Glimmers that make one impatient because they show nothing.
— These are what I call gashes rather than strokes.
... these are only metaphors of habit. They must be of necessity, of temper, of ecstasy, of conviction. In a metaphor, finally, there must always be something sudden and being born, or sublime.
And these interrupted works give at least experience of the mind’s operations.
Architecture of words. (Add) in which everything is made with words that can hold themselves in the air. Add again: like sounds. And seek what can give sounds this quality, or what properly constitutes a sound and makes a noise such a thing or not.
Yes. They do speak of the rules of cooking. But in what they say, I do not sense those of taste. I find neither proportions nor seasonings in it.
— and how many good ideas come in an attic with rats in it — when the weather is bad.
Longinus’s chapter entitled “that figures need the sublime.” Figures need the sublime as fire needs air, as air needs space. It may not be true that figures need sublimity precisely; but they need at least the ideal, a certain vastness in ideas. Without that, they have no place, no suitable space. They are put into what is full, where nothing outlines them or shows them to advantage, where they are, so to speak, a too much. So when you wish to use a figure, first make and prepare a region for it. Region is the suitable word here.
Besides, I suspect that Longinus’s title is more ample and better than his chapter. I am going to see.
P. S. The chapter is not bad, but the title is worth more.
Darts that are not thrown.
March […].
... with that laughter that seems to rejoice in evil.
For words are labels. And it is in seeking them that things are found.
— like those acts of justice that corrupt those who perform them.
Figures. They have the faculty of producing them, but not the skill to place them.
What leaves good taste, but to enter great taste.
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The Notebooks of Joseph Joubert, Volume II · Book Mode · Diotimos