The greatest art is only to separate it from its tissue ...
For it [the soul] nothing mortal suffices,
Yea, the pleasure of the gods cannot diminish a thirst
That only the fountain quenches. So my friends
That which other mortals lures like a fly on the hook
To sweet destruction
Because of a lack of higher discriminative art
Becomes for the truly wise
A Pegasus to supramundane travel.
But the poets usually speak only in figures. I will therefore rest satisfied with this one example.