Anxiety

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Synanon Kid: Book One: A Memoir of Growing Up in the Synanon Cult

  spending too much time with their offspring, based on Chuck’s distorted view that parental influence psychologically poisoned children. I discovered an example of a sleeping arrangement for a B-FIC in a different Kerista booklet. It was not unlike trying to figure out a complicated subway schedule. The women appeared to stay in the same rooms and were visited by their different husbands according to some hierarchy of who came to the commune when. The husbands bed hopped every night to the different rooms, and it appeared that some of the wives resided in different buildings. I set the schedule down after getting lost on the second week in the month and stared at Sara, biting my lip. She sat in a corner by herself, her knees drawn up, clutching an Archie comic. Her short, dark hair was slick and straight on some parts of her head, but rose up spiky in other sections. Still flat chested, with a husky build, her body was a curve-less block of musculature that contained a wide waist extending to straight hips, and on down to thick, stout legs. She looked very much like a boy, only she wore a drawstring blouse and bright yellow pants, one of two pairs that she owned in her sparse wardrobe. In two years Sara would be sixteen. Did that mean she might end up married to someone like Jud? I swiped at the beads of sweat that broke out across the bridge of my nose. Would I be forced to marry all these people in a few years? I scanned the room and my eyes alighted on Theresa, fitting in perfectly; she even wore a green bandana on her head. I watched her nod in agreement to something someone said. Ray sat next to her, clearing his throat and shifting his body in a fidgety way, a sign that he felt uncomfortable. Theresa had been talking about Kerista since I was seven. Once, while still in Synanon, we had secretly visited the community. At the time I was too young to care or understand the possible ramifications. Now that I was eleven, I could see what a disaster this might be. We had finally managed to leave Synanon behind, only to possibly get sucked into another insulated, eccentric cult. I spent the rest of the evening reading and trading Archie comics with

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  One of the city’s signature food items is a slablike whitefish devoid of the southern paprika and varicolored peppers that might make such a thing edible. Even its basketball team is thick with knobby-jointed midwestern farm boys whose pasty torsos evoke the aforementioned fish. Nobody ever wants me to have any fun. What’s the big deal? Ow, she says. This is payback for all those Tonette permanents you scalded my ears off with. Mother tries to catch Warren’s eyes in the rearview, saying, Warren, you’ve gotta come to Texas and see the pictures, of your wife. Do you think I look bad? You got in the back so quick I couldn’t see you, he says. His eyes are fixed on the lights of Boston. Master of diplomacy, I say. A compliment, this is, since—without such detachment—I still get whiplash from my own family’s turbulence. Warren, can you hand me my purse? she says. I’ll find the Shalimar. Can we stop and buy some Visine? I say. And some mouthwash, maybe? It’ll make us late, he says. And I need some cigarettes, Mother says, rummaging through her purse. She stops suddenly and looks at me. She touches her mother’s cameo at my neck, saying, I’d like to paint you like this. The road’s lights steamroll over us. I can see the sweat break out on Warren’s temples as I beg him to stop, though he hates being late. I’ve mostly tamped down Mother’s ash-white hair, and I’m using my fingers to comb through its natural waves, saying, You do have the best cheekbones, Mother. I can’t tell if there are tears in her eyes or she’s just high as she says, I don’t want to go if I’m gonna embarrass you. Warren pulls up outside a bodega and leaves us in the puffing car. Seeing his runner’s form in the unfamiliar structure of a suit brings a surge of ardor. Soon as he’s out of sight, Mother says, Harold and I share a glass of wine every now and then, when we go out dancing—Harold being the somewhat prissy young man of color hired to help care for Daddy. This gives me a sick feeling in my chest. I look toward the door Warren disappeared through, his presence an antivenin to the snakebite of Mother’s disarray. Our family’s so inadequately small compared to the profligate Whitbreads. My own daddy’s so out of things, he probably doesn’t actually know I’m getting married. Inside, I keep trying to squash down the image of my blear-eyed daddy, since a buried part of me longs for him to be reborn all tall and sober, to loop my arm in his, to wrap my hand on his biceps, then squire me to Warren’s side. A father walks his daughter down the aisle. Such a wholly unoriginal wish could dismantle me if I permit myself to dip into it. In my head, I shoo it off like an insect.

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  Right before Easter, as our church gears up to baptize and confirm newcomers, I’m still—metaphorically speaking—staring down from the airplane door, wondering whether my parachute will open if I step out. At one point Toby asks me, Why haven’t you taken communion at any of the churches you’ve visited when you travel? Those priests don’t know if you’re Catholic or not. The idea shocks me, and I say so. Why not? He has a mischievous grin on his face. That would defile the Sacrament, insult the belief of all those people in church who’re committed to the faith. So, he says, that is sacred to you? It was, is. In the end, no white light shines out from the wounds of Christ to bathe me in His glory. Faith is a choice like any other. If you’re picking a career or a husband—or deciding whether to have a baby—there are feelings and reasons pro and con out the wazoo. But thinking it through is—at the final hour—horse dookey. You can only try it out. Not choosing baptism would make me feel half-assed somehow, like a dilettante—scared to commit to praising a force I do feel is divine—a reluctance grown from pride or because the mysteries are too unfathomable. In the back of a dark church on Holy Saturday, I sit between Dev and Toby. In the pews, everybody holds an unlit candle, and the priest comes in with the altar’s mega-candle. Stopping at the back row, he touches its taper to the charred filament on either side of the aisle. The flame’s passed one to another until we’re all holding fire in our hands. Not long after, Walt calls after a longish silence. He’d been nursing Shirley through her long battle with cancer. And other than seeing them at their son’s wedding, I’d been in scant touch till her death. On the phone, I tell him how—in conference with an obstreperous student—I was about to snap at the kid when it dawned on me that he was Huck Finn. See, I say on the phone, how I’m still channeling you? How is finding Huck Finn in your office channeling me? Don’t you remember telling me that unless you knew what was in my head, you couldn’t get Ernst Cassirer in there? Knowing the kid was Huck Finn let him be who he was with me. I remember reading Cassirer with you. And that little rat you took care of after she’d had her babies? There were so many of them, he says. I tell him how my students keep shape-shifting into characters from novels. A shy, disheveled farm kid was the young stable boy Wart about to pull a sword from a stone and become a king. A flushed sorority girl who hung a ball gown in a dry cleaner’s bag from my doorjamb while she spoke transformed into flushed young Kitty hoping to dance the mazurka in Anna Karenina. You’re one of the big reasons I believe in God.

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  2 The Mother of Invention If Jesus had said to her before she was born, “There’s only two places available to you. You can either be a [n-word] or you can be white- trash,” what would she have said? “Please. Jesus, please,” she would’ve said, “just let me wait until there’s another place available.” —Flannery O’Connor, “A Good Man Is Hard to Find” Mother’s yellow station wagon slid like a Monopoly icon along the gray road that cut between fields of Iowa corn, which was chlorophyll green and punctuated in the distance by gargantuan silver silos and gleaming, unrusted tractors glazed cinnamon red. Mother told me how the wealth of these farmers differed from the plight of the West Texas dirt farmers of her Dust Bowl youth, who doled out mortgaged seed from croker sacks. But because I was seventeen and had bitten my cuticles raw facing the prospect of fitting in at the private college we’d reach that night—which had accepted me through some mixture of pity and oversight—and because I was split-headed with the hangover Mother and I had incurred the night before, sucking down screwdrivers in the unaptly named Holiday Inn in Kansas City, I told Mother something like, Enough already about your shitty youth. You’ve told me about eight million times since we pulled out of the garage. She asked me if we had any more of the peaches we’d bought in Arkansas. We got peaches galore, I said. The car was fragrant with the bushels of fruit we’d been wolfing for two days while our bowels grumbled. I picked through the soft bottom peaches for an unbruised one to hand her. I asked, Wasn’t that the name of some famous stripper, Peaches Galore? Pussy Galore, I believe, Mother said. She bit the peach with a zeal that made me cringe, as did her cavalier use of the word pussy, though I myself used it with alacrity. To look at her behind the wheel, with the mess she could make of a peach, appalled me. She was so primordial. She had to wipe the juice off her chin with the back of her hand. Out the window, legions of neat corn about to tassel announced a severe order I longed to enter into, one that would shut out the sprawling chaos of Mother. She tapped her cup of watery ice, saying, I could use a little dollop of vodka in there. The cup was in its sandbagged holder on the bump in the car floor next to her streamlined legs in exercise sandals. And if, as Samuel Johnson said, everyone has the face they deserve at fifty, Mother must have paid some demon off, for despite her wretched habits, her face looked amazing at her half century—with her shock of salt-and-pepper hair, pale skin, and fine features. She said, Don’t look at me that way. We got up at five. It’s cocktail hour by our schedule. We got any more ice?

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  13 Homesick ...Mind like a floating white cloud, Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance. Our horses neigh to each other as we are departing. —Li Po, “Taking Leave of a Friend” (trans. Ezra Pound) Two years after the wedding—five years after we met—Warren meets my invalid daddy on a summer day when the humid Texas air is saturated from the local oil refineries with a fluorocarbon stench that could peel paint. It’s their sole encounter. I lead Warren into the urine-drenched air of Daddy’s nursing home with a bluster I don’t feel, hugging the nurses on duty as if we’re long lost sorority sisters. But inside, I’m ashiver with anxiety. For what? What could I expect to go right or wrong between two men with such gulfs between them and such silence inside them—Warren bred to it, Daddy broken to it. Amid the other patients in the dayroom, Daddy is sitting with a thin pink blanket over his legs when we walk up. When he sees me, his face tries to brighten, but the dead half of it hangs down. He’s shaking his head with a stiff, persistent fraction of a smile. Truly, he’s a man split in half, neither fully dead nor fully alive. His eyes are black as a crow’s, though, and they sparkle and go wet when he sees me. Mur, he says, Murr. That’s right, I say It’s Mary. I kiss his whiskery neck, asking does he want me to shave him before I leave. But he doesn’t register the offer—a relief, since I whinge at inflicting the slightest razor nick. His good hand grabs my left hand, grips it with the old iron he had in my youth. I stand next to him while Warren waits off to the side. A little old lady in cat’s eye glasses with hair woven atop her head wheels up to me. She says, Are you his wife? No, ma’am, I say, wondering if maybe Mother doesn’t visit as often as she’s told us, else this old bird was also too out of things to remember Mother. His sweetheart? No, ma’am, I say. I’m his daughter. Thank goodness, she says. I’m his girlfriend. Daddy lets go my hand a second and waves over toward the lady. She wheels to his other side, then puts her hand on one wheel of his chair protectively, saying, He buys me Cokes. He stays with me all day, so I never have to wonder where he’s at. He’s good that way, I say. He’s never lied to me, not once. From the half of Daddy’s face I can see, his old smile is perfect. His eye glances off mine in cahoots. I can, for an instant, see him as he’d been all tall, kneeling down to me, saying, Don’t tell your mama and sister. You and me’ll sneak off for a strawberry freeze...

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  Later, I’m called onto the stage, where I’m supposed to stand immobile while they read my résumé—skimpy compared to every other. Then I’m meant to shake hands with one paw while I take the check with the other. Instead, I’ve fallen into such a flop sweat that a pause in the speech causes me to grab the check, thus failing to strike for the photographers the pose of humble gratitude I’d practiced for weeks in front of a mirror. At the party, Toby introduces me to his agent, a whippet-thin blonde with silver bangles up her muscled arm. She wears a raw-silk size-zero pencil skirt and is almost exactly my sister’s height in pricey heels. She lets Lux and me tag along to the expensive dinner for Toby. At the table, I feel conspicuous not ordering a drink, and—since water glasses haven’t shown up—as everybody else hoists a glass at Toby, I feebly hold an invisible glass in the air, as my head says, Do you think they are convinced by the nonexistent drink you are faux-lifting? I look at Toby, and the fact that his eyes don’t meet mine makes me wonder if he actually asked the agent whether Lux and I could come, or are we crashing? Am I supposed to pay for this meal? Next I know, Toby holds his glass aloft again, saying, And to my old pal Mary. A few minutes after everybody’s gone back to their conversations, I blurt out to nobody special, Thanks for having us. I say it loud enough that neighboring diners look over, but nobody says anything back. Lux keeps talking to the woman on his left. About that time, a passing waiter stops beside me to lift my napkin and lower it into my lap. I keep sweatily waiting for somebody to ask me why I’m not drinking so I can fire off one of the salvos Joan and I came up with, for to an alcoholic, not drinking is conspicuously freakish. (Now I realize nobody would notice except another sot.) Maybe I’ll just say Fuck you or On second thought, maybe I will...Waiter! I look at my watch. Fewer than ten minutes have elapsed since we sat down, and the night yawns before me. I slip off to the pay phone to call Joan the Bone—no answer. Ditto Deb. Coming back to face a full wineglass, I see Lux isn’t in his seat. I stare around at Toby, his agent, his editor—their faces are at the pinched end of a telescope. At one point, I think, What if somebody says something to me? The next instant, What if somebody doesn’t? In the bathroom, I splash some water on my neck and study how pasty I’ve gone. Plus, my nose has grown gargantuan pores—I never exfoliated! And boy am I shiny. I shift the pins at the back of my head around, but a tendril keeps springing loose on one side.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  833A; ἡ ἐκ σ. μάχη ἤδη. 4.15; ὅταν .. σύστασιν ὁ ἀγὼν ἔχῃ Put. Demetr. 16, cf. Aemil. 20 ;—metaph., σ. γνώμης a conflict of mind, in- tense anxiety, Thuc. 7. 71; so, ἤν τις πόνος ἢ σ. γίνηται τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ Hipp. 310. 9. 2. a meeting, collection, 6. g. of humours, Foés, Oec. Hipp. ; of water, Theophr. C. P. 5.14, 5; of winds, Diod. 3. 51; also of the place where waters collect, Ib. 36:—metaph., λύγων Plat. Rep. 457 E. 8. a meeting, union, a knot of men assembled, Eur. Andr. 1088, Heracl. 415; κατὰ ξυστάσεις γιγνόμενοι forming into knots, Thuc. 2. 21, cf. Xen. Eq. 7, 19, etc. b. α political union, more general than ἑταιρεία or σύνοδος, Isocr. 38 A, Dem. 1122. 5 :---ἐθνικαὶ o. national unions, Polyb. 24. 1, 3; κατὰ συστάσεις κωμάζειν Dio C. Fr. p. 60 Urs. 4. friendship or alliance, πρός τινα Polyb. 3. 78, 2: a con- spiracy, ἐπί τινα Plut. Pyrrh. 23. II. the composition, construc- tion, structure, constitution of a person or a thing, τοῦ κόσμου Tim. Locr. 99 D, Plat. Tim. 32 C; τῶν ὡρῶν, τοῦ κόσμου, τῆς ψυχῆς Id. Symp. 188 A, Tim. 32 C, 36D, etc.; % περὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν €. Ib. 75B; φυσικὴ o. Arist. Categ. 8, 133 ἡ σ. τῆς πόλεως Id. Pol. 4. 11, 8., 7-13; 0: b. absol. a political constitution, Plat. Rep. 546 A, Legg. 702 D, etc. 2. existence, origin, νόσων Id, Tim. 89 B, cf. C; ἡ ἐξ ἀρχῆς τῶν ὅλων o. Diod. 1. 7, cf. Plut. 2. 427 A,B; o. λαμβάνειν Arist. H. A. 5. 15,14, Polyb., etc.; of a river, Id. 9. 43, 1. 3. metaph. of the mind, o. φρενῶν contraction, sternness, sullenness, (cf. συνίστημι B. VI), Eur. Hipp. 983. 4. of bodies, a becoming com- pact or solid, σ. τοῦ ὑγροῦ περὶ τὴν ὑπερώην Hipp. 157 Ὁ, cf. Plut. 2.130C; ἕψειν μέχρι συστάσεως Galen. 5. a substance, πλάττειν éx πηλοῦ ζῷον ἤ τινος ἄλλης ὑγρᾶς o. Arist. P. A. 2. 9, 7, cf. Plut. 2. 696A; énpat o. Arist. H. A. 3. 15, 2.—Cf. συνίστημι throughout. συστἄσιώτηβ, ov, 6, a member of the same faction, a partisan, Hat. 5. 70, 124, Strab., etc. συστάται, of, pairs of young men matched for wrestling and other games, φίλοι καὶ σ. C.1. 268 11. 13 sq., 273. 11. the rafters of the roof which meet at top, Schol. Il. 23. 712.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  στενότης, lon. στειν--, 770s, 9, (στένος) narrowness. straitness, “EX- λήσποντον, ἐόντα στεινότητα μὲν ἕπτα σταδίους Hdt. 4. 85; τῇ τοῦ λιμένος στ. Thuc. 7. 62, cf. 4.24; θώρακος Hipp. Vet. Med. 18; διὰ τὴν στ. τῶν χωρίων, of Thermopylae, Lys. 193. 29; Tod οἰσοφάγου Arist. H. A. 1. 16,8; pl., ῥέουσα κατὰ τὰς στ. through the narrows, Id. Meteor. 2. I, Ὁ: ΤΙ. metaph. scantiness, δαπανημάτων Joseph. A. J. 19. 7, 5. στενο-τράχηλος, ov, narrow-necked, Schol. Ap. Rh. στενό-φλεβος, ov, with narrow, small veins, Galen. στενο-φλεβο-τόμος, 6, a narrow lancet, Paul. Aeg. 6. 8. στενο-φυής, és, narrow by nature, Alex. Incert. 30. 5. στενο-φυλλία, 7, narrowness of leaf, Theophr. Ὁ. P. 6. 18, 8. στενό-φυλλος, ov, narrow-leaved, Theophr. H. P. 8. 4, 1, 2. 131. στενό-φωνος, ov, with a weak, thin sound, ὄργανον Poll. 2. 111. στενοχωρέω, to be straitened or pressed for room, Comici ap. Ath. 582 B: metaph. to be anxious, in difficulty about, τινι Hipp. 27. 35. ple trans. to crowd, straiten, τοὺς ἀπαντῶντας Luc. Nigr. 13; τὰς πύλας, τὰς ὁδούς Charito 5. 3, etc. :—Pass., with fut. med. (Themist. 310 D), to be crowded together, Arist. Plant. 2. I, II, Diod. 20. 29; ἐν ταὐτῷ or. Luc. Tox. 29; ἐστ. τὰ κολαστήρια Synes. 147 A; of a picture, to be cramped or confined, Themist. l.c. 2. metaph. ¢o press closely, Twa Lxx (Judic. 16. 16) :—Pass. to be straitened, cramped, ἐν τοῖς σπλάγχνοις 2 Ep. Cor. 6. 12; τῷ κακῷ Schol. Eur. Med. 57; τῷ βίῳ Greg. Nyss. στενοχώρημα, τό, a case of straitening, difficulty, Hesych. otevoywpys, és, --στενόχωρος. Arist. G. A. 3. 4,5, v- Lob. Phryn. 185. Diosc. ἃ, στενοχώρησις, ews, ἧ, = στενοχωρία, Eust. Opusc. 166. 76. 4Y 1426 στενοχωρητικός, 77, ὄν, of or for straitening : Stud. 2. straitened, Bios Id. στενοχωρία, 7, narrowness of space, a confined space, Hipp. Art. 791; στ. παρέχειν φάρυγγι Ib. 807: want of room, by sea or land, Thue. 2. 80., 4. 26, 30, Plat. Legg. 708 B; ὑπὸ στενοχωρίας Id. Theaet. 195 A; στ. βίου the short space of life remaining, ΑΕ]. V. H. 2. 41; opp. to evpuxwpia and ἄνεσις, Plut. 2.679 E. II. metaph. straits, diffi- culty (cf. orevomopia), ἡ στ. τοῦ ποταμοῦ difficulty of passing the river, Xen. Hell. 1. 3, 7, cf. Plut. 2.182 B; distress, ἡ τῆς πόλεως Polyb. 1.67, I, etc.; ἡ τοῦ καιροῦ Dio Ὁ. 39. 34; cf. 2 Ep. Cor. 6. 4. στενό-χωρος, ov, of narrow space, strait, Hipp. 589. 19: Greg. Naz. στενό-ψῦχος, ov, narrow-souled, Theod. Stud. στενόω, Ion. στεινόω, to straiten, confine, contract, Liban. 4. 205 :— mostly in Pass., στενοῦσθαι és στενώτερον Hipp. Vet. Med. 17; τὰς διεξόδους ἐστένωται has its outlets narrow, Hdn. 8.1; στεινούμενον avAas .. ἄλσος Anth. P. 9. 656, 13 :—metaph. to be in difficulty, Byz.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  σπλήν, 6, gen. σπληνός :—the milt, spleen, Hdt. 2. 47, Hipp. Vet. Med. | 18, Ar. Fr. 421, Antiph. Φιλωτ. 1.8; τὸν σπλῆνα ἐκβάλλειν, of one | 2. pl. σπλῆνες, affections of | | 43 written σπονδιάς in Ath. 50 B. dying with anxiety, Ar. Thesm. 3. the spleen, Hipp. Aph. 1248. 3. mallow, Diosc. 2. 144. IL. -- σπληνίον, Hipp. Offic. 745. to σπλάγχνον: cf. Skt. plikan; Lat. lien; Slav. slezena; bluznis.) σπληνάριον, τό, -- σπληνίον 1, Diosc. Parab. 1. 54. σπληνιάω, to be splenetic, Arist. P. A. 3. 7, 15, Probl. 9. 5. σπληνίδιον [1], τό, -- σπληνίον, Alex. Trall. 8. 480. σπληνίζομαι, Dep. -- σπληνιάω, Greg. Naz. omAnvucds, 7, dv, (σπλήν) of the spleen, ἡ σπλ. ἀρτηρία Anced. Oxon. 3. 120. II. of persons, diseased in the spleen, hypochondriac, splenetic, Macho ap. Ath. 348 E, cf. Foés. Oec. Hipp. 5. v. σπλήν. σπληνίον, τό, a bandage or compress of linen moistened or spread with something to lay on a wound, Hipp. Fract. 769, Philem. Incert. 25; cf. Foés. Oecon. Hipp. 5. v. σπλήν. II. a plant of the fern kind, spleenwort, -- ἀσπλήνιον, Diosc. 3. 151.—On the accent, v. Theog- nost. 123. 20. σπληνίσκος, ὁ, Dim. of σπληνίον 1, Hipp. 467. 42. σπληνῖτις, 150s, ἡ, of the spleen, φλὲψ ond. a bloodvessel of the spleen, Syennes. ap. Arist. H. A. 3. 2, 7, Rufus. σπληνο-δάπᾶνος, ov, consuming, wasting the spleen, Nic. Myreps. σπληνόομαι, Pass. to have a compress applied (σπληνίον 1), Oribas. in Cocch. Chirurg. p. 90. II. to be distended, [τὸ αἷμα) ὑφ᾽ οὗ σπληνοῦται τὸ ἧπαρ Philostr. 350. σπληνώδη, ες. -- σπληνικός, Hipp. Aph. 1257, εἴς. σπογγάριον [a], τό, Dim. of σπόγγος. M. Anton. 5. 9. kind of eyesalve, Alex. Trall. 2. 127. σπογγεύς, éws, 6, -εσπογγοθήρας, Arist. H. A. 9. 37, 6, Probl. 32.5. σπογγιά, Ion. σπογγίη, ἧ. -- σπόγγος. a sponge, Lat. spongia, Ar. Ran. 482, 487, Arist. H. A. 9. 14,3, Aretae. Caus. M. Diut. 1.10; omoy- yids μαλακώτερον τὸ πρόσωπον Com. Anon, 285; σπογγιᾶς ἔπαινος, said of a toper, Aeschin. 42. 40.—On the Att. and Ion, accent, v. Greg. C. p. 148, Suid. omoyyias, ov, 6,=foreg,, Ar. ap. Schol. Aeschin. 42. 40; v. Meineke Com. Fr. 4. 647. σπογγιεύς, 7, dub. form for σπογγεύς, in Theophr. H. P. 4.6, 5. σπογγίζω, fut. ἔσω, to wipe with a sponge, Ar. Thesm. 247; τὰ βάθρα Dem. 313. 12; τὰ ὑποδήματα Ath. 351 A, Arr. Epict. 2. 22, 31. II. to wipe away, τὸν ἱδρῶτα... ἀπ᾽ ἐμοῦ σπόγγισον Pherecr. Ema. 7. omoyytov, τό, Dim. of σπόγγος. Ar. Ach. 463; v. σπόγγος fin. σπόγγισμα, τό, that which is wiped off with a sponge, cited from Eust. 8. αἰγὸς σπλήν, a name of the (Akin Lith. II. a | Pherecr. Ἐπιλ. 1; cf. παίω (B). | Bgk. σπόδειος), Arist. Fr. 271. σπλαγχνικός — σπολάᾶς. , ΄ σπογγιστιιςός, 7, ὄν, of or for sponging : ἡ -κή (sc. τέχνη) Plat. Soph. 227 A. :

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  συννοέω, to compare in thought, to think, meditate or reflect upon a thing, τάἀξ ἐμοῦ madaipara Soph. O. C. 453, cf. Plat. Symp. 220C, Phaedr. 241 C, Legg. 712D; &. τί τις χρήσεται to think what one can do with it, Ib.835 D:—so in Med., ἐν ἐμαυτῷ τι ovvvoovpevos Eur. Or. 634, cf. lon 644. II. to perceive by thinking, comprehend, under- stand, Plat. Theaet. 164 A, Soph. 280 B, al.; c. part., é. τινα μανθάνοντα Id. Epin. 976 B, cf. Plut. Pomp. 74; foll. by a relat., σ. ὅτι... to under- stand that .., Plat. Polit. 280 B, Arist. Pol. 3. 13,17; σ. ὡς .. Plat. Soph. 238 C, etc.:—so in Med., Ar. Ran. 598. συννοητικός, 7, ὄν, comprehensible, Plotin. I. 200. συννοητός, 7, dv, comprehensible, Justin. M. σύννοια, lon. —y, ἧ, (σύννοος) meditation, deep thought, avvvoin ἐχό- μενος wrapt in thought, Hdt. 1. 88; euol..% €. βουλεύει παλαί Soph. Ant. 279; ἐς σ. αὐτὸς αὑτῷ ἀφικέσθαι Plat. Rep. 571 Ὁ, cf. Legg. 790 A; ἐπὶ συννοίᾳ or -ας βαδίζειν Luc. Pisc. 13, Cronos. 11; ἐπὶ συννοίας γενέσθαι Alciphro 3. 67; μετὰ ovvvoias ποιεῖν τι Arist. Probl. 18. 4. 2. anxious thought, anxiety, συννοίᾳ δάπτομαι κέαρ Aesch. Pr. 4373 ἐπὶ συννοίᾳ πόδα κυκλεῖν Eur. Or. 632; σύννοιαν ὄμμασιν φέρων Id. Heracl. 381. 11. συννοίᾳ .. οἷον δέδρακε remorse for the deed, Id. Andr. 805; expl., in Def. Plat. 415 A, by διάνοια μετὰ λύπης. συννομέομαι, Dep. to live together, Plut. 2. 1005 E; v.1. συνευνομ--. συννομεύς, éws, 6, a fellow-shepherd, Schol. Theocr. 9. 28. συννομή, ἡ, a feeding together, joint pasture, Plat. Polit. 268C; v. 1. συννομική. II. in Plat. Legg. 737 E, Bekk. reads γενόμενα ἀνὴρ καὶ κλῆρος ξυννομὴ (for ξὺν νομῇ), the man and his allotment being a joint affair; but Ast’s reading, ἐύννομα, is easier. ovwopilw, to agree with, τινί Plat. Minos 316 Ὁ. συννομικός, 7, dv, of or for feeding together, v. sub συννομή. συννομοθετέω, to be a joint-lawgiver, Plat. Legg. 833 E, Dem. 708. fin. ouvvonoberns, ὁ, a joint-lawgiver, Greg. Naz.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  σπαρτός, 7, dv, also és, dv, Eur. Supp. 578 : (σπείρω) :—sown, grown 4, Soph. Ant, 258. 1003; λαιμοτόμους κεφαλάς Eur. 1. A. 776; om. τοῖς ITI. violent agitation, as of the - (A comparison of the. ~ , ὃ σπειν — σπσπτεν ω. ὄνυξιν [τοὺς νεοττούς], of the eagle, Arist. H. A. 9. 34, 3:—Pass., φλέ- βιον, σάρκα σπασθῆναι Hipp. 453. 13 sq. 3. to wrench, sprain, τὸ σκέλος ἔσπασε Plut. Arat. 33:—Pass., τὸν μηρὸν σπασθῆναι Hat. 6. 134; τοὺς πόδας Eur. Cycl. 639. 4. to snatch, tear or drag away, πῶλον παρὰ ἐυννόμων Plat. Legg.666E; ἔλαφον ἀπ᾽ ἐμῶν γονάτων Eur.Hec. 92: —Pass. véx βραχίονος σπασθείς Ib. 408; ὑπὸ πτερῶν Id. Απάτ.441. δ. metaph. ¢o carry away, draw aside, ἀλλά σ᾽ ἔσπασεν πειθώ Soph. ΕἸ. 561; τὰ πάθη οἷον νεῦρα on. ἡμᾶς Plat. Legg. 644 E. 6. Medic. to cause convulsion or spasm, prob. |. Hipp. Art. 830, v. Littré :—Pass. to be con- vulsed, σπασθεὶς ἀποθνήσκει Hipp. Aph. 1252, cf. 1255, Arist. H. A. 6. | 22,11, etc. ; ἐσπᾶτο yap πέδονδε καὶ μετάρσιος, of Hercules in his agony, Soph. Tr. 786 ; cf. σπάσμα, onacpds :—metaph. to be harassed, anxious, Arr. Epict. 1. I, τό. IIL. to draw in, suck in, θρόμβον αἵματος Aesch. Cho. 533; ἔσπασεν ἄμυστιν ἑλκύσας Eur. Cycl. 571; συνεκθανεῖν σπῶντα χρὴ τῷ πώματι Ib. 5733 μεστὴν ἀκράτου Θηρίκλειον ἔσπασεν Alex. ᾿Αγων. 4, cf. Incert. 20; this was the mode of drinking used by the συνόδοντα and by birds, while λάπτω designates that of the καρχαρόδοντα (cf. σπάσις), Arist. H. A. 8.6, 1, cf. Plut.2. 699D; so, om. τὸν μαστόν to suck it, Arist. H. A. 7. το, 5; σπᾶν ἀμυστί Ael. N. A. 6. 51; and in Med., ταύρου αἷμα σπασάμενος Apollod. 1. 9, 27 :—Pass., of the female, to be sucked, Arist. H. A. 6. 22,11; cf. ἕλκω II. 4. 2. so also, σπᾶν τὸ πνεῦμα Id. de Resp. 5,6; τὸν ἀέρα τὸν κοινόν Menand. Incert. 2. 7; Cc. gen. part., om. τῆς ὀριγάνου Arist. H. A. 9.6, γ; ἕκαστον τῶν τοῦ σώματος τὸ αὑτῷ οἰκεῖον ἐσπακέναι Id. Probl. 22. 2, cf. H. A. το. 5, "ἢ 3. metaph., πειθώ τε καὶ ἵμερον ἔσπασεν ex... drew,derived.. , |

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  part., σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα (for σπουδαίως ἐπονήσατο), Od. 9. 250, cf. 310, Soph. ΕἸ. 935, Eur. Med. 761, Ar. Ach. 179; and reversely σπεύδων is used as an Adv. in haste, eagerly, τοὶ δὲ σπεύδοντε πετέσθην Il. 23. 506; ἵκετο σπεύδων Pind. P. 4. 167; εἰς ἀρθμὸν ἐμοὶ .. σπεύδων σπεύδοντί ποθ᾽ ἥξει Aesch. Pr. 192; om. ἐβοήθει Xen. Hell. 4. 3, 1. 2. c. inf. to be eager to .., Hes. Op. 22, 671, Pind.O. 4.21, N. 9. 50, Hdt. 8.41, Aesch. Ag. 601, Soph.,etc. ; so in Med., σπευδόμεναι ἀφελεῖν Aesch. Eum. 306. 3. c. acc. et inf. to be anxious that .. , εἰρήνην ἑωυτοῖσι γενέσθαι Hdt. 1.74; ἔσπευδεν εἶναι μὴ μάχας Ar. Pax 672, cf. Plat. Prot. 361 B; so, τὸ λεκτικοὺς γενέσθαι τοὺς συνόν- τας οὐκ ἔσπ. Xen. Mem. 4. 3, 1. 4. foll. by a relat., om. ὡς Ζεὺς μήποτ᾽ ἄρξειεν Aesch. Pr. 203 ; σπ. ὅπως μὴ .. Plat. Gorg. 480 A; iva... , ἵνα μὴ .. , Id. Polit. 264 A, Isocr. 75 A; ὥστε μή, c. inf., Theophr. Odor. 57. 5. foll. by a Prep., om. és μάχην to hasten to .. Il. 4. 225; so also in Med., σπεύσομαι εἰς ᾿Αχιλῆα, iva .. 15. 402; om. εἰς ἄφενον Hes, Op. 24; εἰς ἀρετήν Theogn. 403; ἐς θαλάμους Eur. Hipp. 183; és τὰ πράγματα Id. Ion 599, etc.; εἰς ταὐτό τινι Xen. Cyr. 1. 3, 4: δώματος εἴσω Eur. Med. 100; ἐπί τι Lycurg. 155. 10, Plut., etc. ; om. περὶ Πατρόκλοιο θανόντος to struggle for him, Il. 17. 121; ὑπέρ twos C. I. 2147; πρός τινα Ar. Vesp. 1026, εἴς. ; also, om. ὁδόν Epigr. Gr. 653. 3. 6. with an Adv., om. of θέλεις Soph. Tr. 334; δεῦρο Ar. Ach, 179; ἔνθα Xen. An. 4. 8, 14, etc. 7. to be troubled in mind, harassed, LXX (Ex. 15. 15, 1 Regg. 28. 21, al.).

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  προσδοκέω, aor. -ἐδοξα, to be thought besides, c. inf., ἀπειρόκαλος προσέδοξεν εἶναι Dem. 617. 7., 757. 18; Dind. divisim πρὸς ἔδοξεν. προσδόκημα, τό, an expectation, Plat. Phileb. 32 B. προσδοκήσιμος, ov, to be expected, Byz. προσδοκητέον, verb, Adj. one must expect, Schol. Pind. N. 2. 16. προσδοκητός, 7, dv, expected, Aesch. Pr. 935. προσδοκία, 7, a looking for, expectation, whether in hope or fear, but more commonly fear, 1. c. gen., μέλλοντος κακοῦ, δεινῶν, θανά- του Plat. Lach. 198 Β, Tim. 70C, cf. Soph. 264 Β ; mp. τοῦ μέλλοντος Arist. P. A. 3. 6, 5; τὸν φόβον ὁρίζονται mp. κακοῦ Id. Eth. N. 3.6, 2; ἔχειν mp. τῆς ἀσφαλείας Dem. 319.9; mp. ἀγαθῶν ἐμβάλλειν Xen. Cyr. 1.6, 19; mp. μεγάλην ἔχειν ὡς εὖ EpovvTds Twos Plat. Symp. 194 A; Tas τῶν ἔργων προσδοκίας ἀπαιτεῖν τινα, i.e.ethe fulfilment of the ex- pectations raised, Aeschin. 52. ΤΟ. 2. absol., τῶν ὑποκειμένων προσδοκιῶν καὶ τῶν ἐλπίδων Dem. 348. 23; αἱ ἔσχαται mp. Diod. 20. 78. 3. foll. by a relat. word, προσδοκία ἢν μὴ .. οἵ μὴ οὐ.., Thuc. 2. 93., 5.14; also, προσδοκίαν παρέχειν ws.., Id. 7. 12; mp. ἐμποιεῖν ὡς .. , Isocr. 159 Ε. 4. with Preps., πρὸς προσδοκίαν ac- cording to expectation, Thuc. 6.63; so, κατὰ mp. Plat. Soph. 264 B; opp. to παρὰ προσδοκίαν, which is used of a kind of jokes much relished by the Greeks, as, ἔχειν ὑπὸ ποσσὶ---χίμεθλα (where πέδιλα was ex- pected), Dem. Phal. 152, Walz Rhett. 8. 5.44, cf. Arist. Rhet. 3. 11, 6. προσδόκιμος, ov, expected, looked for, or to be expected, 7. ὃ θάνατος Hipp. Progn. 39, cf. 46; τοῖς παρέουσί τε καὶ mp. κακοῖσι Ηάϊ. 8. 20. 2. often of persons, mp. ἐστι, ἣν, is, was expected, στρατὸν Tp. 1305 mp. expected to come to Cyprus, against Miletus, Id. 5. 108., 6.6; κατὰ πόδας ἐμεῦ ἐλαύνων mp. ἐστι Id. ο. 89; τοῦ βαρβάρου mp. ὄντος Thuc. I. 143 ἐκς Πελοποννήσου ἄλλη στρατιὰ mp. αὐτοῖς Id. 7. 15, cf. Dem. 69. 23. pee Bona! τό, something given into the bargain, Planud. Vit. Aesop. προσδοξάζω, to add an opinion, Plat. Theaet.209 D. 2. 20 imagine Jurther or besides, Epicur. ap. Diog. L. 10. 50, 62, etc. :—Pass., προσεδο- £ao0n περὶ τῆς θαλάσσης ταύτης πολλὰ ψεύδη Strab. 509. προσδοξοποιέομαι, Pass. to be subject to wrong opinions, Polyb. 17. 15, 16. πρόσδοσις, ews, 7), a giving besides, Hierocl. ap. Stob. 491. 33. προσδουλεύω, to be a slave besides, Gloss. προσδοχή, ἡ, reception, Epicur. ap. Diog. L. Io. 89. προσδρομή, ἡ, a sudden attack, Ptol. Tetrab. 3. p. 30. προσδυσκολαίνω, to be peevish towards one, Plut. 2. 818 A. προσδυσωπέω, to make ashamed at .., Eccl. προσδωρέομαι, Dep. to give besides, τινί τι Diod. 17. 38. προσεάω, fo suffer to go further, τινα Act. Ap. 27. 7. προσεγγελάω, to laugh at, v.1. for προσγελάω, Aesop. 143, De Fur.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  συνἄγωγεύς, 6, ove who brings together, an assembler, τῶν πολιτῶν Lys. 124. 13, cf. Luc. Peregr. 11 ; λόγος σ. τῶν ἀνθρώπων Max. Tyr. 7. as II. one who unites, ἔρως τῆς ἀρχαίας φύσεως €. Plat. Symp. 101 D; τῆς φιλίας Greg. Nyss. TII. οἱ συναγωγέες the con- tracting muscles, Hipp. 278. 35. συνἄγωγή, 7, α bringing together: I. of persons, ἀνδρὸς καὶ γυναικός Plat. Theaet. 150 A: a collecting, ὄχλων, ἀνδρῶν, etc., Polyb. 4. 7, 6, Diog. L. 2. 129, etc.; συμποσίου Ath. 192 B: an assembling, meeting, τῶν λογιστῶν C. 1. 76. 9, cf. 2448 IV. 7. 2. an assembly, Lxx (Ex. 12. 3, etc.) : α place of assembly, a synagogue, Ev. Luc. 8. 41, Act. Ap. 9. 2, etc. II. of things, σ. τῶν ἐκπεπταμένων Hipp. Offic. 744; opp. to διαίρεσις, Plat. Phaedr. 266 B ; o. πολέμου a levying of war, Thuc. 2. 18; α gathering in of harvest, τοῦ σίτου, οἴνου, etc., Polyb. I. 17, 9, etc. 5 χρημάτων, ὑδάτων, etc., Id. 2. a drawing together, contracting, συναγωγὰς καὶ ἐκτάσεις στρατιᾶς forming an army in column or in line, Plat. Rep. 526D; σ. τοῦ προσώπου a pursing up or wrinkling of the face, Isocr. 197 Ὁ ; τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν Arist. Probl. 4. 2; opp. to διαστολή, Id. Phys. 4.9, 9; σ. ἔχειν, σ. λαμβάνειν -- συνά- γεσθαι, Theophr. H. P. 3. 10, 5, Strab. 335, 536, etc. 3. a collec- tion, τῶν νόμων καὶ τῶν πολιτειῶν Arist. Eth. N. το. 9, 21, cf. Pol. 6. 1,33 of writings, Dion. H.2. 27, Cic. Att. 9.13, 3., 16.5, 5. 4. a con- clusion, inference, Arist. Rhet. 2.23, 30., 3. 9,8, Sext. Emp. P. 2.143,170. συνἄγωγία, 7, =foreg. 1, Plut. 2. 632 E, dub. for mpoaywyeia. συνἄγώγιμον δεῖπνον, 76,=sq., Alex. :Aox. 1, Ephipp. yp. 3. συνἄγώγιον, τό, (συνάγω Il. 3) a picnic, Menand. Ἔμπιπρ. 6: also the place of a picnic, Poll. 6. 7. II. a synagogue, Philo 1. 675. συνᾶγωγός, ὄν, bringing together, uniting, ἀμφοῖν Plat. Tim. 31 C; δεσμοὶ φιλίας o. Id. Prot. 322 C3; τὸ σ. ἀνθρώπων εἰς εὐνοίαν Plut. 2. 632 E:—absol., Sext. Emp. M. 9. Io, etc. 11. living together, gregarious, Philo 2. 255, Hesych. συνἄγωνιάω, to share in the anxiety, Polyb. 3. 43, 8, Plut., etc.; Tut with one, Diod. 17. 100; ὑπέρ τινος Plut. 2. 486 B. II. to assist in the contest, Or. Sib. 3. 712.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  ὑπ-οπτεύω, to be suspicious, Xen. Hier. 2, 17, Lys. 92. 33; also, ὕπ. εἴς τινα, ο. inf., to have suspicions of him that .., Thuc. 4. 51; cf. ὑπόπ- TNS. 2.. merely, fo suspect, guess, suppose, opp. to ἱκανῶς συννοῶ, Xen. Hell. 5. 4, 29, Plat. Theaet. 164 A. II. trans. to suspect, hold in suspicion, τινά Soph. El. 43,Thuc. 8. 39; θὴρ ix. κυναγώς Theocr. 23.10; bm. τινὰ εἴς τι Of something, Hdt. 3. 44, Thuc. 6. 92, Arist. Rhet. Al. 30, 9 :—Pass. to be suspected, mistrusted, Thuc. 4. 86 :—Pass., impers., ws ὑπωπτεύετο as was generally suspected, Xen. Hell. 5. 4, 20. 2. c. acc. pers. et inf. Zo suspect that he .. , tm. αὐτὸν δρησμὸν βουλεύεσθαι Hat. 8. 100, cf. 127., 3. 77, Thuc. 4. 126, Plat., etc. :—so also, ὑπ. τινὰ ὡς ον to suspect of him that .. , Hdt. 3.68; ὑπ. τινὰ μὴ .. , Id. 9. go. 3. c. acc. rei, to look suspiciously on, TO πρῆγμα ld. 6. 129; τὸ μέλλον Eur. Rhes. 49 :—but also, ὑπ. τι to suspect something, Id. 1. T. 1036, etc.; τι περί τινος Plat. Crat. 409 D; τι κατά τινος Polyb. 8. 22, 2 :— to have an inkling of -. , Plat. Gorg. 453 B; 6 ἵππος bm. τι (cf. ὑπόπτης) Xen. Eq. 6, 14 :—Pass., Plat. Legg. 967 B. ὑπ-όπτηϑ, ov, 6, (ὑφοράω, fut. imdPopar) suspicious, jealous, Soph. Ph. 136; εἴς τινα Thuc. 6.60; τινός Arist. H. A. 9. 44, 2. 2. of a horse, shy, Xen. Eq. 3, 9, cf. Schol. Thuc. |. c. ὑποπτήσσω, fut. fw: pf. ὑπέπτηχα. To crouch ox cower beneath, like hares, birds, etc., πετάλοις ὑποπεπτηῶτες (Ep. part. pf. for ὕποπεπ- τηκότες, cf. KaTa-, προσ-πτήσσω), 1]. 2. 312 ; so, ὑποπτήξας τάφῳ Eur. Hel. 1203. 11. metaph. to crouch before another, bow down to, τινί Xen. Cyr. 1. 5.1; also, ὑπ. τινά Aesch. Pr. g60 (cf. 29), Xen. Cyr. 1. , UTOTTLAOS — 6, 8; c. ace., ὑπ. τὸ ἀξίωμά τινος Aeschin. 42. 1 :—absol. to be modest or shy, Xen. Cyr. 1. 3,8; ὑπέπτηχε in pres. signf., Luc. Musc. Enc. 4. ὑπ-όπτϊἴλος, ov, with somewhat inflamed eyes, Gloss. ὑπ-οπτίων, ovos, 6, an under-helper, lo. Malal. ὑποπτίσσω, fut. iow, to separate by winnowing, Theophr. H. P. 4. 8, 14, acc. to Gaza; the Mss. have ὑποπτήσαντες.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  φύλᾶκη, ἡ, 4/PLTAAK, φυλάσσω) a watching or guarding, watch, guard, ward, esp. by night, φυλακῆς μνήσασθε keep watch and ward, Il. 7. 371; so, φυλακὰς ἔχειν 9.1, 471; φ. κατέχειν Eur. Tro. 194; but, φυλακὴ ἔχει αὐτόν watching engages him, Hes. Fr. 47. 7; φΦ. νυκ- τερίνη Ar. Vesp.2; proverb., γυμνῷ φυλακὴν ἐπίταττε tell an unarmed man to stand on the defensive, i.e. to give commands that cannot be obeyed, Pherecr. Tup. 4, Philem. “Apr.1; ὅπως ἀφανὴς εἴη ἡ φ. that there might be nothing visible to watch (μὴ ὄντος πλοίου φανεροῦ follows), Thuc. 4. 67; φυλακὴν τῶν τειχῶν ἔρημον καταλιπεῖν Lycurg. 150. 4; φυλακὴν φυλάττειν to keep watch and ward, Xen. An. 2. 6, 10, Plat. Legg. 758D; τὴν ἐν θαλάττῃ φ. φυλάττειν Dem. 80. 8; φ. ποιεῖν Xen. An. 5. 7, 31; τὰς φ. ποιεῖσθαι Lys. 121. 27, Xen. An. 6. 3, 21; ἰσχυρὰς φ. ποι- εἶσθαι Id. Cyr. 1.6, 37; φυλακὰς καταστήσασθαι, κατασκευάσασθαι Ar. Ay. 841, Xen. Hell. 7. 2, 23, etc.; (for φυλακάς Mss. often give φύλα- Kas). 2. a watch or guard, of persons, like Lat. custodia for custos or custodes (Liv. 6.1), Plat. Prot. 321 Ὁ, Xen., etc.; 7 Tov σώματος φ. ἃ body guard, Dem. 622. 7, Dinarch. 91.15, cf. Wolf Lept. p. 326; ἡ περὲ τὸ σῶμα Xen. Cyr. 7.5,58:—a guard or garrison of a place or fortress, Hdt. 2.30; ἡ ἐν τῇ Ναυπάκτῳ ¢., of a squadron of ships, Thuc. 7. 17, cf. Xen. Hell. 1. 1, 22. b. the rank of φύλακες, Plat. Rep. 415 C. 3. of place, a watch, station, post, 1]. το. 408, 416, Xen. Hell. 5. 4, 49; φυλακὰς προλιπών Eur. Rhes. 18. 4. of time, a watch of the night, ἐπεὰν τῆς νυκτὸς ἢ) φ. δευτέρη Hdt. 9. 51; φυλακαῖσι νυκτέροισιν Eur. Rhes. 765; φ. νυκτερινὰς καθιστάναι Xen. Cyr. 1. 6, 43 :—of these there were ¢hree, acc. to Eust.; but five are mentioned in Stesich. 52, Simon. 221, Eur. Rhes. 543; and the Roman division was four, Ev. Matth. 14. 25, Suid. 5. a place for keeping others in, a ward, prison, Anth. P. 11. 276; βάλλειν τινὰ εἰς φ. Ev. Matth. 18. 30, cf. 5. 25; ἐν φυλακῇ θέσθαι τινά Ib. 14. 3. ΤΙ. a watching, guarding, keeping, preserving, whether for security or custody, ἔχειν τινὰ ἐν φυ- λακῇ Hdt.1. 24; ἐν φυλακῇ ἀδέσμῳ ἔχειν τινά Thuc. 3. 34; ἐν φυλα- κῇσι μεγάλῃσι ἔχειν τι Hdt. 2. 90, cf. Pind. P. 4. 134; τὸν Ἰσθμὸν ἐν φυλακῇ ἔχειν to keep the Isthmus guarded or occupied, Hdt. 7. 207., 8. 40; less usual, τὸν τῆς γχώσσης χαρακτῆρα ἐν φυλακῇ ἔχειν to preserve the same character of language, Id. 1. 57; τὰ παρὰ πᾶσιν ἐν πλείστῃ φυλακῇ, παῖδας καὶ γυναῖκας Dem. 300. ΤΟ; so too, ἐν φ. ἔχειν νόον Theogn. 439, cf. Blomf. Pers. 598; διὰ φυλακῆς ἔχειν or ποιεῖσθαί τι, Thue. 7. 8., 8. 39; φυλακὴν ποιεῖσθαί Twos Hdt. 2. 154, Antipho 115. 73; στόματος φυλακὴν κατασχεῖν Aesch. Ag. 235 ---φυλακὴν ἔχειν, = φυλάττεσθαι, to keep guard, be on the watch, περί τινα Hdt. τ. 39; φ. ἔχει εἴ πως δυναίμην .. Ib. 38; φ. ἔχειν μὴ .. Thuc. 2. 69; δεινῶς ἦσαν ἐν φυλακῇσι were straitly on their guard, Hdt. 3. 152, cf. Aesch. Pers. 592. 2. guardianship, Arist. Pol. 5. 9, 5. 3. a safe- guard, τὴν μεγίστην φυλακὴν ἀναΐρειν τῆς πόλεως its chief safe- guard, Andoc. 31. 32, cf. Isocr. 224 A, Lys. 174. 18, Arist. Pol. 5. Tez III. (from Med.) precaution, πολλῆς φ. ἔργον Plat. Rep. 537D; φ. θαυμαστῆς δεῖσθαι Id. Legg. 906 A, al.; v. διαμέλ- Anois. 2. c. gen. precaution against, εὐλάβεια φυλακὴ κακοῦ Def. Plat. 413 C; ὑποψίας φυλακὴν ποιεῖσθαι Antipho 115. 7.—Cf. φρουρά throughout.

• From Lit: A Memoir (2009)

  I suspect a trap, I say. Like those ladies at the meeting. They’re always offering to take care of Dev if I need help. This bothers you? Joan says. One of your big grumbles is how no one helps with your son. Warren helps more and more, the more incompetent I get. I got more accomplished when I drank, actually. At this point in your life, you don’t know how not to drink yet. No alcoholic does. It takes training. I watch the yellow leaves blow down the street and eventually say, Maybe those women want to kidnap Dev, even. Joan shakes her head and grins. Now that I’ve begun to say aloud what I actually think, head-shaking is a common response. She says, You spend way too much time alone. Cut off as I felt from Warren before I quit drinking, it’s worse sober. Now everything he does just irritates the shit out of me. I say, The only time I connect with people is away from Warren. That can’t be good. You told me yourself, Joan says, how weighed down with school he is—plus work, plus your three-year-old. Give getting sober a chance. Try not to make any big moves. The only way I know to arrive at balance in my choices is through prayer. Like I get on my knees and say to the air molecules, Do I get divorced—and some note with yes or no gets lowered down to eye level, suspended on a fishhook. If you need God with skin on, go to your group and ask the first person you see. You want me to go to this group of virtual strangers and ask whoever I see first whether to stay married or not, then do what they say? If you get miserable enough, you’ll start taking suggestions. But I didn’t share my difficulties, and I didn’t pray, and a month later, I got drunk. 24AfflictionAffliction makes God appear to be absent for a time, more absent than a dead man, more absent than light in the utter darkness of a cell. A kind of horror submerges the whole soul. During this absence, there is nothing to love. —Simone Weil, “The Love of God and Affliction” I had not planned to get drunk. Ninety days without a drink, I was slated to read poems at Harvard College. This is—for a poet with a shiny new book being ignored for two years all over the planet—a big deal. Still, I inwardly shrink at the prospect of standing without numbing agent before an audience who would see through my thin skin to a rapidly agitating heart muscle. (Was Warren’s not being there due to the perennial unaffordable babysitter? Or did I discourage it? Or did he have a paper to work on? So much between us is blotted out.)

• From The Tides of Lust (1973)

  The boy kept shrieking, jerked left, then slipping right, while she did something to him inside. “Hey, boy!” From deck the captain, arms folded on the rail, gazed down the side of the boat. Robby opened his mouth. What wanted to become speech dissolved. The fog drifted on his blunted tongue. A dog barked in the city. “Hey there, boy! What you doing out here tonight? Rumors going out what you got yourself into some trouble,” and laughter followed into the fog. Robby blinked against the chill. Night’s vapors coiled between them to blur the buck. “Some people are saying you messed up one of this town’s more respectable young ladies” Memories confused themselves in Robby’s mind. Something raged in him and would take no name. He stepped back again, trying to speak. He was still shivering. Something coursed through, leaving a burning in his joints, setting a slow rage in his belly. “Come on up here.” Robby stepped on the plank. His boot hit a cross rib and he stopped. Flecks of light sped the water. “You think it’s a good idea for you just to be hanging around like this?” The captain reached under his shirt to scratch. “We’ll be pulling out of here come dawn.” From among the houses came a fit of canine wailing. The captain looked up. Then his eyes returned to Robby “You going to come aboard, boy?” Robby stepped on the boat. “What . . .” and had to back off the word to get voice. “. . . what do you want me to do . . . Captain.” The captain frowned. “I’ll do anything you want me to, Captain” The sound kept roughening, snagging on harsher sounds. And there was the metallic backing of hysteria. Robby looked at the deck. “Anything?” “You tell me to do something. I don’t care. I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” He began to raise his eyes. “. . . do it!” The black, bare feet on the grey boards; the heavy chain on the right ankle; the frayed denim cuffs—the seam on the left had torn halfway up the calf—and the knees, grey, and baggy; Robby’s eyes reached the second baggy place, high on the thigh. His heart drummed. His armpits greased with sweat. He watched the captain slip one thumb through a belt loop: the dark fingers arched on the lap. Did what was in the pants leg move? The captain laughed. “You sure as shit look like you would!” Robby’s jaw hurt, and he was very cold. His vision kept blurring with veils and wild glistenings. He forced out, “Tell me . . .” and his belly had become water. He thought he was falling, thought he was rising. “Come on down with us to the cabin.”

• From The Tides of Lust (1973)

  She had to shift her feet apart on the wet wood. He covered her mouth, pushed his tongue in her mouth. He lifted her breast again and again so that her nipple rubbed his palm. Then his fingers made bars about her head as he searched her throat with his tongue With one hand he took her buttocks, and bent his knees to push his cock on her hair, and pushed harder. She touched the tight hair at his groin; her fingertip felt a drop of her own juice trickle. He shoved and she slipped around him. She held his head, while he turned it back and forth, rasping her palms with his hair. Her buttocks came away from the cold rail. His warm fingers moved down them. The weight of him bent her—she started to slip. He caught her and took her down on the wet boards. A stray cord made a hard line under one shoulder. She pushed her tongue beside his, beneath his, moved it beneath his lips covering. He pulled her up against him, got his hand under her and pushed away the twine, while the weight on her took all breath out of her before his thrust; she gasped beneath it. Her knees wagged beside his hips, and she pushed back. Somebody else, vaguely she knew, kneeling over them: “Hey there, boy. How about lettin’ your pappy get his old black hog-sticker in the other end of that.” And a stronger hand, warm between her and the deck. “Yeah, that’s it, honey.” Robby’s fists hang in his pockets like warm rocks against his loins; he walks the dock trying to define what had been loosed in him. His stomach hurts. The fog licks his neck, dampens his shirt, gives him bad memories. The billows disappear before him, close behind, and the long sounds of the dock roll around. A breeze picks up the short hairs from his neck and kisses him like a corpse. In quiet storms mists swirled the lamps. He looked at the boats, shifting, listing at one another. Nets hung from raised cranes; weathered floats swung between reefs of chain. Rope and cable sang along the outriggers. He could make out names: Dawn Star . . . Laocoon . . . catherine . . . Black Lightning. And the faintest flicker from The Scorpion’s portal. He took his fists from his pockets; cold washed his groin. But it was the laughter, it was the glass breaking, that stopped him. Gingerly he went to the dock. Inside, one shutter obscured half the glass, but as he hooked his fingers on the curved ledge (the gentling of the boat tugged his wrists) someone inside knocked against it and it swung away! The face of one of the colored women kept brushing the glass.

• From The Tides of Lust (1973)

  But I didn’t want to.” Eyes down, up quickly. “Sometimes I think considering the world in classically theological strictures is a waste of . . . ” She looked around the room. “I shouldn’t say things like that here. It’s meaningless.” After another moment “One night when we were having coffee together, she told me I should come to The Hall of Mirrors some evening when I felt . . . disillusioned with theology.” “She didn’t give you a chance, did she? The urges are practically the same. If you’re not in the mood for one, you can be pretty sure the other won’t sit too well.” “I think I should go . . .” faltering before him. “. . . and see Father Michael, now.” “Perhaps you can convince him to try the Mirrors —I’m sorry; again. Really, I don’t disapprove of you.” He let his meshed fingers part over his navel. “I . . .” breathing now “don’t think you do.” She almost . . . no, it was still a sad expression. She backed between the tables and the bar; at the door her hands went to her hair again. “You don’t have . . . ?” Proctor turned up his hands and shook his head. “Oh,” and may have even smiled, may even have begun another word. Niger barked. She pushed quickly out the door. Niger barked again, ran forward. His forepaws hit the frosted glass. “Hey, boy!” Proctor stood. The chair overturned. Niger barked in silhouette. “Come back here, boy!” Proctor started between the tables. From the top of the stairs, the captain’s voice: “Quiet, Niger! come on up here!” Another bark. Niger wheeled back, dodged the table legs, and lolloped up the stairs. Proctor walked after him. “What was wrong with the little redheaded one who ran out of here like that? She all right?” called from the dark. Proctor stopped on the bottom step. “I don’t think she quite knew what she was getting into.” “Too bad, Doctor. Thought she might catch number seven.” Proctor looked at his hand on the banister, pondered the age of his flesh. “So did I.” He looked up again. “Any closer, Captain?” Laughter of suede, laughter of velvet. A dog barking. On the balls of his feet, Proctor padded up. There was less and less sawdust on each step. He squinted. Nig raised his head. “Hey, Dove—” Dove opened his eyes. “Now what’s that hippin’ it down the street over there by the—” “—church . . . !” Dove pulled on his belt. Nig stood. His hand moved under the broken pants buttons. Dove watched. “Hey, nigger, do them little titties and all that red hair she got hanging down her head get to you?” “Motherfucker—” The dark wrist went in. Dove looked back across the street. Bone hard fingers held flesh, blood-hard through his pants; his hand burned. “Yeah—” “Dove . . . oh, baby, go over there and get it for me.”