<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0018.tlg023.1st1K-eng1:143-144</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0018.tlg023.1st1K-eng1:143-144</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text><body><div type="translation" n="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0018.tlg023.1st1K-eng1" xml:lang="eng"><div type="textpart" subtype="section" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0018.tlg023.1st1K-eng1" n="143"><p>But what is it that I am saying? The appearance and idea of a present good, or of one that is accounted such, rouses up and excites the soul which was previously in a state of tranquillity, and raises it to a high degree of elation, like a light suddenly flashing before the eyes; and this passion of the soul is called pleasure.


</p></div><div type="textpart" subtype="section" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0018.tlg023.1st1K-eng1" n="144"><p>But the contrary to good is evil, which, when it forces its way in, and inflicts a mortal wound, immediately fills the soul against its will with depression and despondency; and the name of the passion is sorrow.</p></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>