The heathen philosopher, when he had a mind to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips to open.
THE MOST notorious ill-fortune must in the end yield to the untiring courage of philosophy – as the most stubborn city to the ceaseless vigilance of an enemy.
At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white and slender angels who would save me; but then, all at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fibre in my frame thrill as if I had touched the wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaningless spectres, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help.
“Pray, sir, how old – may – you – call yourself?” inquired the metaphysician, with a cut of his eye. “Old? Sir? Eh? Oh! a mere trifle. As I was saying, you have certain very outre notions in that book of yours. Now, what do you mean by all that humbug about the soul? Pray, sir, what is the soul?” “The soul,” replied Pedro, referring to his MSS., “is undoubtedly —” “No, sir!” “Indubitably —” “No, sir!” “Evidently —” “No, sir!” “And beyond all question —” “No, sir! – the soul is no such thing.” “Then what is it?” “That is neither here nor there, Signor Pedro,” replied the stranger,
It was a dark and stormy night. The rain fell in cataracts; and drowsy citizens started, from dreams of the deluge, to gaze upon the boisterous sea, which foamed and bellowed for admittance into the proud towers and marble palaces. Who would have thought of passions so fierce in that calm water that slumbers all day long?
“The heathen philosopher, when he had a mind to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips to open.”
