For those things are not
transmitted into the memory, but their images only are with an
admirable swiftness caught up, and stored as it were in wondrous
cabinets, and thence wonderfully by the act of remembering, brought
forth.
But now when I hear that there be three kinds of questions, "Whether
the thing be? what it is? of what kind it is? I do indeed hold the
images of the sounds of which those words be composed, and that
those sounds, with a noise passed through the air, and now are not.
But the things themselves which are signified by those sounds, I never
reached with any sense of my body, nor ever discerned them otherwise
than in my mind; yet in my memory have I laid up not their images, but
themselves. Which how they entered into me, let them say if they
can; for I have gone over all the avenues of my flesh, but cannot find
by which they entered. For the eyes say, "If those images were
coloured, we reported of them." The ears say, "If they sound, we
gave knowledge of them." The nostrils say, "If they smell, they passed
by us.
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