Literary notes about compose (AI summary)
In literature the word "compose" appears with remarkably diverse nuances, from the literal process of constructing or arranging parts to the more figurative act of achieving calm or creative ingenuity. In scientific or technical contexts it describes the way elements together form a coherent structure, as when angles or parts of a whole integrate into a larger system ([1], [2], [3]). In artistic and literary settings the term is used to denote the creative process of writing music, poems, or prose, underscoring the act of crafting something new ([4], [5], [6]). At the same time, it often serves as advice or a command to regain one's equanimity, urging a person to "compose" or settle oneself after emotional turmoil ([7], [8], [9]). This variety in usage reflects the word’s broad application in expressing both physical construction and inner order.
- Trihedral angle.—The sum of any two of the plane angles which compose a trihedral angle is always greater than the third.
— from The Declaration of Independence of the United States of America by Thomas Jefferson - For this is the nature of parts—that by their difference they compose one body.
— from The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius - The characteristic social phenomenon is just this control by the group as a whole of the individuals that compose it.
— from Introduction to the Science of Sociology by E. W. Burgess and Robert Ezra Park - I was now filled with a desire to compose, as I had before been to write verse.
— from My Life — Volume 1 by Richard Wagner - I don't yet know the title of the opera that I am to compose at Milan.
— from The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart — Volume 01 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - No day passed in which I did not compose amorous verses.
— from Letters of Abelard and Heloise by Peter Abelard and Héloïse - I walked to the window to compose myself.
— from The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins - “Compose yourself,” said I. He turned a dreadful smile to me, and as if with the decision of despair, plucked away the sheet.
— from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson - Here I sit gasping for breath, and struggling to compose myself.
— from The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
