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" "In the word vast, the vowel a retains all the virtues of an enlarging vocal agent. Considered vocally, therefore, this word is no longer merely dimensional. Like some soft substance, it receives the balsamic powers of infinite calm. With it, we take infinity into our lungs, and through it, we breathe, cosmically, far from human anguish. Some may find these minor considerations. But no factor, however slight, should be neglected in the estimation of poetic values. And indeed, everything that contributes to giving poetry its decisive psychic action should be included in a philosophy of the dynamic imagination. Sometimes, the most varied, most delicate perceptive values relay one another, in order to dynamize and expand a poem. Long research devoted to Baudelaire's correspondences should elucidate the correspondence of each sense with the spoken word.
Gaston Bachelard (June 27, 1884 – October 16, 1962) was a French philosopher of science and literary critic.
Biography information from Wikiquote
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Sometimes the house of the future is better built, lighter and larger than all the houses of the past, so that the image of the dream house is opposed to that of the childhood home. Late in life, with indomitable courage, we continue to say that we are going to do what we have not yet done: we are going to build a house. This dream house may be merely a dream of ownership, the embodiment of everything that is considered convenient, comfortable, healthy, sound, desirable, by other people. It must therefore satisfy both pride and reason, two irreconcilable terms.
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Em suma, é preciso confessar que existem dois tipos de leitura: a leitura em animus e a leitura em anima. Não sou o mesmo homem quando leio um livro de idéias, em que o animus deve ficar vigilante, pronto para a crítica, pronto para a réplica, ou um livro de poeta, em que as imagens devem ser recebidas numa espécie de acolhimento transcendental dos dons. Ah, para fazer eco a esse dom absoluto que é uma imagem de poeta seria necessário que nossa anima pudesse escrever um hino de agradecimento! O animus lê pouco; a anima, muito.
Não é raro o meu animus repreender-me por ler demais.
Ler, ler sempre, melíflua paixão da anima. Mas quando, depois de haver lido tudo, entregamo-nos à tarefa, com devaneios, de fazer um livro, o esforço cabe ao animus. E sempre um duro mister, esse de escrever um livro. Somos sempre tentados a limitar-nos a sonhar.