, and is of the body rather than of the soulthe most foolish beings are the objects of this love which desires only to gain an end, but never thinks of accomplishing the end nobly, and therefore does good and evil quite indiscriminately. The goddess who is his mother is far younger than the other, and she was born of the union of the male and female, and partakes of both. But the offspring of the heavenly Aphrodite is derived from a mother in whose birth the female has no part,she is from the male only; this is that love which is of youths, and the goddess being older, there is nothing of wantonness in her. Those who are inspired by this love turn to the male, and delight in him who is the more valiant and intelligent nature; any one may recognise the pure enthusiasts in the very character of their attachments. For they love not boys, but intelligent beings whose reason is beginning to be developed, much about the time at which their beards begin to grow. And in choosing young men to be their companions, they mean to be faithful to them, and pass their whole life in company with them, not to take them in their inexperience, and deceive them, and play the fool with them, or run away from one to another of them. But the love of young boys should be forbidden by law, because their future is uncertain; they may turn out good or bad, either in body or soul, and much noble enthusiasm may be thrown away upon them; in this matter the good are a law to themselves, and the coarser sort of lovers ought to be restrained by force; as we restrain or attempt to restrain them from fixing their affections on women of free birth. These are the persons who bring a reproach on love; and some have been led to deny the lawfulness of such attachments because they see the impropriety and evil of them; for surely nothing that is decorously and lawfully done can justly be censured. Now here and in Lacedaemon the rules about love are perplexing, but in most cities they are simple and easily intelligible; in Elis and Boeotia, and in countries having no gifts of eloquence, they are very straightforward; the law is simply in favour of these connexions, and no one, whether young or old, has anything to say to their discredit; the reason being, as I suppose, that they are men of few words in those parts, and therefore the lovers do not like the trouble of pleading their suit. In Ionia and other places, and generally in countries which are subject to the barbarians, the custom is held to be dishonourable; loves of youths share the evil repute in which philosophy and gymnastics are held, because they are inimical to tyranny; for the interests of rulers require that their subjects should be poor in spirit (compare Arist. Politics), and that there should be no strong bond of friendship or society among them, which love, above all other motives, is likely to inspire, as our Athenian tyrants learned by experience; for the love of Aristogeiton and the constancy of Harmodius had a strength which undid their power. And, therefore, the ill-repute into which these attachments have fallen is to be ascribed to the evil condition of those who make them to be ill-reputed; that is to say, to the self-seeking of the governors and the cowardice of the governed; on the other hand, the indiscriminate honour which is given to them in some countries is attri butable to the laziness of those who hold this opinion of them. In our own country a far better principle prevails, but, as I was saying, the explanation of it is rather perplexing. For, observe that open loves are held to be more honourable than secret ones, and that the love of the noblest and highest, even if their persons are less beautiful than others, is especially honourable. Consider, too, how great is the encouragement which all the world gives to the lover; neither is he supposed to be doing anything dishonourable; but if he succeeds he is praised, and if he fail he is blamed. And in the pursuit of his love the custom of mankind allows him to do many strange things, which philosophy would bitterly censure if they were done from any motive of interest, or wish for office or power. He may pray, and entreat, and supplicate, and swear, and lie on a mat at the door, and endure a slavery worse than that of any slavein any other case friends and enemies would be equally ready to prevent him, but now there is no friend who will be ashamed of him and admonish him, and no enemy will charge him with meanness or flattery; the actions of a lover have a grace which ennobles them; and custom has decided that they are highly commendable and that there no loss of character in them; and, what is strangest of all, he only may swear and forswear himself (so men say), and the gods will forgive his transgression, for there is no such thing as a lover's oath. Such is the entire liberty which gods and men have allowed the lover, according to the custom which prevails in our part of the world. From this point of view a man fairly argues that in Athens to love and to be loved is held to be a very honourable thing. But when parents forbid their sons to talk with their lovers, and place them under a tutor's care, who is appointed to see to these things, and their companions and equals cast in their teeth anything of the sort which they may observe, and their elders refuse to silence the reprovers and do not rebuke themany one who reflects on all this will, on the contrary, think that we hold these practices to be most disgraceful. But, as I was saying at first, the truth as I imagine is, that whether such practices are honourable or whether they are dishonourable is not a simple question; they are honourable to him who follows them honourably, dishonourable to him who follows them dishonourably. There is dishonour in yielding to the evil, or in an evil manner; but there is honour in yielding to the good, or in an honourable manner. Evil is the vulgar lover who loves the body rather than the soul, inasmuch as he is not even stable, because he loves a thing which is in itself unstable, and therefore when the bloom of youth which he was desiring is over, he takes wing and flies away, in spite of all his words and promises; whereas the love of the noble disposition is life-long, for it becomes one with the everlasting. The custom of our country would have both of them proven well and truly, and would have us yield to the one sort of lover and avoid the other, and therefore encourages some to pursue, and others to fly; testing both the lover and beloved in contests and trials, until they show to which of the two classes they respectively belong. And this is the reason why, in the first place, a hasty attachment is held to be dishonourable, because time is the true test of this as of most other things; and secondly there is a dishonour in being overcome by the love of money, or of wealth, or of political power, whether a man is frightened into surrender by the loss of them, or, having experienced the benefits of money and political corruption, is unable to rise above the seductions of them. For none of these things are of a permanent or lasting nature; not to mention that no generous friendship ever sprang from them. There remains, then, only one way of honourable attachment which custom allows in the beloved, and this is the way of virtue; for as we admitted that any service which the lover does to him is not to be accounted flattery or a dishonour to himself, so the beloved has one way only of voluntary service which is not dishonourable, and this is virtuous service.
  Aristophanes professed to open another vein of discourse; he had a mind to praise Love in another way, unlike that either of Pausanias or Eryximachus. Mankind, he said, judging by their neglect of him, have never, as I think, at all understood the power of Love. For if they had understood him they would surely have built noble temples and altars, and offered solemn sacrifices in his honour; but this is not done, and most certainly ought to be done: since of all the gods he is the best friend of men, the helper and the healer of the ills which are the great impediment to the happiness of the race. I will try to describe his power to you, and you shall teach the rest of the world what I am teaching you. In the first place, let me treat of the nature of man and what has happened to it; for the original human nature was not like the present, but different. The sexes were not two as they are now, but originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the two, having a name corresponding to this double nature, which had once a real existence, but is now lost, and the word 'Androgynous' is only preserved as a term of reproach. In the second place, the primeval man was round, his back and sides forming a circle; and he had four hands and four feet, one head with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members, and the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast. Now the sexes were three, and such as I have described them; because the sun, moon, and earth are three; and the man was originally the child of the sun, the woman of the earth, and the man-woman of the moon, which is made up of sun and earth, and they were all round and moved round and round like their parents. Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.' He spoke and cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, or as you might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them one after another, he bade Apollo give the face and the half of the neck a turn in order that the man might contemplate the section of himself: he would thus learn a lesson of humility. Apollo was also bidden to heal their wounds and compose their forms. So he gave a turn to the face and pulled the skin from the sides all over that which in our language is called the belly, like the purses which draw in, and he made one mouth at the centre, which he fastened in a knot (the same which is called the navel); he also moulded the breast and took out most of the wrinkles, much as a shoemaker might smooth leather upon a last; he left a few, however, in the region of the belly and navel, as a memorial of the primeval state. After the division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman as we call them,being the sections of entire men or women,and clung to that. They were being destroyed, when Zeus in pity of them invented a new plan: he turned the parts of generation round to the front, for this had not been always their position, and they sowed the seed no longer as hitherto like grasshoppers in the ground, but in one another; and after the transposition the male generated in the female in order that by the mutual embraces of man and woman they might breed, and the race might continue; or if man came to man they might be satisfied, and rest, and go their ways to the business of life: so ancient is the desire of one another which is implanted in us, reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of man. Each of us when separated, having one side only, like a flat fish, is but the indenture of a man, and he is always looking for his other half. Men who are a section of that double nature which was once called Androgynous are lovers of women; adulterers are generally of this breed, and also adulterous women who lust after men: the women who are a section of the woman do not care for men, but have female attachments; the female companions are of this sort. But they who are a section of the male follow the male, and while they are young, being slices of the original man, they hang about men and embrace them, and they are themselves the best of boys and youths, because they have the most manly nature. Some indeed assert that they are shameless, but this is not true; for they do not act thus from any want of shame, but because they are valiant and manly, and have a manly countenance, and they embrace that which is like them. And these when they grow up become our statesmen, and these only, which is a great proof of the truth of what I am saving. When they reach manhood they are lovers of youth, and are not naturally inclined to marry or beget children,if at all, they do so only in obedience to the law; but they are satisfied if they may be allowed to live with one another unwedded; and such a nature is prone to love and ready to return love, always embracing that which is akin to him. And when one of them meets with his other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment: these are the people who pass their whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they desire of one another. For the intense yearning which each of them has towards the other does not appear to be the desire of lover's intercourse, but of something else which the soul of either evidently desires and cannot tell, and of which she has only a dark and doubtful presentiment. Suppose Hephaestus, with his instruments, to come to the pair who are lying side by side and to say to them, 'What do you people want of one another?' they would be unable to explain. And suppose further, that when he saw their perplexity he said: 'Do you desire to be wholly one; always day and night to be in one another's company? for if this is what you desire, I am ready to melt you into one and let you grow together, so that being two you shall become one, and while you live live a common life as if you were a single man, and after your death in the world below still be one departed soul instead of twoI ask whether this is what you lovingly desire, and whether you are satisfied to attain this?'there is not a man of them who when he heard the proposal would deny or would not acknowledge that this meeting and melting into one another, this becoming one instead of two, was the very expression of his ancient need (compare Arist. Pol.). And the reason is that human nature was originally one and we were a whole, and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love. There was a time, I say, when we were one, but now because of the wickedness of mankind God has dispersed us, as the Arcadians were dispersed into villages by the Lacedaemonians (compare Arist. Pol.). And if we are not obedient to the gods, there is a danger that we shall be split up again and go about in basso-relievo, like the profile figures having only half a nose which are sculptured on monuments, and that we shall be like tallies. Wherefore let us exhort all men to piety, that we may avoid evil, and obtain the good, of which Love is to us the lord and minister; and let no one oppose himhe is the enemy of the gods who opposes him. For if we are friends of the God and at peace with him we shall find our own true loves, which rarely happens in this world at present. I am serious, and therefore I must beg Eryximachus not to make fun or to find any allusion in what I am saying to Pausanias and Agathon, who, as I suspect, are both of the manly nature, and belong to the class which I have been describing. But my words have a wider applicationthey include men and women everywhere; and I believe that if our loves were perfectly accomplished, and each one returning to his primeval nature had his original true love, then our race would be happy. And if this would be best of all, the best in the next degree and under present circumstances must be the nearest approach to such an union; and that will be the attainment of a congenial love. Wherefore, if we would praise him who has given to us the benefit, we must praise the god Love, who is our greatest benefactor, both leading us in this life back to our own nature, and giving us high hopes for the future, for he promises that if we are pious, he will restore us to our original state, and heal us and make us happy and blessed. This, Eryximachus, is my discourse of love, which, although different to yours, I must beg you to leave unassailed by the shafts of your ridicule, in order that each may have his turn; each, or rather either, for Agathon and Socrates are the only ones left.
  Indeed, I am not going to attack you, said Eryximachus, for I thought your speech charming, and did I not know that Agathon and Socrates are masters in the art of love, I should be really afraid that they would have nothing to say, after the world of things which have been said already. But, for all that, I am not without hopes.
  The previous speakers, instead of praising the god Love, or unfolding his nature, appear to have congratulated mankind on the benefits which he confers upon them. But I would rather praise the god first, and then speak of his gifts; this is always the right way of praising everything. May I say without impiety or offence, that of all the blessed gods he is the most blessed because he is the fairest and best? And he is the fairest: for, in the first place, he is the youngest, and of his youth he is himself the witness, fleeing out of the way of age, who is swift enough, swifter truly than most of us like:Love hates him and will not come near him; but youth and love live and move togetherlike to like, as the proverb says. Many things were said by Phaedrus about Love in which I agree with him; but I cannot agree that he is older than Iapetus and Kronos:not so; I maintain him to be the youngest of the gods, and youthful ever. The ancient doings among the gods of which Hesiod and Parmenides spoke, if the tradition of them be true, were done of Necessity and not of Love; had Love been in those days, there would have been no chaining or mutilation of the gods, or other violence, but peace and sweetness, as there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love began. Love is young and also tender; he ought to have a poet like Homer to describe his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, that she is a goddess and tender:
  'Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps, Not on the ground but on the heads of men:'
  Why, my dear friend, said Socrates, must not I or any one be in a strait who has to speak after he has heard such a rich and varied discourse? I am especially struck with the beauty of the concluding wordswho could listen to them without amazement? When I reflected on the immeasurable inferiority of my own powers, I was ready to run away for shame, if there had been a possibility of escape. For I was reminded of Gorgias, and at the end of his speech I fancied that Agathon was shaking at me the Gorginian or Gorgonian head of the great master of rhetoric, which was simply to turn me and my speech into stone, as Homer says (Odyssey), and strike me dumb. And then I perceived how foolish I had been in consenting to take my turn with you in praising love, and saying that I too was a master of the art, when I really had no conception how anything ought to be praised. For in my simplicity I imagined that the topics of praise should be true, and that this being presupposed, out of the true the speaker was to choose the best and set them forth in the best manner. And I felt quite proud, thinking that I knew the nature of true praise, and should speak well. Whereas I now see that the intention was to attri bute to Love every species of greatness and glory, whether really belonging to him or not, without regard to truth or falsehoodthat was no matter; for the original proposal seems to have been not that each of you should really praise Love, but only that you should appear to praise him. And so you attri bute to Love every imaginable form of praise which can be gathered anywhere; and you say that 'he is all this,' and 'the cause of all that,' making him appear the fairest and best of all to those who know him not, for you cannot impose upon those who know him. And a noble and solemn hymn of praise have you rehearsed. But as I misunderstood the nature of the praise when I said that I would take my turn, I must beg to be absolved from the promise which I made in ignorance, and which (as Euripides would say (Eurip. Hyppolytus)) was a promise of the lips and not of the mind. Farewell then to such a strain: for I do not praise in that way; no, indeed, I cannot. But if you like to hear the truth about love, I am ready to speak in my own manner, though I will not make myself ridiculous by entering into any rivalry with you. Say then, Phaedrus, whether you would like to have the truth about love, spoken in any words and in any order which may happen to come into my mind at the time. Will that be agreeable to you?
  Aristodemus said that Phaedrus and the company bid him speak in any manner which he thought best. Then, he added, let me have your permission first to ask Agathon a few more questions, in order that I may take his admissions as the premisses of my discourse.
  'Those who are pregnant in the body only, betake themselves to women and beget childrenthis is the character of their love; their offspring, as they hope, will preserve their memory and giving them the blessedness and immortality which they desire in the future. But souls which are pregnantfor there certainly are men who are more creative in their souls than in their bodiesconceive that which is proper for the soul to conceive or contain. And what are these conceptions?wisdom and virtue in general. And such creators are poets and all artists who are deserving of the name inventor. But the greatest and fairest sort of wisdom by far is that which is concerned with the ordering of states and families, and which is called temperance and justice. And he who in youth has the seed of these implanted in him and is himself inspired, when he comes to maturity desires to beget and generate. He wanders about seeking beauty that he may beget offspringfor in deformity he will beget nothingand naturally embraces the beautiful rather than the deformed body; above all when he finds a fair and noble and well-nurtured soul, he embraces the two in one person, and to such an one he is full of speech about virtue and the nature and pursuits of a good man; and he tries to educate him; and at the touch of the beautiful which is ever present to his memory, even when absent, he brings forth that which he had conceived long before, and in company with him tends that which he brings forth; and they are married by a far nearer tie and have a closer friendship than those who beget mortal children, for the children who are their common offspring are fairer and more immortal. Who, when he thinks of Homer and Hesiod and other great poets, would not rather have their children than ordinary human ones? Who would not emulate them in the creation of children such as theirs, which have preserved their memory and given them everlasting glory? Or who would not have such children as Lycurgus left behind him to be the saviours, not only of Lacedaemon, but of Hellas, as one may say? There is Solon, too, who is the revered father of Athenian laws; and many others there are in many other places, both among Hellenes and barbarians, who have given to the world many noble works, and have been the parents of virtue of every kind; and many temples have been raised in their honour for the sake of children such as theirs; which were never raised in honour of any one, for the sake of his mortal children.
  'These are the lesser mysteries of love, into which even you, Socrates, may enter; to the greater and more hidden ones which are the crown of these, and to which, if you pursue them in a right spirit, they will lead, I know not whether you will be able to attain. But I will do my utmost to inform you, and do you follow if you can. For he who would proceed aright in this matter should begin in youth to visit beautiful forms; and first, if he be guided by his instructor aright, to love one such form onlyout of that he should create fair thoughts; and soon he will of himself perceive that the beauty of one form is akin to the beauty of another; and then if beauty of form in general is his pursuit, how foolish would he be not to recognize that the beauty in every form is and the same! And when he perceives this he will abate his violent love of the one, which he will despise and deem a small thing, and will become a lover of all beautiful forms; in the next stage he will consider that the beauty of the mind is more honourable than the beauty of the outward form. So that if a virtuous soul have but a little comeliness, he will be content to love and tend him, and will search out and bring to the birth thoughts which may improve the young, until he is compelled to contemplate and see the beauty of institutions and laws, and to understand that the beauty of them all is of one family, and that personal beauty is a trifle; and after laws and institutions he will go on to the sciences, that he may see their beauty, being not like a servant in love with the beauty of one youth or man or institution, himself a slave mean and narrow-minded, but drawing towards and contemplating the vast sea of beauty, he will create many fair and noble thoughts and notions in boundless love of wisdom; until on that shore he grows and waxes strong, and at last the vision is revealed to him of a single science, which is the science of beauty everywhere. To this I will proceed; please to give me your very best attention:
  'The wise physician skilled our wounds to heal (from Pope's Homer, Il.)'
  shall prescribe and we will obey. What do you want?

Talks With Sri Aurobindo 1, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  But this is the dactylic six-foot line, the metre in which the epics of Homer
  and Virgil are written. It has a very fine movement which is most suitable
  he got his inspiration from Homer and Virgil whom he read a lot.
  largeness of vision, then Shelley does not have it. Homer, Shakespeare, the
  Ramayana and the Mahabhara have range. But neither Virgil nor Milton has
  he has sympathy with each and every character created. Homer put many
  good things into his Hector's mouth. But his sympathy was, if at all anywhere, on the side of Achilles.
  SRI AUROBINDO: What does it matter if there is no variety? Homer has written
  only on war and action. Can Tagore say that he is a greater poet than
  When you read Homer, you are Achilles living and moving and you feel you
  have become Achilles. That is what I mean by creativeness. On the other
  A poet need not have intellectual ideas to be great. Homer has no intellectual
  ideas. There are only one or two lines that contain a great thought in the first
  And you can't say that Homer is not a great poet. If you do, you'll have to ignore many poets of the past. When Nishikanto started writing, I said his poems were "vital", but he made great progress afterwards.
  NIRODBARAN: Some of his poems are even psychic.
  SRI AUROBINDO: Milton, Homer and everybody else.
  20 JANUARY 1940

Talks With Sri Aurobindo 2, #Talks With Sri Aurobindo, #unset, #Integral Yoga
  SRI AUROBINDO: Oh yes! You can see the influence of Homer, Virgil and
  Tasso in his writings.

The Act of Creation text, #The Act of Creation, #Arthur Koestler, #Psychology
  tinuity of the scale leading from the faint smile to Homeric laughter,
  confirmed by laboratory experiments. Electrical stimulation of the
  individualized and sophisticated forms; the roar of Homeric laughter is
  superseded by Archimedes's piercing cry or Kepler's holy ravings.
  and mythology. 'The recitation of the Homeric poems on the Pana-
  thanaea corresponds to the recitation elsewhere of the sacred texts in
  its use is still as frequent in the modern novel as it was in the Homeric
  epos. In the ancient forms of oral recital it was supplemented by
  recitation of the Homeric poems on the Panathanaea. On the other
  hand, we do experience a common kind of 'waking trance' when we
  Somewhere around 600 B.C. the Homeric epics were consolidated
  in their final version, disguised in written symbols, and folded into
  Ulysses also knows more than Homer's Odysseus; and in some respects
  this progress in knowledge, too, is of a cumulative order.
  sculptural arts has been unsurpassed; it is seriously lacking in Homer,
  even when he refers to the sea or to the famous garden of Alcinous,
  scape but the seats of Scylla and Charybdis. To Homer, a storm at sea
  signified the anger of Poseidon; to Mr. Babitt it signifies the majesty of

Theaetetus, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  Theaetetus replies, that knowledge is what he learns of Theodorus, i.e. geometry and arithmetic; and that there are other kinds of knowledgeshoemaking, carpentering, and the like. But Socrates rejoins, that this answer contains too much and also too little. For although Theaetetus has enumerated several kinds of knowledge, he has not explained the common nature of them; as if he had been asked, 'What is clay?' and instead of saying 'Clay is moistened earth,' he had answered, 'There is one clay of image-makers, another of potters, another of oven-makers.' Theaetetus at once divines that Socrates means him to extend to all kinds of knowledge the same process of generalization which he has already learned to apply to arithmetic. For he has discovered a division of numbers into square numbers, 4, 9, 16, etc., which are composed of equal factors, and represent figures which have equal sides, and oblong numbers, 3, 5, 6, 7, etc., which are composed of unequal factors, and represent figures which have unequal sides. But he has never succeeded in attaining a similar conception of knowledge, though he has often tried; and, when this and similar questions were brought to him from Socrates, has been sorely distressed by them. Socrates explains to him that he is in labour. For men as well as women have pangs of labour; and both at times require the assistance of midwives. And he, Socrates, is a midwife, although this is a secret; he has inherited the art from his mother bold and bluff, and he ushers into light, not children, but the thoughts of men. Like the midwives, who are 'past bearing children,' he too can have no offspringthe God will not allow him to bring anything into the world of his own. He also reminds Theaetetus that the midwives are or ought to be the only matchmakers (this is the preparation for a biting jest); for those who reap the fruit are most likely to know on what soil the plants will grow. But respectable midwives avoid this department of practicethey do not want to be called procuresses. There are some other differences between the two sorts of pregnancy. For women do not bring into the world at one time real children and at another time idols which are with difficulty distinguished from them. 'At first,' says Socrates in his character of the man-midwife, 'my patients are barren and stolid, but after a while they "round apace," if the gods are propitious to them; and this is due not to me but to themselves; I and the god only assist in bringing their ideas to the birth. Many of them have left me too soon, and the result has been that they have produced abortions; or when I have delivered them of children they have lost them by an ill bringing up, and have ended by seeing themselves, as others see them, to be great fools. Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, is one of these, and there have been others. The truants often return to me and beg to be taken back; and then, if my familiar allows me, which is not always the case, I receive them, and they begin to grow again. There come to me also those who have nothing in them, and have no need of my art; and I am their matchmaker (see above), and marry them to Prodicus or some other inspired sage who is likely to suit them. I tell you this long story because I suspect that you are in labour. Come then to me, who am a midwife, and the son of a midwife, and I will deliver you. And do not bite me, as the women do, if I abstract your first-born; for I am acting out of good-will towards you; the God who is within me is the friend of man, though he will not allow me to dissemble the truth. Once more then, Theaetetus, I repeat my old question"What is knowledge?" Take courage, and by the help of God you will discover an answer.' 'My answer is, that knowledge is perception.' 'That is the theory of Protagoras, who has another way of expressing the same thing when he says, "Man is the measure of all things." He was a very wise man, and we should try to understand him. In order to illustrate his meaning let me suppose that there is the same wind blowing in our faces, and one of us may be hot and the other cold. How is this? Protagoras will reply that the wind is hot to him who is cold, cold to him who is hot. And "is" means "appears," and when you say "appears to him," that means "he feels." Thus feeling, appearance, perception, coincide with being. I suspect, however, that this was only a "facon de parler," by which he imposed on the common herd like you and me; he told "the truth" (in allusion to the title of his book, which was called "The Truth") in secret to his disciples. For he was really a votary of that famous philosophy in which all things are said to be relative; nothing is great or small, or heavy or light, or one, but all is in motion and mixture and transition and flux and generation, not "being," as we ignorantly affirm, but "becoming." This has been the doctrine, not of Protagoras only, but of all philosophers, with the single exception of Parmenides; Empedocles, Heracleitus, and others, and all the poets, with Epicharmus, the king of Comedy, and Homer, the king of Tragedy, at their head, have said the same; the latter has these words
  "Ocean, whence the gods sprang, and mother Tethys."
  'But I ought not to conceal from you that there is a serious objection which may be urged against this doctrine of Protagoras. For there are states, such as madness and dreaming, in which perception is false; and half our life is spent in dreaming; and who can say that at this instant we are not dreaming? Even the fancies of madmen are real at the time. But if knowledge is perception, how can we distinguish between the true and the false in such cases? Having stated the objection, I will now state the answer. Protagoras would deny the continuity of phenomena; he would say that what is different is entirely different, and whether active or passive has a different power. There are infinite agents and patients in the world, and these produce in every combination of them a different perception. Take myself as an instance:Socrates may be ill or he may be well,and remember that Socrates, with all his accidents, is spoken of. The wine which I drink when I am well is pleasant to me, but the same wine is unpleasant to me when I am ill. And there is nothing else from which I can receive the same impression, nor can another receive the same impression from the wine. Neither can I and the object of sense become separately what we become together. For the one in becoming is relative to the other, but they have no other relation; and the combination of them is absolute at each moment. (In modern language, the act of sensation is really indivisible, though capable of a mental analysis into subject and object.) My sensation alone is true, and true to me only. And therefore, as Protagoras says, "To myself I am the judge of what is and what is not." Thus the flux of Homer and Heracleitus, the great Protagorean saying that "Man is the measure of all things," the doctrine of Theaetetus that "Knowledge is perception," have all the same meaning. And this is thy new-born child, which by my art I have brought to light; and you must not be angry if instead of rearing your infant we expose him.'
  'Theaetetus will not be angry,' says Theodorus; 'he is very good-natured. But I should like to know, Socrates, whether you mean to say that all this is untrue?'
  The waxen block in the heart of a man's soul, as I may say in the words of Homer, who played upon the words ker and keros, may be smooth and deep, and large enough, and then the signs are clearly marked and lasting, and do not get confused. But in the 'hairy heart,' as the all-wise poet sings, when the wax is muddy or hard or moist, there is a corresponding confusion and want of retentiveness; in the muddy and impure there is indistinctness, and still more in the hard, for there the impressions have no depth of wax, and in the moist they are too soon effaced. Yet greater is the indistinctness when they are all jolted together in a little soul, which is narrow and has no room. These are the sort of natures which have false opinion; from stupidity they see and hear and think amiss; and this is falsehood and ignorance. Error, then, is a confusion of thought and sense.
  Theaetetus is delighted with this explanation. But Socrates has no sooner found the new solution than he sinks into a fit of despondency. For an objection occurs to him:May there not be errors where there is no confusion of mind and sense? e.g. in numbers. No one can confuse the man whom he has in his thoughts with the horse which he has in his thoughts, but he may err in the addition of five and seven. And observe that these are purely mental conceptions. Thus we are involved once more in the dilemma of saying, either that there is no such thing as false opinion, or that a man knows what he does not know.
  Neither must we forget that our idea of space, like our other ideas, has a history. The Homeric poems contain no word for it; even the later Greek philosophy has not the Kantian notion of space, but only the definite 'place' or 'the infinite.' To Plato, in the Timaeus, it is known only as the 'nurse of generation.' When therefore we speak of the necessity of our ideas of space we must remember that this is a necessity which has grown up with the growth of the human mind, and has been made by ourselves. We can free ourselves from the perplexities which are involved in it by ascending to a time in which they did not as yet exist. And when space or time are described as 'a priori forms or intuitions added to the matter given in sensation,' we should consider that such expressions belong really to the 'pre-historic study' of philosophy, i.e. to the eighteenth century, when men sought to explain the human mind without regard to history or language or the social nature of man.
  In every act of sense there is a latent perception of space, of which we only become conscious when objects are withdrawn from it. There are various ways in which we may trace the connexion between them. We may think of space as unresisting matter, and of matter as divided into objects; or of objects again as formed by abstraction into a collective notion of matter, and of matter as rarefied into space. And motion may be conceived as the union of there and not there in space, and force as the materializing or solidification of motion. Space again is the individual and universal in one; or, in other words, a perception and also a conception. So easily do what are sometimes called our simple ideas pass into one another, and differences of kind resolve themselves into differences of degree.
  Within or behind space there is another abstraction in many respects similar to ittime, the form of the inward, as space is the form of the outward. As we cannot think of outward objects of sense or of outward sensations without space, so neither can we think of a succession of sensations without time. It is the vacancy of thoughts or sensations, as space is the void of outward objects, and we can no more imagine the mind without the one than the world without the other. It is to arithmetic what space is to geometry; or, more strictly, arithmetic may be said to be equally applicable to both. It is defined in our minds, partly by the analogy of space and partly by the recollection of events which have happened to us, or the consciousness of feelings which we are experiencing. Like space, it is without limit, for whatever beginning or end of time we fix, there is a beginning and end before them, and so on without end. We speak of a past, present, and future, and again the analogy of space assists us in conceiving of them as coexistent. When the limit of time is removed there arises in our minds the idea of eternity, which at first, like time itself, is only negative, but gradually, when connected with the world and the divine nature, like the other negative infinity of space, becomes positive. Whether time is prior to the mind and to experience, or coeval with them, is (like the parallel question about space) unmeaning. Like space it has been realized gradually: in the Homeric poems, or even in the Hesiodic cosmogony, there is no more notion of time than of space. The conception of being is more general than either, and might therefore with greater plausibility be affirmed to be a condition or quality of the mind. The a priori intuitions of Kant would have been as unintelligible to Plato as his a priori synthetical propositions to Aristotle. The philosopher of Konigsberg supposed himself to be analyzing a necessary mode of thought: he was not aware that he was dealing with a mere abstraction. But now that we are able to trace the gradual developement of ideas through religion, through language, through abstractions, why should we interpose the fiction of time between ourselves and realities? Why should we single out one of these abstractions to be the a priori condition of all the others? It comes last and not first in the order of our thoughts, and is not the condition precedent of them, but the last generalization of them. Nor can any principle be imagined more suicidal to philosophy than to assume that all the truth which we are capable of attaining is seen only through an unreal medium. If all that exists in time is illusion, we may well ask with Plato, 'What becomes of the mind?'
  Leaving the a priori conditions of sensation we may proceed to consider acts of sense. These admit of various degrees of duration or intensity; they admit also of a greater or less extension from one object, which is perceived directly, to many which are perceived indirectly or in a less degree, and to the various associations of the object which are latent in the mind. In general the greater the intension the less the extension of them. The simplest sensation implies some relation of objects to one another, some position in space, some relation to a previous or subsequent sensation. The acts of seeing and hearing may be almost unconscious and may pass away unnoted; they may also leave an impression behind them or power of recalling them. If, after seeing an object we shut our eyes, the object remains dimly seen in the same or about the same place, but with form and lineaments half filled up. This is the simplest act of memory. And as we cannot see one thing without at the same time seeing another, different objects hang together in recollection, and when we call for one the other quickly follows. To think of the place in which we have last seen a thing is often the best way of recalling it to the mind. Hence memory is dependent on association. The act of recollection may be compared to the sight of an object at a great distance which we have previously seen near and seek to bring near to us in thought. Memory is to sense as dreaming is to waking; and like dreaming has a wayward and uncertain power of recalling impressions from the past.
  SOCRATES: I am about to speak of a high argument, in which all things are said to be relative; you cannot rightly call anything by any name, such as great or small, heavy or light, for the great will be small and the heavy lightthere is no single thing or quality, but out of motion and change and admixture all things are becoming relatively to one another, which 'becoming' is by us incorrectly called being, but is really becoming, for nothing ever is, but all things are becoming. Summon all philosophersProtagoras, Heracleitus, Empedocles, and the rest of them, one after another, and with the exception of Parmenides they will agree with you in this. Summon the great masters of either kind of poetryEpicharmus, the prince of Comedy, and Homer of Tragedy; when the latter sings of
  'Ocean whence sprang the gods, and mother Tethys,'
  SOCRATES: And who could take up arms against such a great army having Homer for its general, and not appear ridiculous? (Compare Cratylus.)
  THEAETETUS: Who indeed, Socrates?
  SOCRATES: I may add, that breathless calm, stillness and the like waste and impair, while wind and storm preserve; and the palmary argument of all, which I strongly urge, is the golden chain in Homer, by which he means the sun, thereby indicating that so long as the sun and the heavens go round in their orbits, all things human and divine are and are preserved, but if they were chained up and their motions ceased, then all things would be destroyed, and, as the saying is, turned upside down.
  THEAETETUS: I believe, Socrates, that you have truly explained his meaning.
  SOCRATES: Then you were quite right in affirming that knowledge is only perception; and the meaning turns out to be the same, whether with Homer and Heracleitus, and all that company, you say that all is motion and flux, or with the great sage Protagoras, that man is the measure of all things; or with Theaetetus, that, given these premises, perception is knowledge. Am I not right, Theaetetus, and is not this your new-born child, of which I have delivered you? What say you?
  THEAETETUS: I cannot but agree, Socrates.
  THEODORUS: Yes, indeed, Socrates, thousands and tens of thousands, as Homer says, who give me a world of trouble.
  SOCRATES: Well, but are we to assert that what you think is true to you and false to the ten thousand others?
  THEODORUS: Certainly we are. About these speculations of Heracleitus, which, as you say, are as old as Homer, or even older still, the Ephesians themselves, who profess to know them, are downright mad, and you cannot talk with them on the subject. For, in accordance with their text-books, they are always in motion; but as for dwelling upon an argument or a question, and quietly asking and answering in turn, they can no more do so than they can fly; or rather, the determination of these fellows not to have a particle of rest in them is more than the utmost powers of negation can express. If you ask any of them a question, he will produce, as from a quiver, sayings brief and dark, and shoot them at you; and if you inquire the reason of what he has said, you will be hit by some other new-fangled word, and will make no way with any of them, nor they with one another; their great care is, not to allow of any settled principle either in their arguments or in their minds, conceiving, as I imagine, that any such principle would be stationary; for they are at war with the stationary, and do what they can to drive it out everywhere.
  SOCRATES: I suppose, Theodorus, that you have only seen them when they were fighting, and have never stayed with them in time of peace, for they are no friends of yours; and their peace doctrines are only communicated by them at leisure, as I imagine, to those disciples of theirs whom they want to make like themselves.
  SOCRATES: My reason is that I have a kind of reverence; not so much for Melissus and the others, who say that 'All is one and at rest,' as for the great leader himself, Parmenides, venerable and awful, as in Homeric language he may be called;him I should be ashamed to approach in a spirit unworthy of him. I met him when he was an old man, and I was a mere youth, and he appeared to me to have a glorious depth of mind. And I am afraid that we may not understand his words, and may be still further from understanding his meaning; above all I fear that the nature of knowledge, which is the main subject of our discussion, may be thrust out of sight by the unbidden guests who will come pouring in upon our feast of discourse, if we let them inbesides, the question which is now stirring is of immense extent, and will be treated unfairly if only considered by the way; or if treated adequately and at length, will put into the shade the other question of knowledge. Neither the one nor the other can be allowed; but I must try by my art of midwifery to deliver Theaetetus of his conceptions about knowledge.
  THEAETETUS: Very well; do so if you will.
  SOCRATES: And the origin of truth and error is as follows:When the wax in the soul of any one is deep and abundant, and smooth and perfectly tempered, then the impressions which pass through the senses and sink into the heart of the soul, as Homer says in a parable, meaning to indicate the likeness of the soul to wax (Kerh Kerhos); these, I say, being pure and clear, and having a sufficient depth of wax, are also lasting, and minds, such as these, easily learn and easily retain, and are not liable to confusion, but have true thoughts, for they have plenty of room, and having clear impressions of things, as we term them, quickly distribute them into their proper places on the block. And such men are called wise. Do you agree?
  THEAETETUS: Entirely.

The Aleph, #unset, #Anonymous, #Various
  "From any angle, a greatly interesting stanza," he said, giving his verdict. "The opening line wins the applause of the professor, the academician, and the Hellenist -- to say nothing of the would-be scholar, a considerable sector of the public. The second flows from Homer to Hesiod (generous homage, at the very outset, to the father of didactic poetry), not without rejuvenating a process whose roots go back to Scripture -- enumeration, congeries, conglomeration. The third -- baroque? decadent? example of the cult of pure form? -- consists of two equal hemistichs. The fourth, frankly bilingual, assures me the unstinted backing of all minds sensitive to the pleasures of sheer fun. I should, in all fairness, speak of the novel rhyme in lines two and four, and of the erudition that allows me -- without a hint of pedantry! -- to cram into four lines three learned allusions covering thirty centuries packed with literature -- first to the Odyssey, second to Works and Days, and third to the immortal bagatelle bequathed us by the frolicking pen of the Savoyard, Xavier de Maistre. Once more I've come to realise that modern art demands the balm of laughter, the scherzo. Decidedly, Goldoni holds the stage!"
  He read me many other stanzas, each of which also won his own approval and elicited his lengthy explications. There was nothing remarkable about them. I did not even find them any worse than the first one. Application, resignation, and chance had gone into the writing; I saw, however, that Daneri's real work lay not in the poetry but in his invention of reasons why the poetry should be admired. Of course, this second phase of his effort modified the writing in his eyes, though not in the eyes of others. Daneri's style of delivery was extravagant, but the deadly drone of his metric regularity tended to tone down and to dull that extravagance.

The Book of the Prophet Isaiah, #The Bible, #Anonymous, #Various
  10 Yea, ten acres of vineyard shall yield one bath, and the seed of an Homer shall yield an ephah.
  11 Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink;


--- Overview of noun homer

The noun homer has 5 senses (first 2 from tagged texts)
1. (12) homer, home run ::: (a base hit on which the batter scores a run)
2. (1) Homer ::: (ancient Greek epic poet who is believed to have written the Iliad and the Odyssey (circa 850 BC))
3. homer, kor ::: (an ancient Hebrew unit of capacity equal to 10 baths or 10 ephahs)
4. Homer, Winslow Homer ::: (United States painter best known for his seascapes (1836-1910))
5. homing pigeon, homer ::: (pigeon trained to return home)

--- Overview of verb homer

The verb homer has 1 sense (no senses from tagged texts)
1. homer ::: (hit a home run)

--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun homer

5 senses of homer                          

Sense 1
homer, home run
   => base hit, safety
     => hit
       => feat, effort, exploit
         => accomplishment, achievement
           => action
             => act, deed, human action, human activity
               => event
                 => psychological feature
                   => abstraction, abstract entity
                     => entity

Sense 2
   INSTANCE OF=> poet
     => writer, author
       => communicator
         => person, individual, someone, somebody, mortal, soul
           => organism, being
             => living thing, animate thing
               => whole, unit
                 => object, physical object
                   => physical entity
                     => entity
           => causal agent, cause, causal agency
             => physical entity
               => entity

Sense 3
homer, kor
   => volume unit, capacity unit, capacity measure, cubage unit, cubic measure, cubic content unit, displacement unit, cubature unit
     => unit of measurement, unit
       => definite quantity
         => measure, quantity, amount
           => abstraction, abstract entity
             => entity

Sense 4
Homer, Winslow Homer
   INSTANCE OF=> painter
     => artist, creative person
       => creator
         => person, individual, someone, somebody, mortal, soul
           => organism, being
             => living thing, animate thing
               => whole, unit
                 => object, physical object
                   => physical entity
                     => entity
           => causal agent, cause, causal agency
             => physical entity
               => entity

Sense 5
homing pigeon, homer
   => domestic pigeon
     => pigeon
       => columbiform bird
         => gallinaceous bird, gallinacean
           => bird
             => vertebrate, craniate
               => chordate
                 => animal, animate being, beast, brute, creature, fauna
                   => organism, being
                     => living thing, animate thing
                       => whole, unit
                         => object, physical object
                           => physical entity
                             => entity

--- Hyponyms of noun homer

2 of 5 senses of homer                        

Sense 1
homer, home run
   => solo homer, solo blast

Sense 5
homing pigeon, homer
   => carrier pigeon

--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun homer

5 senses of homer                          

Sense 1
homer, home run
   => base hit, safety

Sense 2
   INSTANCE OF=> poet

Sense 3
homer, kor
   => volume unit, capacity unit, capacity measure, cubage unit, cubic measure, cubic content unit, displacement unit, cubature unit

Sense 4
Homer, Winslow Homer
   INSTANCE OF=> painter

Sense 5
homing pigeon, homer
   => domestic pigeon

--- Coordinate Terms (sisters) of noun homer

5 senses of homer                          

Sense 1
homer, home run
  -> base hit, safety
   => homer, home run
   => single, bingle
   => double, two-base hit, two-bagger, two-baser
   => triple, three-base hit, three-bagger

Sense 2
  -> poet
   => bard
   => elegist
   => odist
   => poetess
   => poet laureate
   => poet laureate
   => sonneteer
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