you brought it on yourself miss twiddle

Anger must be escaped with learned instructions; that is, the conscious fault of the mind, not the sort that occurs by some condition of human existence and therefore happens even to the wisest; chief among this sort of thing is that blow to the mind which moves us after becoming conscious of an injury. [3] This happens even at staged plays and while reading history. Often, we seem to get angry at Clodius when he is exiling Cicero and at Antony when he is killing him. Who is not stirred up against Marius's arms, against Sulla's Proscriptions? Who is not enraged at Theodotus and Achillas and 'that boy who dared no boyish crime'? [4] Sometimes even song incites us, and a stirring tune or the martial sound of the trumpet; the mind is disturbed by horrifying paintings and grim sight of even the most just executions. [5] This is why we smile at those who laugh and a crowd of mourners make us sad and we blow our tops at others' contests. This is not anger, no more than it is sorrow that makes us frown at the sight of an imitation shipwreck, no more than it is fear which runs through the minds of readers when Hannibal is besieging the walls after Cannae: rather, all of these are movements of minds that move not of their own volition: not emotions, but the first preludes of emotions. [6] So a veteran's ears, even when he is a civilian during peacetime, are sometimes aroused by the trumpet, and the clank of weapons stirs up army horses. They say that Alexander put his hand to his weapon while Xenophantes was reciting. (Seneca, De Ira, 2.2.2-6)

(NOTES: Theodotus and Achillas and that boy...: Ptolemy XII and his two advisers, who murdered Pompeius Magnus when he sought refuge in Egypt in 48 BC.

imitation shipwreck: slightly disturbing example of "fake emotion" in that a "mimicum naufragium" might well be a staged arena spectacle in which people were actually dying.

Xenophantes: A musician at the court of Alexander? Anyway, this passage is sort of interesting as an ancient reference to PTSD.)

O. rather curtly cuts short Eurycleia's tale-bearing about her fellow-servants. He prefers to see to this sort of thing himself

no one is so hard on a faithful servant as an unfaithful servant.

ἦγον sc. from the θάλαμος : the subject is presumably the swineherd, the cowherd, and perhaps -- one hopes not -- Telemachus. O. himself was inside the house and had no part in the following barbarities, which are best excused as the revenge of servants on a traitorous servant. Even Antinous when he threatened similar indignities on Irus, did not propose to inflict them himself.

Instead of queer folk rapidly sketched we are now shown ordinary folk searchingly portrayed...Who would not rather face the anger of Aeolus and the blandishments of Circe, and even the terrors of the Cyclops and Scylla, than suffer, in constant danger of detection and death, the taunts and missiles of insolent princelings and the derision of his own disloyal servants? Truly it needed a heart and face as hard as steel and horn (19.211) for a husband after nearly twenty years' separation from his wife to witness her deep sorrow, for a father to watch the humiliations of his only son, for a kingly householder, disguised as a beggar, to see the anarchy, extravagance, insolence, and immorality that prevailed in his own palace, without betraying himself prematurely.

These noble sentiments are often echoed in the letters and speeches he wrote at this time. After Caesar's murder, Cicero felt himself in imminent peril. But he was still more anxious for the State than for himself...Finally, in the Fourteenth Philippic, "after the high Roman fashion, (he) spoke weighty and solemn words on the shortness of life and the eternity of glory. This speech, the last public utterance which we have of Cicero's is in his highest strain, and is in every respect worthy of the orator who delivered it, of the language he spoke, and of the Roman name." It was the twenty-first of April, 43 B.C. In December of that same year he was done to death by the agents of Antony.
. . .
"Rome's least mortal mind" remained to the end very mortal still. But all who know Cicero intimately must admit that the glory he hungered after was no mean or vulgar thing. It inspired him to live nobly and to die bravely, like one of his old Roman heroes.

Please describe how your personal background informs your decision to pursue a graduate degree. Please include information on how you have overcome barriers to access higher education, evidence of how you have come to understand the barriers faced by others, evidence of your academic service to advance equitable access to higher education for women, racial minorities, and individuals from other groups that have been historically underrepresented in higher education, evidence of your research focusing on underserved populations or related issues of inequality, or evidence of your leadership among such groups.

Natus sum Paulus Joannes Guilelmus Kempe a.d. III non.Nov. anno 1897 in Pomeraniae oppido, cui nomen est Koeclin, patre Ernesto, matre Augusta e gente Mueller, quibus vivis salvisque vehementer gaudeo. Fidei addictus sum evangelicae.

Primis litterarum elementis imbutus ab anno 1908 patrio in oppido gymnasium regium adii, ubi maturitatis testimonium adeptus sum. Vere anni 1916 libens arma cepi ad patriam defendendam. Graviiter vulneratus paulo ante finem belli stipendiis relictis ab autumno anni 1918 Berolinensem frequentavi universitatem ibique studiis inprimis philologicae incubui. Inde mense Ianuario anni 1920 Gryphiam me contuli iisdem litteris operam daturus.

I was born Paul John William Kempe on the fifth of November, 1897, in the Pomerianian town of Koeclin, my father being Ernest and my mother Augusta of the Mueller family, in whom I rejoice greatly that they are alive and well. I am devoted to the evangelical faith.

Given the first elements of letters, I went to the Royal Gymnasium in my home town from the year 1908, where I achieved a diploma. In the spring of 1916 I freely took up arms to defend my homeland. Severely wounded a little before the end of the war, I attended Berlin University from the autumn of 1918 with the pension left to me, and here I dwelt on philological studies above all. From there, in January 1920 I took myself to Gryphia to study those same letters.