ellauri072.html on line 170: “But that’s what he said when he was candid in interviews,” Hart said, “that he wanted to put an end to his life in the Great Dismal Swamp. He went in with his street clothes, a little satchel, no food or gear. He was rescued by a couple of guys in a boat who were going down the canal [to pick up some duck hunters].”
ellauri095.html on line 55: Hopkins did live such a life, but the windhover reminded him of Jesus’ great achievements after Nazareth. The windhover “stirred” his desire to become a great knight of faith, one of those who imitate not only the constraint but also the “achieve of, the mastery of” this great chevalier. The “ecstasy” of the windhover recalls Hopkins’s initial desire in “Il Mystico” to be lifted up on “Spirit’s wings” so “that I may drink that ecstasy/Which to pure souls alone may be.” Ultimately, Hopkins became aware that he had been hiding from the emotional risks of total commitment to becoming a “pure” soul. The phrase “hiding” thus suggests not only hiding from the world or from worldly ambition but also hiding from God.
ellauri095.html on line 528: Hopkins eventually began to be critical of mere love of detail, however––“that kind of thought which runs upon the concrete and the particular, which disintegrates and drops toward atomism in some shape or other,” he wrote in his journal––and he became increasingly aware of the importance of religion as the ultimate source of unity.
ellauri106.html on line 533: That imagined past included the old left and its heroic narrative of collective emancipation, which, particularly after the revelations of Stalinist atrocities, no longer seemed enticing. Instead, American ideology turned on the “romantic” belief that the nation had, in effect, already discovered an ideal social order, “that progress would be more or less continuously achieved, that improvement was likely”.
ellauri107.html on line 191: . . . Hawthorne liked [Melville’s novel Typee], observing [in 1846] that . . . Melville has “that freedom of view—it would be too harsh to call it laxity of principle—which renders him tolerant of codes of morals that may be little in accordance with our own; a spirit proper enough to a young and adventurous sailor . . .”
ellauri155.html on line 731: In the Treatise, as was noted earlier, Hume argues that one of the reasons “why the doctrine of liberty [of indifference] has generally been better receiv’d in the world, than its antagonist [the doctrine of necessity], proceeds from religion, which has been very unnecessarily interested in this question” (T 2.3.2.3/409). He goes on to argue “that the doctrine of necessity, according to my explication of it, is not only innocent, but even advantageous to religion and morality”. In the final passages of the Enquiry discussion of liberty and necessity (EU 8.32–6/99–103) – passages which do not appear in the original Treatise discussion – Hume makes it plain exactly how his necessitarian principles have “dangerous consequences for religion”.
ellauri155.html on line 787: Calvin even demonstrated his commitment to this truth in his placement of his teaching on predestination in The Institutes. In the final edition, he moved his section on predestination from the beginning of his work to a place following his teaching on redemption, in effect suggesting “that predestination is a doctrine best understood by believers after they come to know the redemptive work of Jesus Christ applied by the Holy Spirit.”
ellauri155.html on line 795: What was Calvin’s answer? He reminds his readers what the predestinated are predestined to do! He points out what the Apostle Paul said in Ephesians 1:4, where he reminds us that the end for which we are elected is “that we should be holy, and without blame before him.” “If the end of election is holiness of life, it ought to arouse and stimulate us strenuously to aspire to it, instead of serving as a pretext for sloth.” He develops how predestination should lead us to fear God all the more, and consequently should both comfort us and spur us on even in the worst of times to greater holiness.
ellauri300.html on line 884: “Yes,” she said, “that is the price.”
ellauri323.html on line 152: “I think,” she resumed in a slow, meditative voice, “that you are, with the possible exception of a Mr. Edelweiss, THE most awful snob I have ever met.”
xxx/ellauri103.html on line 326: “Can you believe,” Shriver asked at the beginning of her speech, “that these students were so sensitive about the wearing of sombreros?”
xxx/ellauri127.html on line 132: Dostoyevsky, Nabokov told anyone who would listen, was “a third-rate writer and his fame is incomprehensible.” He called Henry James “that pale porpoise.” Philip Roth? “Farcical.” Norman Mailer? “I detest everything that he stands for.” T. S. Eliot and Thomas Mann were “fakes.” When his friend Wilson suggested that he include Jane Austen in his Cornell survey course on European literature, Nabokov responded, “I dislike Jane [Austen] and am prejudiced, in fact, against all women writers.” Leo Tolstoy and Nikolai Gogol: da. Everybody else: nyet.
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