text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"Thus the Ideas, as well as Children, of our youth, often die before us: And our Minds represent to us those Tombs, to which we are approaching; where though the Brass and Marble remain, yet the Inscriptions are effaced by time, and the Imagery moulders away. The pictures drawn in our Minds, are laid in fading Colours; and if not sometimes refreshed, vanish and disappear. How much the Constitution of our Bodies, and the make of our animal Spirits, are concerned in this; and whether the Temper of the Brain make this difference, that in some it retains the Characters drawn on it like Marble, in others like Free-stone, and in others little better than Sand, I shall not here enquire, though it may seem probable, that the Constitution of the Body does sometimes influence the Memory; since we oftentimes find a Disease quite strip the Mind of all its Ideas, and the flames of a Fever, in a few days, calcine all those Images to dust and confusion, which seem'd to be as lasting, as if graved in Marble.
(II.x.5)",2012-01-30 20:00:58 UTC,"""I shall not here enquire, though it may seem probable, that the Constitution of the Body does sometimes influence the Memory; since we oftentimes find a Disease quite strip the Mind of all its Ideas, and the flames of a Fever, in a few days, calcine all those Images to dust and confusion, which seem'd to be as lasting, as if graved in Marble.""",2003-09-15 00:00:00 UTC,II.x.5,"",2012-01-28,Impressions and Writing,"•This is a metaphorically rich chapter! Even more entries follow this paragraph!
• Calcine and engraving? Is this a mixed metaphor? Does this make sense? Yes, it looks like it... Marble can be calcined. But then, why the as if?
•OED gives for calcine: ""1. v.t. a Reduce by roasting or burning to quicklime or a similar friable substance or powder""
","Reading; found again, reading P. B. Wood, “Hume, Reid, and the Science of Mind” in Hume and Hume’s Connexions, ed. M.A. Stewart and J.P. Wright (University Park: The Pennsylvania State UP, 1994), 130.",9966,3866
"Now, whether we observe it or no, continued my father, in every sound man's head, there is a regular succession of ideas of one sort or other, which follow each other in train just like--A train of artillery? said my uncle Toby.--A train of a fiddle stick!--quoth my father,-- which follow and succeed one another in our minds at certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn turned round by the heat of a candle.--I declare, quoth my uncle Toby, mine are like a smoak-jack. --Then, brother Toby, I have nothing more to say to you upon the subject, said my father.
(pp. 80-1; Norton, 139)",2011-09-23 19:49:07 UTC,"Ideas ""follow and succeed one another in our minds at certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn turned round by the heat of a candle.""",2005-09-12 00:00:00 UTC,"Vol. 3, Chapter 18",Train of Ideas,2008-10-07,Optics,"",Searching in HDIS (Prose),13746,5088
"'Unhappy Leonora (said she) how is thy poor unwary Heart misled? Whither am I come? The false deluding Lights of an imaginary Flame, have led me, a poor benighted Victim, to a real Fire. I burn and am consumed with hopeless Love; those Beams in whose soft temperate warmth I wanton'd heretofore, now flash destruction to my Soul, my Treacherous greedy Eyes have suck'd the glaring Light, they have united all its Rays, and, like a burning-Glass, Convey'd the pointed Meteor to-my Heart--Ah! Aurelian, how quickly hast thou Conquer'd, and, how quickly mine thou Forsake.--Oh Happy (to me unfortunately Happy) Juliana!--I am to be the Subject of thy Triumph --To thee Aurelian comes laden with the Tribute of my Heart and Glories in the Oblation of his broken Vows.--What then is Aurelian False!--False! alass, I know not what I say; How can he be False, or True, or any Thing to me? What Promises did he ere make or I receive? Sure I dream, or I am mad, and fansie it to be Love; Foolish Girl, recal thy banish'd Reason.--Ah! would it were no more, would I could rave, sure that would give me Ease, and rob me of the Sense of Pain; at least, among my wandring Thoughts, I should at sometime light upon Aurelian, and fansie him to be mine; kind Madness would flatter my poor feeble Wishes, and sometimes tell me Aurelian is not lost--not irrecoverably--not for ever lost.'
(pp. 113-4)",2013-06-18 16:33:20 UTC,"""I burn and am consumed with hopeless Love; those Beams in whose soft temperate warmth I wanton'd heretofore, now flash destruction to my Soul, my Treacherous greedy Eyes have suck'd the glaring Light, they have united all its Rays, and, like a burning-Glass, Convey'd the pointed Meteor to-my Heart.""",2013-06-18 16:33:20 UTC,"","",,Mirror,"",C-H Lion,20945,7475