How many, think ye, have likewise fallen into Plato’s honey head, and sweetly perished there?
And I am convinced that from the heads of all ponderous profound beings, such as Plato, Pyrrho, the Devil, Jupiter, Dante, and so on, there always goes up a certain semi-visible steam, while in the act of thinking deep thoughts.
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Plato famously said, "We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."
I remember something Mrs. Harbor once said on one of her crazy tangents in English: that Plato believed that the whole world—everything we can see—was just like shadows on a cave wall.