Kinney 1 Book of Quotations on Rhetoric Nearly 2,000 years ago, in the Institutio oratoria, the Roman rhetorician Quintilian undertook to catalogue what he believed were the more significant definitions of rhetoric. Some 3,000 words later, he concluded, “there has grown up a perverse desire in writers of textbooks [on rhetoric] never to formulate anything in words which some predecessor has used. I shall have no such pretensions.” Indeed, Quintilian borrowed his definition—the science of speaking well— from Marcus Cato. Although Quintilian opted out of this “perverse desire,” it has continued unabatedly. If anything, the practice of defining and redefining the term rhetoric has intensified in recent years. In 1828, when Richard Whately sought to repeat Quintilian’s undertaking, he explained, in words that could be echoed today, “To enter into an examination of all the definitions [of rhetoric] that have been given, would lead to much uninteresting and uninstructive verbal controversy.” Undoubtedly, this obsession with definitions, taxonomies, and just words in general— copiousness, Erasmus calls it—has made rhetoric an art that is hard to master. Yet, as Kenneth Burke reminds us, “a definition the critic’s equivalent of a lyric, or of an aria in opera.” Hence, copiousness is the hallmark of rhetoric. And while it may be one of rhetoric’s greatest weaknesses, it is also one of its greatest strengths. For better or worse, rhetoric is an example of what philosopher W. B. Gallie calls an “essentially contested concept.” Sappho (ca. 6th Century BCE) “Whom has Persuasion to bring round now “to your love? Who, Sappho, is unfair to you? For, let her run, she will soon run after; “if she won’t accept gifts, she will one day give them; and if she won’t love you—she soon will “love, although unwillingly...” Source: Sappho, “Prayer to My Lady of Paphos,” Sappho: A New Translation. Trans. Mary Barnard. Berkeley: U of California P, 1958. 38. Sappho (ca. 6th Century BCE) Aphrodite’s daughter, you cheat mortals. Source: Sappho, “Persuasion,” Sappho: A New Translation. Trans. Mary Barnard. Berkeley: U of California P, 1958. 65. Corax (ca. 476 BCE) [Rhetoric is] the demiourgos, or artificer, of persuasion. Source: Quoted in George A. Kennedy, The Art of Persuasion in Greece. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1963. 61. Gorgias (ca. 414 BCE) Speech is a powerful lord that with the smallest and most invisible body accomplished most godlike works. It can banish fear and remove grief and instill pleasure and enhance pity. [. .] Copyright © 2002-2007 Thomas J. Kinney. All Rights Reserved. http://www.u.arizona.edu/~tkinney Kinney 2 Divine sweetness transmitted through words is inductive of pleasure, reductive of pain. Thus, by entering into the opinion of the soul the force of incantation is wont to beguile and persuade and alter it by witchcraft, and the two arts of witchcraft and magic are errors of the soul and deceivers of opinion. Source: Gorgias, “Encomium of Helen.” On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse. Trans. George A. Kennedy. New York. Oxford UP, 1991. 286. Gorgias (ca. 414 BCE) The power of speech has the same effect on the condition of the soul as the application of drugs to the state of bodies; for just as different drugs dispel different fluids from the body, and some bring an end to disease but others end life, so also some speeches cause pain, some pleasure, some fear; some instill courage, some drug and bewitch the soul with a kind of evil persuasion. Source: Gorgias, “Encomium of Helen.” On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse. Trans. George A. Kennedy. New York. Oxford UP, 1991. 287. Dissoi logoi (ca. 403-395 BCE) I consider it a characteristic of the same man and of the same art to be able to converse in brief questions and answers to know the truth of things, to plead one’s cause correctly, to be able to speak in public, to have an understanding of argument-skills, and to teach people about nature of everything—both how everything is and how it came into being. First of all, will not the man who knows about the nature of everything also be able to act rightly in regard to everything? Furthermore the man acquainted with the skills involved in argument will also know how to speak correctly on every topic. For the man who intends to speak correctly must speak on the topics of which he has knowledge; and he will, one must at any rate suppose, have knowledge of everything. For he has knowledge of all argument-skills and all arguments are about everything that is. And the man who intends to speak correctly on whatever matter he speaks about must know < > and <how to> give sound advice to the city on the performance of good actions and prevent them from performing evil ones. In knowing these things he will also know the things that differ from them—since he will know everything. For these <objects of knowledge> are part of all <objects of knowledge>, and the exigency of the situation will, if need be, provide him with those <other Objects>, so as to achieve the same end. Even if he does not know how to play the flute, he will always prove able to play the flute should the situation ever call for his doing this. And the man who knows how to plead his cause must have a correct understanding of what is just; for that is what legal cases have to do with. And in knowing this he will know both that which is the contrary of it, and the <other things?> different in kind <from it?>. He must also know all the laws. If, however, he is going to have no knowledge of the facts, he will have no knowledge of the laws either. For who is it knows the rules (laws) of music? The man acquainted with music. Whereas the man unacquainted with music is also unacquainted with the rules that govern it. At any rate, if a man knows the truth of things, the argument follows without difficulty that he knows everything. As for the man who is able to converse in brief questions and answers, he must under questioning give answers on every subject. So he must have knowledge of every subject. Source: Contrasting Arguments: An Edition of the “Dissoi Logoi.” Ed. and trans. T. M. Robinson. New York: Arno, 1979. 137, 139, 141. Isocrates (353 BCE) But since we have the ability to persuade one another and to make dear to ourselves what we want, not only do we avoid living like animals, but we have come together, built cities, made laws, and invented arts. Speech is responsible for nearly all our inventions. It legislated in matters of justice and injustice and beauty and baseness, and without these laws, we could not live with one another. By it we refute the bad and praise the good; through it, we educate the ignorant and recognize the intelligent. We regard speaking well to be the clearest sign of a good Copyright © 2002-2007 Thomas J. Kinney. All Rights Reserved. http://www.u.arizona.edu/~tkinney Kinney 3 mind, which it requires, and truthful, lawful, and just speech we consider the image of a good and faithful soul. With speech we fight over contentious matters, and we investigate the unknown. We use the same arguments by which we persuade others in our own deliberations; we call those able to speak in a crowd “rhetorical”; we regard as sound advisers those who debate with themselves most skillfully about public affairs. If one must summarize the power of discourse, we will discover that nothing done prudently occurs without speech, that speech is the leader of all thoughts and actions, and that the most intelligent people use it most of all. Source: Isocrates, Antidosis. Isocrates I. Trans. David C. Mirhady and Yun Lee Too. Austin. U of Texas P, 2000. 251- 52. Plato (ca. 4th Century BCE) SOCRATES: O Menexenus! Death in battle is certainly in many respects a noble thing. The dead man gets a fine and costly funeral, although he may have been poor, and an elaborate speech is made over him by a wise man who has long ago prepared what he has to say, although he who is praised may not have been good for much. The speakers praise him for what he has done and for what he has not done—that is the beauty of them—and they steal away our souls with their embellished words. In every conceivable form they praise the city, and they praise those who died in war, and all our ancestors who went before us, and they praise ourselves also who are still alive, until I feel quite elevated by their laudations, and I stand listening to their words, Menexenus, and become enchanted with them, and all in a moment I imagine myself to have become a greater and nobler and finer man than I was before. And if, as often happens, there are any foreigners who accompany me to the speech, I become suddenly conscious of having a sort of triumph over them, and they seem to experience a corresponding feeling of admiration at me, and at the greatness of the city, which appears to them, when they are under the influence of the speaker, more wonderful than ever. This consciousness of dignity lasts me more than three days, and not until the fourth or fifth day do I come to my senses and know where I am—in the meantime I have been living in the Islands of the Blessed.