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Ponia Delovėj by Virginia Woolf
Ponia Delovėj by Virginia Woolf












Ponia Delovėj by Virginia Woolf

The word was inherited in classical Greek with the same meaning. Potnia is attested in the Linear B script in Mycenean Greek: 𐀡𐀴𐀛𐀊 po-ti-ni-ja. Latin ho spēs, "host", Sanskrit páti-, "master", "husband", fem. Its hypothetical Proto-Indo-European (PIE) form * pot-nih a-, "mistress", "lady", "wife", is the feminine counterpart to *pótis, "husband" cf.

Ponia Delovėj by Virginia Woolf

Potnia ( Greek: πότνια, "mistress") is a poetic title of honour, used chiefly in addressing females, whether goddesses or women its masculine analogue is posis ( πόσις). Karl Kerenyi identifies Kore with the nameless "Mistress of the labyrinth", who probably presided over the palace of Knossos in Minoan Crete. She was later conflated with Kore ( Persephone), "the maiden", the goddess of the Eleusinian Mysteries, in a life-death rebirth cycle which leads the neophyte from death into life and immortality. A similar word is the title Despoina, "the mistress", which was given to the nameless chthonic goddess of the mysteries of Arcadian cult. The word was inherited by Classical Greek from Mycenean Greek with the same meaning and it was applied to several goddesses. Potnia is an Ancient Greek word for "Mistress, Lady" and a title of a goddess. V.Artemis Orthia in the stance of Potnia Theron on an archaic ivory ( National Archaeological Museum of Athens) I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You see I can't even write this properly. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. “Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again.














Ponia Delovėj by Virginia Woolf