"To this, then, comes our whole argument respecting the fourth kind of
madness, on account of which anyone, who, on seeing the beauty in this
lower world, being reminded of the true, begins to recover his wings,
and, having recovered them, longs to soar aloft, but, being unable to do
it, looks upwards like a bird, and despising things below, is deemed to
be affected with madness."
Beauty in itself. In itself--Beauty in beautiful things. She had never
thought about it that way before. It would be like the white light in the
colours.
Plato, discovered in looking for the lost Shelleys, thus consoled her.
The Plato of Bohn's Library. Cary's English for Plato's Greek. Slab upon
slab. No hard, still sound-patterns. Grey slabs of print, shining with an
inner light--Plato's thought.
Her happiness was there, too.