Anaxagoras

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The moon is obscure . . .
Exceedingly itself, it
exists apart, lost

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It is I who call
the sun into being . . . The
gods are perishing

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Dissolution is
the descent from self-ruled Mind
to appearances

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A glimpse of Hades
and it is possible to
dissolve everything

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The infinite is
the same from every place . . . So
too all things unseen

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