The Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, is seen as the beginning of modern depravity.
Umberto EcoRead
When men stop believing in God, it isn't that they then believe in nothing: they believe in everything.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that losing faith in God leads to a broader belief system rather than a void of belief.
Umberto Eco's quote reflects the idea that when people abandon traditional religious faith, they do not necessarily become nihilistic or lose their capacity for belief. Instead, they might seek meaning in a diverse array of ideologies, beliefs, or even secular philosophies, suggesting a shift towards a more pluralistic worldview that embraces a multitude of ideas and values.
In practice
During a discussion on spirituality in a philosophy class.
The Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, is seen as the beginning of modern depravity.
I think that at a certain age, say fifteen or sixteen, poetry is like masturbation. But later in life good poets burn their early poetry, and bad poets publish it. Thankfully I gave up rather quickly.
But why do some people support [the heretics]?" "Because it serves their purposes, which concern the faith rarely, and more often the conquest of power." "Is that why the church of Rome accuses all its adversaries of heresy?" "That is why, and that is also why it recognizes as orthodoxy any heresy it can bring back under its own control or must accept because the heresy has become too strong.
You die, but most of what you have accumulated will not be lost; you are leaving a message in a bottle.
"Then we are living in a place abandoned by God," I said, disheartened. "Have you found any places where God would have felt at home?" William asked me, looking down from his great height.
The lunatic is all idée fixe, and whatever he comes across confirms his lunacy. You can tell him by the liberties he takes with common sense, by his flashes of inspiration, and by the fact that sooner or later he brings up the Templars.
Get into the habit of dealing with God about everything.
No matter how long we exist, we have our memories. Points in time which time itself cannot erase. Suffering may distort my backward glances, but even to suffering, some memories will yield nothing of their beauty or their splendor. Rather they remain as hard as gems.
My life is not this steeply sloping hour, in which you see me hurrying. Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree; I am only one of my many mouths, and at that, the one that will be still the soonest. I am the rest between two notes, which are somehow always in discord because Death’s note wants to climb over— but in the dark interval, reconciled, they stay there trembling. And the song goes on, beautiful.
Men seldom, or rather never for a length of time and deliberately, rebel against anything that does not deserve rebelling against.
Ambition and hatred are enough to bring Iraq and al Qaeda together.
If Zen has any preference it is for glass that is plain, has no color, and is "just glass."
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