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Flow, Rest, Inertial Motion: Wilner, Di Piero, Bonnefoymyself as I recall it, and say the poem over to myself, half out loud. Like a melody, a poem is never all there at once: we must run through it. Yet in many respects time is inimical to discourse: its irresistible, irrevocable flow, the river of time, carries us all away. A poem cannot be merely tem

采納

Troping Towards the Transcendental: Napier, Newton, Leibniztion. The middle term, setting number and figure into unprecedented relation, was the kind of algebraic equation we remember from high school: a few variables, a few constants, positive whole number exponents, a finite number of terms: something like a..?+?b..?=?c. Descartes was quite finitist: he c

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團結(jié)