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" "O intelecto universal ( a causa eficiente) é (...) o todo que preenche todas as coisas, o que ilumina o universo e leva a natureza a produzir suas várias espécies de acordo. É para a produção das coisas naturais o que nosso intelecto é para a representação das coisas. Os pitagóricos o chamam de ''movedor'' e ''agitador do universo'' (...) os plantonistas o chamam ''o artífice do mundo'' (...) os hermeticistas dizem que é o ''mais fecundo em sementes'' ou ainda, que ele é ''o semeador de sementes'' (...) Orfeu o chama de ''o olho do mundo'' (...) Empédocles o chama de o ''diferenciador'' (...) Plotinus diz que ele é o ''pai e progenitor (...) quanto a nós, nós o chamamos o ''artífice interno'', porque dá forma a matéria, formando-a dentro como uma semente ou como uma raiz lançando-se a frente, desdobrando o tronco, de dentro do tronco impelindo para fora os galhos, dos galhos os ramos derivados, desfraldando brotos de dentro deles. (...) Há três tipos de intelecto: o divino, que é tudo, o mundano, do qual falamos, que (re)produz tudo, e o outro, singular, que se torna tudo, porque é necessário um meio termo entre dois extremos, e esta é a verdadeira causa eficiente, não apenas extrínseca, mas intrínseca, de todas as formas naturais.
Giordano Bruno (1548 – 17 February 1600) was an Italian universalist pantheist monist philosopher, mathematician, astronomer and poet, who, following an Inquisition for heresy and the denial of several Catholic doctrines, was burned at the stake in Rome, 1600; born Filippo Bruno, in Nola, Italy, he often called himself Il Nolano (The Nolan).
Biography information from Wikiquote
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IF, O most illustrious Knight, I had driven a plough, pastured a herd, tended a garden, tailored a garment: none would regard me, few observe me, seldom a one reprove me; and I could easily satisfy all men. But since I would survey the field of Nature, care for the nourishment of the soul, foster the cultivation of talent, become expert as Daedalus concerning the ways of the intellect; lo, one doth threaten upon beholding me, another doth assail me at sight, another doth bite upon reaching me, yet another who hath caught me would devour me; not one, nor few, they are many, indeed almost all. If you would know why, it is because I hate the mob, I loathe the vulgar herd and in the multitude I find no joy. It is Unity that doth enchant me. By her power I am free though thrall, happy in sorrow, rich in poverty, and quick even in death. Through her virtue I envy not those who are bond though free, who grieve in the midst of pleasures, who endure poverty in their wealth, and a living death. They carry their chains within them; their spirit containeth her own hell that bringeth them low; within their soul is the disease that wasteth, and within their mind the lethargy that bringeth death. They are without the generosity that would enfranchise, the long suffering that exalteth, the splendour that doth illumine, knowledge that bestoweth life. Therefore I do not in weariness shun the arduous path, nor idly refrain my arm from the present task, nor retreat in despair from the enemy that confronteth me, nor do I turn my dazzled eyes from the divine end. Yet I am aware that I am mostly held to be a sophist, seeking rather to appear subtle than to reveal the truth; an ambitious fellow diligent rather to support a new and false sect than to establish the ancient and true; a snarer of birds who pursueth the splendour of fame, by spreading ahead the darkness of error; an unquiet spirit that would undermine the edifice of good discipline to establish the frame of perversity.
Wherefo