Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind, which are delivered down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn.
Joseph Addison (1672-1719) English essayist, poet, statesman The Spectator #166 (1711-09-10)
(Source)
All passions exaggerate; it is only because they exaggerate that they are passions.
[Toutes les passions sont exagératrices, et elles ne sont des passions que parce qu’elles exagèrent.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch) Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionée], Part 1 “Maxims and Thoughts [Maximes et Pensées],” ch. 1, ¶ 72 (1795) [tr. Mathers (1926)]
(Source)
For of old Rome said to me — “Your readers are your gold.
By them the stream of Lethe you’ll survive, By them the better part of you will live.”
The wild fig splits Messalla’s marbles through, And Crispus’ steeds are shattered quite in two :
But books are helped by time nor hurt by thieves, Memorials that death uninjured leaves.
[Quem cum mihi Roma dedisset.
“Nil tibi quod demus maius habemus” ait.
“Pigra per hunc fugies ingratae flumina Lethes
Et meliore tui parte superstes eris.
Marmora Messallae findit caprificus, et audax
Dimidios Crispi mulio ridet equos:
At chartis nec furta nocent et saecula prosunt,
Solaque non norunt haec monumenta mori.”]
Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis] Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 10, epigram 2 (10.2) [tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]
(Source)
Reader, my wealth; whom when to me Rome gave, Nought greater to bestow (quoth she) I have.
By him ingratefull Lethe thou shalt flye, And in thy better part shalt never dye.
Wilde Fig-trees rend Messalla's Marbles off; Crispus halfe-horses the bold Carters scoffe.
Writings no age can wrong, no thieving hand. Deathlesse alone those Monuments will stand.
[tr. May (1629)]
When Fate to me a constant reader gave; Receive, she said, the greatest boon I have.
By this beyond oblivion's stream arrive; And in your better party by this survive.
Statues may moulder; and the clown unbred Scoff at young Ammon's horse without his head.
But finish'd writings theft and time defy; The only monument, which cannot die.
[tr. Hay (1755)]
Reader, our riches! Well, said, Rome, I know, A blester boon I have not to bestow.
By this though thro' Lethean streams shalt strive, And in thy better part shalt still survive.
The wilding may Messala's marble cleave, The speaker silence, and the sculptor reave.
The mule's pert driver may reproachless laugh, At Crispus' coursers dwindled down to half.
Wit's labors onely rape or age defy: His monuments alone can never die.
[tr. Elphinston (1782)]
When Rome gave you [readers] to me, she said, "I have nothing greater to give you. By his means you will escape the sluggish waves of ungrateful Lethe, and will survive in the better part of yourself. The marble tomb of Messale is split by the wild fig, and the audacious muleteer laughs at the mutilated horses of the statue of Crispus.1 But as for writings, they are indestructible either by thieves or the ravages of time; such monuments alone are proof against death."
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]
For when Rome had given you to me, she said: We have nothing greater to give you. By him will you escape unthankful Lethe's sluggish stream, and will in your better part survive. Messalla's marble the wild-fig sunders, and boldly the mule-driver laughs at Crispus' steeds broken in two. But writings thefts do not injure, and time befriends them, and alone these monuments know not death."
[tr. Ker (1919)]
Rome can tell how dear, Who gave thee, saying, "Take my best; 'tis here;
By him ungrateful Lethe thou shallt flee And thy best parts have immortality."
The fig-tree splits Messala's marble blocks, And the rough drover draggled Crispus mocks.
Verses grow great with Time and Fate defy; Such monuments alone can never die.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 508]
When Rome gave you to me, she said: "I have nothing greater to give you. through him you will escape ungrateful Lethe's idle waters and survive in the better part of yourself. The fig tree splits Messalla's marble, the bold muleteer laughs at Crispus' halved horses. But thefts do not harm paper and the centuries do it good. These are the only memorials that cannot die."
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]
Reader, Patron, willed to me by Rome saying: "No greater gift! Through him
You'll flee neglectful Lethe's stagnant flood -- the better part of you survive.
Wild-fig rives the marble, heedless muleteers deride the busted steeds of bronze.
But verse no decrease knows, time adds to verse, deathless alone of monuments."
[tr. Whigham (1985), "Rome's Gift"]
Innumerable are the illusions and legerdemain-tricks of Custom: but of all these, perhaps the cleverest is her knack of persuading us that the Miraculous, by simple repetition, ceases to be Miraculous.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian Sartor Resartus, Book 3, ch. 8 (1831)
(Source)
I never diskuss politiks nor sektarianism; i beleave in letting every man fight hiz rooster hiz own way.
[I never discuss politics nor [religious] sectarianism; I believe in letting every man fight his rooster his own way.]
Josh Billings (1818-1885) American humorist [pseud. of Henry Wheeler Shaw] Everybody’s Friend, Or; Josh Billing’s Encyclopedia and Proverbial Philosophy of Wit and Humor, “Affurisms,” “Plum Pits” (1874)
(Source)
Without the Way, there is no going;
Without the Truth, there is no knowing;
Without the Life, there is no living.
[Sine via non itur;
sine veritate non cognoscitur;
sine vita non vivitur.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 3, ch. 56, v. 1 (3.56.1) (c. 1418-27) [ed. Parker (1841)]
(Source)
The voice of Christ commenting on His own words in John 14:6, "I am the way, the truth, and the life."
These precise words are most common translation over the years, also rendered (with varying punctuation and capitalization) by Bagster (1860), Anon. (1901), Croft/Bolton (1940), Daplyn (1952), and Creasy (1989).
Without a way no man may go, and without the truth no man may know, and without life no man may live.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
Without a way, no man can go; without the truth, no man can know; and without life no man can live
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]
Without the Way can be no Walking; without the Truth no knowledge; without the Life no Living.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.), ch. 61]
Without the way which I have opened, thou canst not return to paradise ; without the truth which I communicate, thou canst not know the way; and without the life which I quicken, thou canst not obey the truth.
[tr. Payne (1803), ch. 44]
Without the way, there is no journeying; without truth, there is no knowledge; without life, there is no living.
[tr. Dibdin (1851), 3.51.1]
Without the way thou canst not go, without the truth thou canst not know, without the life thou canst not live.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
Without the Way, there is no progress; without the Truth, there is no knowledge; without the Life, there is no living.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
Without a way, a road, there can be no going along it; without truth, no object of knowledge; without life, no living.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
Without the way, there is no travelling, without the truth, no knowing, without the life, no living.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
Without the Way there is no journey. Without the Truth there is no knowledge. Without Life there is no living.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
I think nobody should be certain of anything. If you’re certain, you’re certainly wrong, because nothing deserves certainty, and so one ought always to hold all one’s beliefs with a certain element of doubt and one ought to be able to act vigorously in spite of the doubt.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
(Source)
An atheist doesn’t have to be someone who thinks he has a proof that there can’t be a god. He only has to be someone who believes that the evidence on the God question is at a similar level to the evidence on the werewolf question.
John McCarthy (1927-2011) American computer scientist, cognitive scientist, artificial intelligence pioneer
Usenet, rec.arts.books (1992-07-23)
(Source)
Doth any man assert that there are Gods
In Heaven? I answer there are none: let him
Who contradicts me like a fool, no longer
Quote ancient fables; but observe the fact,
Nor to my words give credence. Kings, I say.
Kill many, but rob more of their possessions.
And violating every sacred oath,
Lay waste whole cities; yet, tho’ they act thus,
Are more successful far than they who lead
In constant piety a tranquil life.
Doth some one say that there be gods above?
There are not; no, there are not. Let no fool,
Led by the old false fable, thus deceive you.
Look at the facts themselves, yielding my words
No undue credence: for I say that kings
Kill, rob, break oaths, lay cities waste by fraud,
And doing thus are happier than those
Who live calm pious lives day after day. All divinity
Is built-up from our good and evil luck.
[tr. Symonds (1876)]
Does someone say there are indeed gods in heaven? There are not, there are not, if a man is willing not to rely foolishly on the antiquated reasoning. Consider for yourselves, do not base your opinion on words of mine. I say myself that tyranny kills very many men and dprives them of their possessions; and that tyrants break their oaths to ransack cities, and in doing this they are more prosperous under heaven than men who live quietly in reverence.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]
Does anyone assert that there are gods in heaven? There are not, no, there are not, if a man is ready not to swallow whole the old tales. Think it through yourselves, do not make my words the foundation of your opinion. I declare that tyranny kills many, robs them, that tyrants break their oaths to plunder cities, yet in this they prosper more than those whose unassuming habit is true piety.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
Does anyone say there are gods in heaven? There are not, there are not, unless one wishes to follow ancient wisdom like a fool. [...] I say that tyranny kills many people, deprives possessions, circumvents oaths, and plunders cities. And even though they do these things, they are more fortunate than those living piously day to day in peace.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]
Is there anyone who thinks there are gods in heaven?
There are not. There are not, for any man who wishes
Not to be a fool and trust some ancient story.
Look at it yourselves, don’t make up your mind
Because of my words. I think that tyranny
Kills so many men and steals their possessions
And that men break their oaths by sacking cities.
But the men who do such things are more fortunate
Than those who live each day piously, at peace.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
People ask: Do gods really exist in heaven? No, they do not exist, they really don’t; if any of mankind wishes to avoid being the sort of fool who follows the ancient story. Consider it for yourselves, don’t take my word for it. I say that tyranny destroys multitudes and confiscates their possessions; oath-breakers sack cities; and yet, those who do such things are far more prosperous than those who, day by day, live devoutly and in peace.
[tr. Emerson]
Nature never said to me: Do not be poor; still less did she say: Be rich; her cry to me was always: Be independent.
[La Nature ne m’a point dit: ne sois point pauvre; encore moins: sois riche; mais elle me crie: sois indépendant.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch) Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionée], Part 1 “Maxims and Thoughts [Maximes et Pensées],” ch. 4, ¶ 281 (1795) [tr. Mathers (1926)]
(Source)
All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Letter to Mrs. Foote (1887-12-02)
(Source)
First reprinted, upon the letter's rediscovery, in The Los Angeles Times (1930-03-16). A facsimile of the discovered letter (with the above punctuation) can be found in B. DeCasseres, When Huck Finn Went Highbrow (1934).
So now we entered on that hidden path, my lord and I, to move once more towards a shining world. We did not care to rest.
We climbed, he going first and I behind, until through some small aperture I saw the lovely things the skies above us bear.
Now we came out, and once more saw the stars.
[Lo duca e io per quel cammino ascoso intrammo a ritornar nel chiaro mondo; sanza cura aver d’alcun riposo,
salimmo sù, el primo e io secondo, tanto ch’i’ vidi de le cose belle che porta ’l ciel, per un pertugio tondo.
E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 34, l. 133ff (34.133-139) (1309) [tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
(Source)
The end of Book 1, as Virgil and Dante exit the Inferno to the other side of the world, where rises Mount Purgatory.
The word "stars" (stelle) ends each of the three books of the Divine Comedy.
My Guide and I, to the bright World attain,
Enter'd this secret path; not took repose.
We leaped up, he first, I foll'wing him;
'Till through a space round formed I beheld
Those beauteous sights which are in Heav'n display'd:
And thence we rose to view again the Stars.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 130ff]
Still up the wave-worn cliff the Mantuan press'd,
I follow'd faint, deny'd a moment's rest; 'Till dim and dubious thro' the rocks on high,
A ray of welcome light disclos'd our path;
Joyful we left the shadowy realms of death, And hail'd the op'ning glories of the sky.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 27]
By that hidden way My guide and I did enter, to return To the fair world: and heedless of repose
We climbed, he first, I following his steps, Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave:
Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
To seek return to daylight world sublime My guide and I that darksome path explored, And while he first, I second, 'gan to climb,
No care to rest us might our haste afford, Till through a rounded opening I saw plain The glorious things in part which heaven doth hoard,
And thence we rose to view the stars again.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
The Guide and I entered by that hidden road, to return to the bright world; and without caring for any rest, we mounted up, he first and I second, so far that I distinguished through a round opening the beauteous things which Heaven bears; and thence we issued out, again to see the Stars.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
The leader and myself through pathway hid Entered, returning to the world that's clear. Of no reposing had we any care:
We mounted up; he first, the second I. Through round and hollowed opening, saw afar The heave, and all the beauteous things it bore;
And then we issued to review the stars.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
My chief and I, following this hidden path, Set forth on our return to the bright world; Having no thought nor care for any rest,
Upwards we clomb, he first and second I, Till I at length through a round opening saw Those beauteous things which with the heavens revolve;
Thence we went forth once more to see the stars.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
The Guide and I into that hidden road Now entered, to return to the bright world; And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of those beauteous things which Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Through that hidden road my Leader and I entered to return into the bright world; and without having a care of any rest we mounted up, he first and I second, so far that I had sight of the fair objects which the Heaven bears, through a round opening; and thence we issued to see again the stars.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
My chief and I by that mysterious way Entered, the world of light again to find: Nor with the thought of rest did we delay,
But clambered up, he first, and I behind. Until I witnessed through that rounded bore The things so fair athwart the heavens that shined,
And issued thence to see the stars once more.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
My Leader and I entered through that hidden way, to return to the bright world. And without care, to have any repose, we mounted up, he first and I second, till through a round opening I saw of those beauteous things which heaven bears, and thence we came forth to see again the stars.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
My Guide and I went in by that darksome way that we might reach the world of light again; and unconcerned for any thought of rest, we went aloft, he first and I behind, so high that, through a rounded chink, I could behold the beauteous gems which Heaven weareth; and thence came we forth to look once more upon the stars.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
My guide and I upon that hidden pathway Entered to make return to the world of brightness ; And, without taking thought of any resting,
We mounted up, he first and I the second. So far that I had sight of things of beauty Borne on the firmament, through a round loophole:
Thence came we forth to see the starry heavens.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
The Leader and I entered on that hidden road to return into the bright world, and without caring to have any rest we climbed up, he first and I second, so far that I saw through a round opening some of the fair things that Heaven bears; and thence we can forth to see again the stars.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
The Guide and I, entering that secret road, Toiled to return into the world of light. Nor thought on any resting-place bestowed.
We climbed, he first, I following, till to sight Appeared those things of beauty that heaven wears Glimpsed through a rounded opening, faintly bright;
Thence issuing, we beheld again the stars.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
By that hid way my guide and I withal, Back to the lit world from the darkened dens Toiled upward, caring for no rest at all,
He first, I following; till my straining sense Glimpsed the bright burden of the heavenly cars Through a round hole; by this we climbed, and thence
Came forth, to look once more upon the stars.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
My Guide and I crossed over and began to mount that little known and lightless road to ascend into the shining world again.
He first, I second, without thought of rest we climbed the dark until we reached the point where a round opening brought in sight the blest
and beauteous shining of the Heavenly cars.
And we walked out once more beneath the stars.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
My leader and I entered on that hidden road to return into the bright world; and caring not for any rest, we climbed up, hie first and I second, so far that through a round opening I saw some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears; and thence we issued forth to see again the stars.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
My guide and I entered that hidden road to make our way back up to the bright world. We never thought of resting while we climbed.
We climbed, he first and I behind, until, through a small round opening ahead of us I saw the lovely things the heavens hold,
and we came out to see once more the stars.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
My guide and I came on that hidden road to make our way back into the bright world; and with no care for any rest, we climbed
he first, I following -- until I saw, through a round opening, some of those things of beauty Heaven bears. It was from there
that we emerged, to see -- once more -- the stars.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
My guide and I started out on that road, Through its obscurity to return to the bright world; And not worrying about taking any rest,
We mounted up, he first and I second, So that I saw some of the lovely things That are in the heavens, through a round opening;
And then we emerged to see the stars again.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
To get back up to the shining world from there My guide and I went into that hidden tunnel;
And following its path, we took no care To rest, but climbed: he first, then I -- so far, Through a round aperture I saw appear
Some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears,
Where we came forth, and once more saw the stars.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
My leader and I entered on that hidden path to return to the bright world; and, without taking care for rest at all, up we climbed, he first and I second, until I saw the beautiful things the heavens carry, through a round opening. And thence we came forth to look again at the stars.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
The guide and I entered by that hidden path, to return to the clear world: and, not caring to rest, we climbed up, he first, and I second, until, through a round opening, I saw the beautiful things that the sky holds: and we issued out, from there, to see, again, the stars.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
My guide and I began that hidden route to journey back into the world of light; and caring not for rest, but resolute,
we climbed and climbed until we caught a sight, beyond a rounded opening, of store on store of things of Heavenly delight;
and we emerged to see the stars once more.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Into that hidden passage my guide and I entered, to find again the world of light, and, without thinking of a moment's rest,
we climbed up, he first and I behind him, far enough to see, through a round opening, a few of those fair things the heavens bear.
Then we came forth, to see again the stars.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
My leader and I followed that unknown road, Which showed us how to return to the shining world, Nor did we stop for a moment, needing no rest,
Climbing steadily, he in the lead, I next, Ascending so far that through a circular hole I could see a few of the beautiful things in Heaven. And then we came out, and saw the stars again.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
My Guide and I were on the hidden road That leads back out to where the world is bright.
No need for rest. We bore an easy load: The task of getting back to the sweet light.
And up we went, he first, I second, to The point where I could see an opening.
And it was there I saw, when I looked through, A sight more wonderful than anything --
some of the loveliness revealed to men By Heaven. We could see the star again.
[tr. James (2013), l. 153ff]
More ease than masters, servants lives afford: Think on that, Tom; nor wish to be your lord.
On a coarse rug you most securely snore: Deep sunk in down he counts each sleepless hour.
Anxious betimes to every statesman low He bows; much lower than to him you bow.
Behold him with a dun at either ear, “Pray, pay,” the word; a word you never hear.
Fear you a cudgel? view his gouty state; Which he would change for many a broken pate.
You know no morning qualm; no costly whore: Think then, though not a lord, that you are more.
[Quae mala sint domini, quae servi commoda, nescis, Condyle, qui servum te gemis esse diu.
Dat tibi securos vilis tegeticula somnos, Pervigil in pluma Gaius, ecce, iacet.
Gaius a prima tremebundus luce salutat Tot dominos, at tu, Condyle, nec dominum.
‘Quod debes, Gai, redde’ inquit Phoebus et illinc Cinnamus: hoc dicit, Condyle, nemo tibi.
Tortorem metuis? podagra cheragraque secatur Gaius et mallet verbera mille pati.
Quod nec mane vomis nec cunnum, Condyle, lingis, Non mavis, quam ter Gaius esse tuus?]
Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis] Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 9, epigram 92 (9.92) [tr. Hay (1755)]
(Source)
Masters often think themselves more put-upon than their lazy, "carefree" servants/slaves, as do the rich versus the poor. "To Condylus" (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
The weal of a servant, and woe of his lord, Thou know'st not, who so long hast service abhorr'd.
Securest of slumbers thy coverlet crown: Thy master, my Condyl, lies watching in down.
Lords many hails he, the chill morn just begun: Thou own'st no such duty, saluting scarce one.
To him this and that wight: Pray, pay what you ow. To thee not a mortal pretends to say so.
Thou feat'st but a flogging: he's rackt with the gout. A thousand sound lashes he'd rather stand out.
Nor sick thou at morning, nor pale with disease: Who's moire, prithee, thou or thy master at ease?
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 4, Part 2, ep. 35]
Of the troubles of a master, and the pleasures of a slave, Condylus, you are ignorant, when you lament that you have been a slave so long. A common rug gives you sleep free from all anxiety; Caius lies awake all night on his bed of down. Caius, from the first dawn of day, salutes with trembling a number of patrons; you, Condylus, salute not even your master. "Caius, pay what you owe me," cries Phoebus on the one side, and Cinnamus on the other; no one makes such a demand on you, Condylus. Do you fear the torturer? Caius is a martyr to the gout in his hands and feet, and would rather suffer a thousand floggings than endure its pains. You indulge neither gluttonous nor licentious propensities. Is not this preferable to being three times a Caius?
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]
The lowliest cot will give thee powerful sleep, While Caius tosses on his bed of down.
[ed. Harbottle (1916), 9.93.3]
What are a master's ills, what a slave's blessings you do not know, Condylus, who groan that you are so long a slave. Your common rush-mat affords you sleep untoubled; wakeful all night on down, see, Gaius lies! Gaius from early morn salutes trembling many masters; but you, Condylus, not even your master. "What you owe, Gaius, pay," says Phoebus, and after him Cinnamus: this no one Condylus says to you. Do you dread the torturer? By gout in food and hand Gaius is stabbed, and would choose instead to endure a thousand blows. You do not vomit in the morning, nor are you given to filthy vice, Condylus: do you not prefer this to being your Gaius three times over?
[tr. Ker (1919)]
"How easy live the free," you say, and brood Upon your long but easy servitude.
See Gaius tossing on his downy bed; Your sleep’s unbroken tho’ the couch be rude;
He pays his call ere chilly dawn be red, You need not call on him, you sleep instead;
He’s deep in debt, hears many a summons grim From creditors that you need never dread,
You might be tortured at your master’s whim; Far worse the gout that racks his every limb;
Think of the morning qualms, his vicious moods. Would you for thrice his freedom change with him?
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921), "True Servitude"]
Condylus, you lament that you have been so long a slave; you don't know a master's afflictions and a slave's advantages. A cheap little mat gives you carefree slumbers: there's Gaius lying awake all night on feathers. From daybreak on Gaius in fear and trembling salutes so many masters: but you, Condylus, do not salute even your own. "Gaius, pay me back what you owe," says Phoebus, and from yonder so says Cinnamus: nobody says that to you, Condylus. You fear the torturer? Gaius is cut by gout in foot and hand and would rather take a thousand lashes. You don't vomit of a morning or lick a cunt, Condylus; isn't that better than being your Gaius three times over?
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]
Never the pros & cons of "slave," or "master," can you, mourning long servitude, discern.
The cheapest matting yields you dreamless sleep; Gaius's feather-bed keeps him awake.
From crack of down Gaius respectfully greets many masters; yours goes ungreeted.
"Pay day, Gaius, pay!" says Phoebus. "Pay! Pay!" chimes Cinnamus. What man speaks thus to you?
Screw & rack, you dread? Gaius' gout stabs so he'ld far prefer the thumbscrew or the rack.
You've no hangover habit, oral sex: is not one life of yours worth three of his?
[tr. Whigham (2001)]
A professor can never better distinguish himself in his work than by encouraging a clever pupil, for the true discoverers are among them, as comets amongst the stars.
Carl Linnaeus (1707-1778) Swedish botanist, zoologist, taxonomist, physician [Carl von Linné, Carolus Linnæus]
Quoted in Theodor Magnus Fries, Linnaeus, ch. 10 “Pupils” (1903) [ed./tr. B. J. Jackson (1923)]
(Source)
Philosophy complains that Custom has hoodwinked us, from the first; that we do everything by Custom, even Believe by it; that our very Axioms, let us boast of Free-thinking as we may, are oftenest simply such Beliefs as we have never heard questioned. Nay, what is Philosophy throughout but a continual battle against Custom; an ever-renewed effort to transcend the sphere of blind Custom, and so become Transcendental?
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian Sartor Resartus, Book 3, ch. 8 (1831)
(Source)
Some new path must be tried if ever I,
With wing uplifted from the level ground.
May on the public voice triumphant rise.
[Tentanda via est, qua me quoque possim
Tollere humo victorque virum volitare per ora.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] Georgics [Georgica], Book 3, l. 8ff (3.8-9) (29 BC) [tr. Williams (1915)]
(Source)
The poet's ambition. Often quoted as Alia tentanda via est ("Another way must be tried").
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
To raise my self a way must now be found,
That through all Nations I may be renown'd.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
New ways I must attempt, my groveling Name
To raise aloft, and wing my flight to Fame.
[tr. Dryden (1709), ll. 13-14]
I too from earth to lift myself will try,
And on the wings of Fame adventurous fly
[tr. Nevile (1767), ll. 11-12]
I too will boldly strive my flight to raise,
And, wing'd by victory, catch the gale of praise.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]
I, too, must attempt a way, whereby I may raise myself from the gorund, and victorious hover through the lips of men.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]
Some way I must outstrive,
To lift me also from the ground, and then
A flight of triumph on the lips of men!
[tr. Blackmore (1871), l. 10ff]
I must essay a course by which I may raise myself, like other poets, from the lowly ground, and ride triumphant on the lips of men.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]
Needs must a path be tried,
By which I too may lift me from the dust,
And float triumphant through the mouths of men.
[tr. Rhoades (1881), ll. 11-13]
Be mine the glory to ascend to fame
By paths untrodden.
[tr. King (1882)]
I must try a course whereby I also may soar aloft and hover victorious before the eyes of men.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]
A path must be adventured where I too may rise from earth and fly triumphing on the lips of men.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]
A path will I try that shall lift me above
This earth, and from lip to lip of men my triumphant flight
Will I wing.
[tr. Way (1912)]
I must essay a path whereby I, too, may rise from earth and fly victorious on the lips of men.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]
No, I must venture a theme will exalt me
From earth and give me wings and a triumph on every tongue.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]
I must find a way to soar aloft
And raise my verse above this common soil,
To fly victorious on the lips of men.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]
I must find a way to raise myself from the earth and fly victorious, my name on the lips of men.
[tr. Miles (1980)]
I must find a way
Of my own to soar above the common ground
And "fly victorious on the lips of men."
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]
I must try a path, by which I too
can rise from the earth and fly, victorious, from men’s lips.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
I must try for a new path on which I may rise from the earth and soar triumphant from the lips of men.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]
I must essay a path by which I too
may rise from earth a triumph fluttering on the lips of men.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]
I too must find
The way to rise in flight above the earth,
Triumphant on the speech of men.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]
There are a number of things that science can’t deal with. All questions of values. for example. Science won’t tell you what is good and what is bad — what is good or bad as an end, not just as a means.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
(Source)
I have always thought that all the theories of what a good play is, or how a good play should be written, are futile. A good play is a play which, when acted upon the boards, makes an audience interested and pleased. A play that fails in this is a bad play.
Maurice Baring (1874-1945) English man of letters, writer, essayist, translator Have You Anything to Declare? (1936)
(Source)
Love is swift, pure, dutiful, pleasant and agreeable; it is strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, never seeking its own advantage. For when anyone seeks that, he falls away from love.
[Est amor velox, sincerus, pius, prudens, longanimis, virilis, et seipsum nunquam quærens. Ubi enim seipsum aliquis quærit, ibi ab amore cadit.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 3, ch. 5, v. 7 (3.5.7) [Christ] (c. 1418-27) [tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
(Source)
Comparing love from God, what love toward God should be like, and an ideal of human love.
Love is swift, pure, meek, joyous and glad, strong, patient, faithful, wise, forbearing, manly, and never seeking him self or his own will ; forwhensoever a man seeketh himself, he falleth from love.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
The Love of God is nimble in its Motions, sincere in its Intentions, ardent and zealous in Devotion, sweet to the Soul, brave in Attempting, patient in Enduring, faithful in Executing, prudent in Action, slow in Resentment, generous and manly, and seeks not to please the Person's self, but the Person beloved. For, where a Man seeks his own Advantage only, there Interest, not Love, is the Principle upon which he moves.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.), 3.6]
Love is active, sincere, affectionate, pleasant and amiable ; courageous, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, and never seeking itself. For in whatever instance a person seeketh himself, there he falleth from Love.
[tr. Payne (1803), 3.4.11]
Love is active, sincere, affectionate, pleasant and amiable; courageous, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, and never seeking itself. For in whatever instance a person seeketh himself, there he falleth from Love.
[ed. Parker (1841), 3.4.7]
Love is swift, sincere, pious, pleasant, and agreeable; brave, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, and generous; and never seeketh itself; for that which seeketh itself, falls immediately from Love.
[tr. Dibdin (1851), 3.4.11]
Love is swift, sincere, pious, pleasant, and delightful; strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, courageous, and never seeking itself; for where a man seeks himself, there he falls from love.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
Love is swift, sincere, pious, pleasant, gentle, strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, and never seeking her own; for wheresoever a man seeketh his own, there he falleth from love.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
Love is active, sincere, affectionate, pleasant, and amiable; courageous, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, and never seeking itself. For in whatever instance a person seeketh himself, there he falleth from love.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]
Love is swift, sincere, kind, pleasant, and delightful. Love is strong, patient and faithful, prudent, long-suffering, and manly. Love is never self-seeking, for in whatever a person seeks himself there he falls from love.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
Love is alert, frank, duteous, cheerful and pleasing: brave, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, manly, and never seeking self. For wherever anyone seeks self, there he falls away from love.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
Love is swift, pure, tender, joyful, and pleasant. Love is strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, vigorous, and never self-seeking. For when a man is self-seeking he abandons love.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
Love is eager, sincere and kind; it is glad and lovely; it is strong, patient and faithful; wise, long-suffering and resolute; and it never seeks its own ends, for where a man seeks his own ends, he at once falls out of love.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
Love is swift, sincere, pious, pleasant and delightful. It is strong, silent, patient, trustful and wise. It is tolerant. It has a manly disregard for personal profit. The self-seeker fails in love.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Brilliance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.
Patrick (fl. AD 5th C) Romano-British Christian missionary, saint, bishop of Ireland
“The Lorica of Patrick” (attributed)
(Source)
That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form,
Will pack when it begins to rain And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry; the Fool will stay, And let the wise man fly.
The knave turns fool that runs away; The Fool, no knave, perdy.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet King Lear, Act 2, sc. 4, l. 84ff (2.4.84) [Fool] (1606)
(Source)
Perdie, perdy: "by God" (from the French par Dieu].
The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.
Brennan Manning (1934-2013) American author, laicized priest, theologian, speaker [Richard Francis Xavier Manning]
(Attributed)
Widely attributed to Manning (1, 2, 3), though I cannot find an original citation.
But what is there in man’s precarious life
To be relied on? o’er the foamy deep
Rides the swift vessel by the wind impell’d:
But as to human fortunes, Time reduces
The great to nothing, and augments the small.
Where indeed is there sureness in man's life? For swift ships the winds drive a straight path on the ocean deep, but men's fortunes are changed by the largeness of time, their greatness to nothing, while with increase for the lesser ....
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]
Where -- where --
for those that die
life’s sure foundation? If we were ships
over the depths of ocean
winds would drive us
straight.
But those that die
their fortune shifts, it veers
in twists of fate -- as Time
(slowly --– slowly) generates itself
at its own leisure
reducing what was great
to nothing – raising up
another ....
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
Michelangelo (1475-1564) Italian artist, architect, poet [Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni]
(Attributed)
Also rendered Anchora imparo. This is often described as a daily mantra of Michelangelo's. This association can be traced to Richard Duppa, The Lives and Works of Michael Angelo and Raphael (1806) [tr. Hazlitt]. Duppa misattributed to Michelangelo a drawing by Domenico Giuntalodi, which included the saying. The phrase itself was popular during the 16th Century.
While there's no indication that Michelangelo did not say this, or agree with the sentiment, it does not seem to have been solidly cited to him, or shown to be a personal motto, let alone being original to him.
Blind greed! Brainless rage!
In our brief lives they drive us beyond sense And leave us misery for a heritage Throughout eternity!
[Oh cieca cupidigia e ira folle, che sì ci sproni ne la vita corta, e ne l’etterna poi sì mal c’immolle!]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 12, l. 49ff (12.49-51) (1320) [tr. James (2013)]
(Source)
On seeing Phlegethon, the river of boiling blood, in which those who violently injured others (through greed or wrath) are forced to stand for all eternity.
Some versions have this as something Virgil says; most make it an exclamation of Dante's.
O foolish Rage, O blind desire,
That spurs you on, in the short life above,
To such dire Acts as to eternity
Will keep you in this wretched bath below!
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 45ff]
O blind lust!
O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on In the brief life, and in the eternal then Thus miserably o’erwhelm us.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Oh blinded lust! oh anger void of sense! To spur us o'er the shorter life so bold, So fell to steep us in the life immense!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Oh blind cupidity [both wicked and foolish], which so incites us in the short life, and then, in the eternal, steeps us so bitterly!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
O blind cupidity! O foolish wrath! Thorough this short life, that spurs them to the sleep, Eternally in tide like this to steep.
[tr. Bannerman (1850), from Virgil]
Oh, blinded greediness! oh, foolish rage! Which spur us so in the short world of life, And then in death so drown us in despair!
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, That spurs us onward so in our short life,
And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
O blind covetousness! O foolish wrath! that dost so spur us in our short life, and afterward in the life eternal dost in such evil wise steep us!
[tr. Butler (1885)]
O blind cupidity, O foolish ire, Which spurs us on so in our life's short day, And soaks us till Eternity expire!
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Oh blind cupidity, both guilty and mad, that so spurs us in the brief life, and then, in the eternal, steeps us so ill!
[tr. Norton (1892)]
O sightless greed! O foolish wrath! that dost in our short life, so goad us; and after, in the life that hath no end, dost sink us in such evil plight.
[tr. Sullivan (1893), from Virgil]
Oh, blind cupidity! Oh, senseless anger, Which in the brief life spurs us on so hotly. And in the eternal then so sadly dips us !
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
O blind covetousness and foolish anger, which in the brief life so goad us on and then, in the eternal, steep us in such misery!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
O blind greed and mad anger, all astray That in the short life goad us onward so, And in the eternal with such plungings pay!
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
O blind, O rash and wicked lust of spoil, That drives our short life with so keen a goad And steeps our life eternal in such broil!
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Oh blind!
Oh ignorant, self-seeking cupidity which spurs us so in the short mortal life and steeps us so through all eternity!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
O blind cupidity and mad rage, which in the brief life so goad us on, and then, in the eternal, steep us so bitterly!
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
O blind cupidity and insane wrath, spurring us on through our short life on earth to steep us then forever in such misery!
[tr. Musa (1971)]
O blind cupidity and insane anger, which goad us on so much in our short life, then steep us in such grief eternally!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
O blind cupidity and senseless anger, Which so goads us in our short life here And, in the eternal life, drenches us miserably!
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
O blind desire
Of covetousness, O anger gone insane -- That goad us on through life, which is so brief, to steep in eternal woe when life is done.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
Oh blind cupidity and mad rage, that so spur us in this short life, and then in the eternal one cook us so evilly!
[tr. Durling (1996)]
O blind desires, evil and foolish, which so goad us in our brief life, and then, in the eternal one, ruin us so bitterly!
[tr. Kline (2002)]
O blind cupidity, that brew of bile and foolishness, which bubbles our brief lives, before it steeps us in eternal gall!
[tr. Carson (2002)]
What blind cupidity, what crazy rage impels us onwards in our little lives -- then dunks us in this stew to all eternity!
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
O blind covetousness, insensate wrath, which in this brief life goad us on and then, in the eternal, steep us in such misery!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
O greedy blindness and rage, insane and senseless, Spurring us on in this, our so short life, Then immolating us forever and ever!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Just as you drifted through an entire day without a plan and accomplished nothing, some people drift through their entire lives. They do it one day at a time, one week at a time, and one month at a time. The months run into years and span a life. It happens so gradually that they are unaware of how their lives are slipping by them until it’s too late.
Mary Kay Ash (1918-2001) American entrepreneur Mary Kay, You Can Have it All, ch. 4 (1995)
(Source)
Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis] Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 8, epigram 38, l. 7 (8.38.7) [tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 415]
(Source)
But it was much earlier even than that when most people forgot that the very oldest stories are, sooner or later, about blood. Later on they took the blood out to make the stories more acceptable to children, or at least to the people who had to read them to children rather than the children themselves (who, on the whole, are quite keen on blood provided it’s being shed by the deserving), and then wondered where the stories went.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Hogfather (1996)
(Source)
To show lack of consideration for those who in any capacity serve us — whether in restaurants, hotels, or stores, or in public places anywhere — is always an evidence of ill-breeding as well as inexcusable selfishness. It is only those who are afraid that someone may encroach upon their exceedingly insecure dignity who show neither courtesy nor consideration except to those whom they think it would be to their advantage to please.
Emily Post (1872-1960) American author, columnist [née Price] Etiquette: The Blue Book of Social Usage, ch. 8 “Entertaining at a Restaurant” (1922; 1955 10th ed.)
(Source)
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe’s cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
John Milton (1608-1674) English poet
“L’Allegro,” l. 25ff (1645)
(Source)
Education is the sum of what students teach each other in between lectures and seminars. You sit in each other’s rooms and drink coffee — I suppose it would be vodka and Red Bull now — you share enthusiasms, you talk a lot of wank about politics, religion, art and the cosmos and then you go to bed, alone or together according to taste. I mean, how else do you learn anything, how else do you take your mind for a walk?
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian The Fry Chronicles: An Autobiography, Part 1 “College to Colleague” (2012)
(Source)
Blessed is he who has succeeded in learning the laws of nature’s working, has cast beneath his feet all fear and fate’s implacable decree, and the howl of insatiable Death.
[Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
atque metus omnis et inexorabile fatum
subiecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis avari.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] Georgics [Georgica], Book 2, l. 490ff (2.490-492) (29 BC) [tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]
(Source)
Happie is he that hidden causes knowes,
And bold all shapes of danger dares oppose:
Trampling beneath his feet the cruell Fates,
Whom Death, nor swallowing Acheron amates.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Happy the Man, who, studying Nature's Laws,
Thro' known Effects can trace the secret Cause.
His Mind possessing, in a quiet state,
Fearless of Fortune, and resign'd to Fate.
[tr. Dryden (1709), l. 698-701]
Happy the Man, whose penetrating mind
Of things the latent causes first could find,
He, who all terrors, ruthless Fate could quell,
And the dire din of all-devouring Hell!
[tr. Nevile (1767), l. 549-552]
How blest the sage! whose soul can pierce each cause
Of changeful Nature, and her wondrous laws:
Who tramples fear beneath his foot, and braves
Fate, and stern death, and hell's resounding waves.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]
Happy is he who has been able to trace out the causes of things, and who has cast beneath his feet all fears, and inexorable Destiny, and the noise of devouring Acheron!
[tr. Davidson (1854)]
Thrice blest the man whom mighty genius brings
To know the cause and origin of things:
Beneath his feet lie destiny and dread;
He walks the roaring waters of the dead.
[tr. Blackmore (1871)]
Happy the man who has won the knowledge of the moving springs of nature, and so trmapled under food all fears, and the remorseless doom of death, and the road of Acheron, yawning for prey!
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]
Happy, who had the skill to understand
Nature's hid causes, and beneath his feet
All terrors cast, and death's relentless doom,
And the loud roar of greedy Acheron.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]
Happy the man who knows the secret cause,
How nature works, and reads creation’s laws,
Whose soul to fortune can superior rise,
And death, dark minister of fate, despise.
[tr. King (1882), ll. 498-501]
Happy is he who has been able to trace out the causes of things, and who has trodden under foot all idle fears, and inexorable Destiny, and the roar of devouring Acheron!
[tr. Bryce (1897)]
Happy he who hath availed to know the causes of things, and hath laid all fears and immitigable Fate and the roar of hungry Acheron under his feet.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]
Oh happy, whose heart hath attained Creation's secret to know,
Who hath trampled all haunting fears underfoot, nor dreadeth the blow
Of Fate the relentless, the roar of insatiate Acheron's flow!
[tr. Way (1912)]
Blest was that man whose vision could explore
The world's prime causes, conquering for man
His horde of fears, his certain doom of death
Inexorable, and the menace loud
Of hungry Acheron!
[tr. Williams (1915)]
Lucky is he who can learn the roots of the universe,
Has mastered all his fears and fate's intransigence
And the hungry clamour of hell.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]
Blessed is he who masters nature’s laws,
Tramples on fear and unrelenting fate,
On greedy, roaring Acheron.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]
Happy the man who has been able to learn the causes of things and has trampled beneath his feet all fears, inexorable fate, and the howl of greedy Acheron.
[tr. Miles (1980)]
Blessed is he whose mind had power to probe
The causes of things and trample underfoot
All terrors and inexorable fate
And the clamour of devouring Acheron.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]
He who’s been able to learn the causes of things is happy,
and has set all fear, and unrelenting fate, and the noise
of greedy Acheron, under his feet.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Blessed, he who understands the workings of nature
and tramples all fear and relentless fate and the bone-
shaking clatter of greedy Death beneath his feet.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]
O happy he who can fathom the causes of thing,
who's thrown all fear and dogged Fate
beneath his feet, and the roaring of ravenous Acheron.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]
That man is blessed who has learned the causes of things,
And therefore under his feet subjugates fear
And the decrees of unrelenting fate
And the noise of Acheron's insatiable waters.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]
On the one hand, philosophy is to keep us thinking about things that we may come to know, and on the other hand to keep us modestly aware of how much what seems like knowledge isn’t knowledge.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
(Source)
A man wants to earn money in order to be happy, and his whole effort and the best of a life are devoted to the earning of that money. Happiness is forgotten; the means are taken for the end.
Albert Camus (1913-1960) Algerian-French novelist, essayist, playwright The Myth of Sisyphus, “Absurd Creation” (1942) [tr. O’Brien (1991)]
(Source)
Be at peace yourself. Then you will be able to bring peace to others.
[Pone te primus in pace, et tunc alios poteris pacificare.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 2, ch. 3, v. 1 (2.3.1) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Rooney (1979)]
(Source)
First put thyself in peace, and then mayest thou the better pacify others.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
First put yourself at peace, and then you may the better make others be at peace.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]
Secure Peace at Home in the first place; and, when thy own Breast is thus composed, it will then be proper to Reconcile and make Peace among thy Neighbors.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.)]
Thou must first secure the peace of thy own breast; before thou wilt be qualified to restore peace to others.
[tr. Payne (1803)]
First, keep thyself in peace, and then shalt thou be able to pacify others.
[ed. Parker (1841)]
Thou must first secure the peace of thy own breast ere thou be qualified to restore peace to others.
[tr. Dibdin (1851)]
First keep thyself in peace, and then thou wilt be able to bring others to peace.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
First keep thyself in peace, and then shalt thou be able to be a peacemaker towards others.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
First keep thyself in peace, and then thou shalt be able to keep peace among others.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]
First keep peace with yourself; then you will be able to bring peace to others.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
Keep yourself at peace first, and then you will be able to make others peaceful.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
Firstly, be peaceful yourself, and you will be able to bring peace to others.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
Peace in your own soul first of all, then you can think about making peace between other people.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
Live in peace yourself and then you can bring peace to others.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
Keep yourself at peace first, and then you will be able to bring peace to others.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
I am beginning to feel a little more like an author now that I have had a book banned. The literary life, in this country, begins in jail.
E. B. White (1899-1985) American author, critic, humorist [Elwyn Brooks White]
Letter to Stanley Hart White (1944-06)
(Source)
On reading that the US Army and Navy had refused to publish an "Armed Services Edition" of his Harper's magazine essay collection, One Man's Meat (1942), for "political implications." The decision was later rescinded.
Life is a disease temporarily relieved every sixteen hours, by sleep. The complete cure: death.
[Vivre est une maladie dont le sommeil nous soulage toutes les seize heures. C’est un palliatif. La Mort est le remède.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch) Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionée], Part 1 “Maxims and Thoughts [Maximes et Pensées],” ch. 2, ¶ 113 (1795) [tr. Parmée (2003), ¶ 91]
(Source)
Life is a malady in which sleep soothes us every sixteen hours; it is a palliation; death is the remedy.
[Ballou, comp. (1872)]
Living is a disease from the pains of which sleep eases us every sixteen hours; sleep is but a palliative, death alone is the cure.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902)]
Life is a disease from which sleep gives us alleviation every sixteen hours. Sleep is a palliative, Death is the remedy.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]
Living is an ailment which is relieved every sixteen hours by sleep. A palliative Death is the cure.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]
To live is a malady from which sleep vouchsafes us relief every sixteen hours. That is a palliative. The remedy is death.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]
To live is a sickness that sleep comforts every sixteen hours. It's a palliative. Death is the cure.
[tr. Sinicalchi]
Life is a sickness to which sleep provides relief every sixteen hours. It's a palliative. The remedy is death.
[Source]
So whatever you want to do, just do it. Don’t worry about making a damn fool of yourself. Making a damn fool of yourself is absolutely essential. And you will have a great time.
Gloria Steinem (b. 1934) American feminist, journalist, activist
Commencement address, Tufts University (1987-05-17)
(Source)
