“Our head strikes the heavens” – Homer, Iliad 4,443
“Often I reawaken from my body to myself: I come to be outside other things, and inside myself. What an extraordinarily wonderful beauty I then see! It is then, above all, that I believe I belong to the greater portion. I then realize the best form of life; I become at one with the Divine, and I establish myself in it. Once I reach this supreme activity, I establish myself above every other spiritual entity. After this repose in the Divine, however, when I come back down from intuition into rational thought, then I wonder: How is it possible that I should come down now, and how was it ever possible that my soul has come to be within my body…?” (IV 8, 1, 1-11)
“According to [Plotinus], the human soul occupies an intermediate position between realities inferior to it—matter and the life of the body—and realities superior to it: purely intellectual life, characteristic of divine intelligence, and higher still, the pure existence of the Principle of all things. Within this framework, the experience Plotinus describes for us consists in a movement by which the soul lifts itself up to the level of divine intelligence, which creates all things and contains within itself, in the form of a spiritual world, all the eternal Ideas or immutable models of which the things of this world are nothing but images. Our text even seems to give us to understand that the soul, passing beyond all this, can fix itself in the Principle of all things. . . .
“Each degree of reality, he argues, can only be explained with reference to its superior level; the unity of the body is explained by the unity of the soul which animates it; the life of the soul requires illumination by the life of higher Spirit; and finally, we cannot understand the life of the Spirit itself without the fecund simplicity of the absolute, divine Principle, which is, in a sense, its deepest intimacy.
“The point that interests us here, however, is that all this traditional terminology is used to express an inner experience. All these levels of reality become levels of inner life, levels of the self. Here we come upon Plotinus’ central intuition: the human self is not irrevocably separated from its eternal model, as the latter exists within divine Thought. The true self—the self in God—is within ourselves. During certain privileged experiences, which raise the level of our inner tension, we can identify ourselves with it. We then become this eternal self; we are moved by its unutterable beauty, and when we identify ourselves with this self, we identify ourselves with divine Thought itself, within which it is contained.
“Such privileged experiences make us realize that we never cease, and have never ceased, to be in contact with our true selves.”
“Not everything in the soul is immediately perceptible; rather, it comes through to ‘us’ when it reaches perception. Yet as long as a part of our soul is active but does not communicate [this fact] to the perceptual apparatus, then the activity does not reach the entire soul…” (V I, 12, 5-8)
“When the influences from above do not act upon us, they are active in the direction of the upper world. They act upon us when they reach as far as the middle. What? Does not what we call ‘us’ also include what comes before the middle? To be sure, but we must become conscious of this fact. It is not the case that we always use all that we possess, but only when we direct the middle part either upwards or in the opposite direction, or when we bring that which was in a state of potentiality or habitude into actuality.” (I, 1, 11, 2-8)
“Consciousness, then—and along with it our ‘self’—is situated, like a median or an intermediate center, between two zones of darkness, stretching above and below it: on the one hand, the silent unconscious life of our ‘self’ in God; on the other, the silent and unconscious life of the body. . . . But we will not be what we really are, until we become aware of these levels.”
“If we come to be at one with our self, and no longer split ourselves into two, we are simultaneously One and All, together with that God who is noiselessly present, and we stay with him as long as we are willing and able. If we should return to a state of duality, we remain next to him as long as we are pure; thus we can be in his presence again as before, if we turn to him again. Out of this temporary return to division, we have, moreover, gained the following benefit: in the beginning, we regain consciousness of ourselves, as long as we are other than God. When we then run back inside, we have everything [sc. Consciousness and unity with God]. Then, abandoning perception out of fear of being different from God, we are at one in the other world.” (V 8, 11, 4-12)
“The world of the Forms is the ‘visible world freed from its materiality; that is to say, reduced to its Beauty’ . . . If the forms require no explanation, and contain within themselves their own justification, the reason is that they are living beings . . . Life, for [Plotinus], is a formative, simple, and immediate activity, irreducible to all our analyses. It is a totality present all at once, within itself; a Form which forms itself; an immediate knowledge which effortlessly attains perfection.”
“[In the world of the Forms,] All things are transparent, and there is nothing dark or resistant, but each Form is clear for all others right down to its innermost parts, for light is clear to light. Indeed, each has everything within it, and again sees all things in any other, so that all things are everywhere, everything is everything, each individual is all things, and the splendor is without end. . . . [Beauty] shines brightly upon all things, and fills whomever arrives there, so that they too become beautiful. Likewise, people often climb to lofty places, where the earth is colored golden-brown, and are filled with that color, and made similar to that upon which they are walking. In that other world, however, the color which blooms on the surface is beauty itself; or rather, each thing is color and beauty, right from its very depths.” (V , 10, 26-30)
“[T]he simplicity of life escapes the grasp of reflection. Human consciousness, living, as it does, split into two, and occupied by calculations and projects, believes that nothing can be found until it has been searched for; that the only way to build is to put various pieces together; and that it is only by using means that one can obtain an end. Everywhere it acts, consciousness introduces something intermediate. Life, by contrast, which is able to find without searching, invents the whole before the parts, and is end and means at the same time—which, in a word, is immediate and simple—is incapable of being grasped by reflection. In order to reach it, just as in order to reach our pure self, we shall have to abandon reflection for contemplation.”
“Life is immediate self-contemplation…”
“Life is a presence which always precedes us.”
“God, then, is total presence: the presence just as much of our self to itself as of individual beings to one another…”
“Since we look towards the outside, away from the point at which we are all joined together, we are unaware of the fact that we are one. We are like faces turned towards the outside, but attached on the inside to one single head. If we could turn around—either spontaneously or if we were lucky enough to ‘have Athena pull us by the hair’—then, all at once, we would see God, ourselves, and the All.” (VI 5, 7, 9-13)
“To be sure, you were already previously the All, but since something other came to be added on to you besides the ‘All,’ you were lessened by this addition. For this addition did not come from the All—what could you add to the All?—but from Not-Being. When one comes to be out of Not-Being, he is not the All, not until he rids himself of this Not-Being. Thus, you increase yourself when you get rid of everything else, and once you have gotten rid of it, the All is present to you.” (VI 5, 12, 13-29)
“The world of Forms could not, by itself, kindle our love, if it did not receive from elsewhere the Life which animates it. . . . For Plotinus, if things were nothing other than what they are, in their nature, essence and structure, they would not be lovable. In other words, love is always superior to its object, however lofty the latter may be. Its object can never explain or justify it. There is in love a ‘something more,’ something unjustified; and that which, in objects, corresponds to this ‘something more’ is grace, or Life in its deepest mystery. . . . What Plotinus calls the Good is thus, at the same time, that which, by bestowing grace, gives rise to love, and that which, by awakening love, causes grace to appear.”
“Platonic love…has a masculine tonality: it is uneasy, possessive, eager to act, and hungry for posterity. It is also intimately liked to education, pedagogy, and the organization of the state. Conversely, Plotinian love has a feminine tonality, because it is first and foremost mystical . . . Platonic love rises, through a series of intellectual operations, up to the contemplation of Beauty; Plotinian love, by contrast, waits for ecstasy, ceasing all activity, establishing the soul’s faculties in complete repose, and forgetting everything, so as to be completely ready for the divine invasion.”
“Like a dancer taking up different poses, the Forms—and their Beauty—are only the figures in which the fecund simplicity of a pure movement expresses itself: a movement which engenders these forms at the same time as it goes beyond them, all the while remaining within itself.”
“Beauty is nothing but fixated grace.” – Leonardo da Vinci