Harry S Truman (1884-1972) US President (1945-1953)
(Misattributed)
Not a quote from Truman, but popularized by him through a sign he kept on his White House desk, displaying the message It had been sent to him from the Federal Reformatory at El Reno, Oklahoma in late 1945. On the reverse side it reads, "I'm from Missouri." Truman occasionally referenced the sign and phrase in speeches.
The phrase -- which itself refers to "passing the buck," or handing responsibility off to another -- predates Truman's administration, and may have been coined by Brigadier General A. B. Warfield in 1939 or earlier.
More discussion about this quotation and its origin:
There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.
Jane Austen (1775-1817) English novelist Pride and Prejudice, ch. 24 [Elizabeth] (1813)
(Source)
Great artists say that the most beautiful thing in the world is a little baby. Well, the next most beautiful thing is an old lady, for every wrinkle is a picture.
Will Rogers (1879-1935) American humorist
Radio broadcast (1930-05-11)
(Source)
It is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn his errors as his knowledge. Mal-information is more hopeless than non-information; for error is always more busy than ignorance. Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we may write; but error is a scribbled one, on which we must first erase. Ignorance is contented to stand still with her back to the truth; but error is more presumptuous, and proceeds in the same direction. Ignorance has no light, but error follows a false one. The consequence is, that error, when she retraces her footsteps, has further to go, before she can arrive at the truth, than ignorance.
Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 1, § 1 (1820)
(Source)
Others lash the unknown seas with oars,
Rush at the sword, pay court in royal halls.
One destroys a city and its homes
To drink from jewelled cups and sleep on scarlet;
One hoards his wealth and lies on buried gold.
One gapes dumbfounded at the speaker’s stand;
At the theater, still another, open-mouthed,
Reels before crescendos of applause
From the tiers where mob and dignitaries sit.
Others are keen to drench themselves in blood,
Their brothers’ blood, and, exiled, change their homes
And winsome hearths, to range abroad for room
To live in, underneath a foreign sun.
[Sollicitant alii remis freta caeca ruuntque
in ferrum, penetrant aulas et limina regum;
hic petit excidiis urbem miserosque Penatis,
ut gemma bibat et Sarrano dormiat ostro;
condit opes alius defossoque incubat auro;
hic stupet attonitus rostris; hunc plausus hiantem
per cuneos — geminatus enim plebisque patrumque —
corripuit; gaudent perfusi sanguine fratrum,
exsilioque domos et dulcia limina mutant
atque alio patriam quaerunt sub sole iacentem.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] Georgics [Georgica], Book 2, l. 504ff (2.504-513) (29 BC) [tr. Bovie (1956)]
(Source)
Virgil contrasting violent, ambitious, vain, and rootless life of city folk (evoking the Roman civil wars), in contrast to the bucolic peace and sense of home enjoyed by farmers.
Some vex the Sea, and some to war resorts, Attend on Kings, and waite in Princes Courts.
This would his Countrey, and his God betray To drink in Jems, and on proud scarlet lye.
This hides his wealth, and broods on hidden gold, This loves to plead, and that to be extold
Through all the seats of Commons, and the sires. To bathe in's brothers blood this man desires.
Some banish'd, must their native seats exchange, And Countries, under other Climates range.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Some to the Seas, and some to Camps resort, And some with Impudence invade the Court.
In foreign Countries others seek Renown, With Wars and Taxes others waste their own.
And Houses burn, and household Gods deface, To drink in Bowls which glitt'ring Gems enchase:
To loll on Couches, rich with Cytron Steds, And lay their guilty Limbs in Tyrian Beds.
This Wretch in Earth intombs his Golden Ore, Hov'ring and brooding on his bury'd Store.
Some Patriot Fools to pop'lar Praise aspire, By Publick Speeches, which worse Fools admire.
While from both Benches, with redoubl'd Sounds, Th' Applause of Lords and Commoners abounds.
Some through Ambition, or thro' Thirst of Gold; Have slain their Brothers, or their Country sold:
And leaving their sweet Homes, in Exile run To Lands that lye beneath another Sun.
[tr. Dryden (1709), l. 720ff]
Some rush to battle, vex with oars the deep, Or in the courts of Kings insidious creep;
For cups of gem, and quilts of Tyrian, die, Others remorseless loose each public tie:
On hoarded treasures these ecstatic gaze, Those eye the Rostra, stupid with amaze:
This for the theatre's applauding roar Sighs: with the blood of brothers sprinkled o'er
From their dear homes to exile others run, And seek new seats beneath a distant sun.
[tr. Nevile (1767), l. 565ff]
Some vex with restless oar wild seas unknown. Some rush on death, or cringe around the throne;
Stern warriors here beneath their footsteps tread The realm that rear'd them, and the hearth that fed,
To quaff from gems, and lull to transient rest The wound that bleeds beneath the Tyrian vest.
These brood with sleepless gaze o'er buried gold, The rostrum these with raptur'd trance behold,
Or wonder when repeated plaudits raise 'Mid peopled theatres the shout of praise;
These with grim joy, by civil discord led, And stain'd in battles where a brother bled.
From their sweet household hearth in exile roam, And seek beneath new suns a foreign home.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]
Some vex the dangerous seas with oars, some rush into arms, some work their way into courts, and the palaces of kings. One destines a city and wretched families to destruction, that he may drink in gems and sleep on Tyrian purple. Another hoards up wealth, and broods over buried gold. One, astonished at the rostrum, grows giddy; another peals of applause along the rows, (for it is redoubled both by the people and the fathers,) have captivated, and set agape; some rejoice when stained with their brother's blood; and exchange their homes and sweet thresholds for exile, and seek a country lying under another sun.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]
While others vex dark Hellespont with oars, Leap on the sword, or dash through royal stores,
Storm towns and homesteads, in their vile desire To quaff from pearl, and sleep on tints of Tyre;
While others hoard and brood on buried dross, And some are moonstruck at the pleader's gloss;
While this man gapes along the pit, to hear The mob and senators renew their cheer;
And others, reeking in fraternal gore, With songs of triumph quit their native shore,
Abjure sweet home for banishment, and run In quest of country 'neath another sun --
[tr. Blackmore (1871), l. 602ff]
Others are startling the darkness of the deep with oars, rushing on the sword's pint, winning their way into the courts and ante-chambers of kings; another is dooming a city to ruin and its homes to misery, that he may drink from jewelled cups and sleep on Tyrian purple; another hoards his wealth, and broods o'er buried gold; this man is dazzled and amazed by the eloquence of the rostra; that man the applause of commoners and senators, as it rolls redoubled through the benches, transports agape with wonder; they steep their hands in brothers' blood and joy, they change their homes and the thresholds of affection for the land of exile, and seek a fatherland that lies beneath another sun.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]
Others vex
The darksome gulfs of Ocean with their oars,
Or rush on steel: they press within the courts
And doors of princes; one with havoc falls
Upon a city and its hapless hearths,
From gems to drink, on Tyrian rugs to lie;
This hoards his wealth and broods o'er buried gold;
One at the rostra stares in blank amaze;
One gaping sits transported by the cheers,
The answering cheers of plebs and senate rolled
Along the benches: bathed in brothers' blood
Men revel, and, all delights of hearth and home
For exile changing, a new country seek
Beneath an alien sun.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]
These dare the ocean, and invite the storm, This rage, and this the courtier’s wiles deform;
All faith, all right the traitor’s acts defy, From gems to drink, on Tyrian purple lie;
One broods in misery o’er his hoarded gold. And one in chains the people’s plaudits hold.
There stains of blood pollute a brother’s hand, And he in terror flies his father’s land.
[tr. Kinghttps://archive.org/details/dli.bengal.10689.18134/page/n105/mode/2up?q=%22These+dare+the+ocean%22 (1882), l. 514ff]
Some vex the dangerous seas with oars, or rush into arms, or work their way into courts and the palaces of kings: one marks out a city and its wretched homes for destruction, that he may drink from jewelled cups and sleep on Tyrian purple. Another hoards up wealth, and lies sleepless on his buried gold. One, in bewildered amazement, gazes at the Rostra; another, in open-mouthed delight, the plaudits of the commons and the nobles, redoubled along benches, have arrested: some take pleasure in being drenched with a brother’s blood; and exchange their homes and dear thresholds for exile, and seek a country lying under another sun.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]
Others vex blind sea-ways with their oars, or rush upon the sword, pierce the courts and chambers of kings; one aims destruction at the city and her wretched homes, that he may drink from gems and sleep on Tyrian scarlet; another heaps up wealth and broods over buried gold; one hangs rapt in amaze before the Rostra; one the applause of populace and senate re-echoing again over the theatre carries open-mouthed away: joyfully they steep themselves in blood of their brethren, and exchange for exile the dear thresholds of their homes, and seek a country spread under an alien sun.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]
Others may tempt with oars the printless sea, may fling Their lives to the sword, may press through portals and halls of a king.
This traitor hath ruined his country, hath blasted her homes, thereby To drink from a jewelled chalice, on Orient purple to lie;
That fool hoards up his wealth, and broods o'er his buried gold; That simple-one gazes rapt on the rostra: the loud cheers rolled
Down the theatre-seats, as Fathers and people acclaiming stood, Have entranced yon man; men drench them with joy in their brethren's blood;
Into exile from home and its sweet, sweet threshold some have gone Seeking a country that lieth beneath an alien sun.
[tr. Way (1912), l. 503ff]
Let strangers to such peace
Trouble with oars the boundless seas or fly
To wars, and plunder palaces of kings;
Make desolate whole cities, casting down
Their harmless gods and altars, that one's wine
May from carved rubies gush, and slumbering head
On Tyrian pillow lie. A man here hoards
His riches, dreaming of his buried gold;
Another on the rostrum's flattered pride
Stares awe-struck. Him th' applause of multitudes.
People and senators, when echoed shouts
Ring through the house approving, quite enslaves.
With civil slaughter and fraternal blood
One day such reek exultant, on the next
Lose evermore the long-loved hearth and home.
[tr. Williams (1915)]
Others brave with oars seas unknown, dash upon the sword, or press their way into courts and the chambers of kings. One wreaks ruin on a city and its wretched homes, and all to drink from a jewelled cup and sleep on Tyrian purple; another hoards wealth and gloats over buried gold; one stares in admiration at the rostra; another, open-mouthed, is carried away by the applause of high and low which rolls again and again along the benches. They steep themselves in their brothers’ blood and glory in it; they barter their sweet homes and hearths for exile and seek a country that lies beneath an alien sun.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]
Other men dare the sea with their oars blindly, or dash
On the sword, or insinuate themselves into royal courts:
One ruins a whole town and the tenements of the poor
In his lust for jewelled cups, for scarlet linen to sleep on,
One piles up great wealth, gloats over his cache of gold;
One gawps at the public speakers; one is worked up to hysteria
By the plaudits of senate and people resounding across the benches:
These shed their brothers’ blood
Merrily, they barter for exile their homes beloved
And leave for countries lying under an alien sun.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]
Others churn blind straits with their oars, and rush to the sword, force their way across the thresholds and into the courts of kings; [...] They rejoice, soaked in their brothers’ blood, exchange their own sweet thresholds for exile and seek a fatherland under another sun.
[tr. Miles (1980)]
Some vex with oars uncharted waters, some
Rush on cold steel, some seek to worm their way
Into the courts of kings. One is prepared
To plunge a city's homes in misery
All for a jewelled cup and a crimson bedspread;
Another broods on a buried hoard of gold.
This one is awestruck by the platform's thunder;
That one, enraptured, gapes ad the waves of applause
from high and low rolling across the theater.
Men revel steeped in brothers' blood, exchange
The hearth they love for banishment, and seek
A home in lands benath an alien sun.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]
Others trouble unknown seas with oars, rush on
their swords, enter the gates and courts of kings.
This man destroys a city and its wretched houses,
to drink from a jewelled cup, and sleep on Tyrian purple:
that one heaps up wealth, and broods about buried gold:
one’s stupefied, astonished by the Rostra: another, gapes,
entranced by repeated applause, from people and princes,
along the benches: men delight in steeping themselves
in their brothers’ blood, changing sweet home and hearth for exile,
and seeking a country that lies under an alien sun.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Others slap their oars on dark, unknown seas, fall on their swords,
or thrust themselves into royal courts and palaces.
One man aims to destroy a city and its humble homes -- just
to drink from a jeweled goblet and sleep on Tyrian purple;
another stores up treasures and broods on his buried gold.
Wide-eyed, one gawks at the forum's speakers; another,
mouth agape, is swept away when lower class and upper both
applaud a statesman. Dripping with their brothers' gore,
they exult, exchanging familiar homes and hearths for exile,
they seek a fatherland that lies beneath a foreign sun.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]
Others fret with oars uncharted seas, or rush
upon the sword, or infiltrate the courts and vestibules of kings.
One visits devastation on a city and its wretched hearths
that he may slurp from a jewelled cup and snore on Tyrian purple.
Another hoards treasure and broods over buried gold.
One wonders thunderstruck at the podium, one gapes
transported by the applause of senators and commonfolk
resounding through the galleries. Drenched in their brothers' blood
they exult, and trade exile for their homes and sweet porches,
and seek a homeland under an alien sun.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]
There are those who with their oars disturb the waters
Of dangerous unknown seas, and those who rush
Against the sword, and those who insinuate
Their way into the chamber of a king:
There's one who brings down ruin on a city
And all its wretched households, in his desire
To drink from an ornate cup and go to sleep
On Tyrian purple coverlets at night;
There's the man who heaps up gold, and hides it away,
There's he who stares up stupefied at the Rostrum;
There's the open-mouthed, undone astonishment
Of the one who hears the waves and waves of the wild
Applause of the close packed crowd in the theater;
There are those who bathe in their brothers' blood, rejoicing;
And those who give up house and home for exile,
Seeking a land an alien sun shines on.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]
It is astonishing how articulate one can become when alone and raving at a radio. Arguments and counter arguments, rhetoric and bombast flow from one’s lips like scurf from the hair of a bank manager.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
“Trefusis on Any Questions,” Loose Ends, BBC Radio 4 (c. 1987)
(Source)
I think [the effects of religion] have been bad because it was held important that people should believe something for which there did not exist good evidence and that falsified everybody’s thinking, falsified systems of education, and set up also, what I think a complete moral heresy: namely, that it is right to believe certain things, and wrong to believe certain others, apart from the question of whether the things in question are true or false.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
(Source)
If you look for rest in this life, how will you attain to everlasting rest? Dispose yourself, then, not for much rest but for great patience.
[Si quæris in hac vita requiem: quomodo tunc pervenies ad æternam requiem? Non ponas te ad multam requiem, sed a magnam patientiam.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 3, ch. 35, v. 3 (3.35.2) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
(Source)
If thou seek rest in this life, how then shalt thou come to the rest everlasting? Set not thyself to have rest here, but to have patience.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
If you seek rest in this life, how will you, then, come to everlasting rest? Do not determine to have rest here, but to have patience.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]
If thou seekest rest in this world, how wilt thou then attain to everlasting rest? Give not thy selfe to much ease, but to much patience.
[tr. Page (1639), 3.35.6]
If then these are the Conditions of thy Obedience and Reward, think how absurd it, for them who indulge their Ease here, to expect Peace and Happiness hereafter. In one of the two States Enduring must be thy Lot; and therefore tough Patience, and not soft Repose, is what thou should'st labour for at present.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.), 3.40]
If thou seekest rest in this life, how wilt thou attain to the everlasting rest of the life to come? Thou must prepare thy heart for the exercise of many and great troubles, not for the enjoyment of continual rest.
[tr. Payne (1803), 3.27.8]
If thou seek rest in this life, how wilt thou then attain to the everlasting Rest? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for great patience.
[ed. Parker (1841)]
It thou seekest rest in this life, how wilt thou attain to the everlasting rest of the life to come? Thou must not merely rest, but prepare thy heart for far greater patience and resignation.
[tr. Dibdin (1851), 3.31.2]
If thou seekest rest in this life, how then wilt thou come to the rest everlasting? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for much patience.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
If thou seek rest in this life, how then wilt thou attain unto the rest which is eternal? Set not thyself to attain much rest, but much patience.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
If thou seek rest in this life, how wilt thou then attain to the everlasting rest? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for great patience.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]
If you search after rest in this life, how then will you come through to an everlasting rest? Do not set out for much in the way of rest, but for suffering that costs.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
If you look for rest in this life, how can you attain eternal rest? Dispose yourself not to rest, but to patient endurance.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
If you try to find rest in this world, how will you ever reach that rest which is life everlasting? It is not long hours of rest you must be prepared for here, but for long hours of patient endurance.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
If you are looking for rest in this life, how will you ever reach the everlasting rest at the end? It is not rest you must expect, but suffering.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
You may seek rest in this life. How then will you gain rest in everlasting life? Do not expect great rest. Expect much suffering instead.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
If you seek rest in this life, how do you expect to come to eternal rest? Do not make frequent rest your goal but great patience.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
Your petitioners are Atheists and they define their beliefs as follows. An Atheist loves his fellow man instead of god. An Atheist believes that heaven is something for which we should work now — here on earth for all men together to enjoy. An Atheist believes that he can get no help through prayer but that he must find in himself the inner conviction, and strength to meet life, to grapple with it, to subdue it, and enjoy it. An Atheist believes that only in a knowledge of himself and a knowledge of his fellow man can he find the understanding that will help to a life of fulfillment. He seeks to know himself and his fellow man rather than to know a god. An Atheist believes that a hospital should be built instead of a church. An Atheist believes that deed must be done instead of a prayer said. An Atheist strives for involvement in life and not escape into death. He wants disease conquered, poverty vanished, war eliminated. He wants man to understand and love man. He wants an ethical way of life. He believes that we cannot rely on god nor channel action into prayer nor hope for an end of troubles in a hereafter. He believes that we are the keepers of our own lives and that we are our brother’s keeper; that we are responsible persons and that the job is here and the time is now.
Madalyn Murray O'Hair (1919-1995) American atheist, civil rights activist
Petition for Relief (1959), Murray v. Curlett 371 U.S. 809 (1962)
(Source)
Originally written as a Letter to the Editor of the Baltimore Post. Murray v Curlett was later folded into Abington School District v. Schempp 374 U.S. 203 (1963), in which the US Supreme Court ruled that public school-sponsored ceremonial reading from the Bible and recitation of the Lord's Prayer was unconstitutional.
Originally published in his "Cynic's Word Book" column in the New York American (1904-07-09) and "Cynic's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Examiner (1904-07-17) as "the mother of remorse and great first cause of penitence."
I don’t think there is anything I have done that I wish I hadn’t done. Because I learn from everything I do. I’m in school every day. My diploma will be my tombstone.
Eartha Kitt (1927-2008) American singer and actress
In Lon Tuck, “It’s Been a Long Time But … Eartha’s Back!” Washington Post (1978-01-19)
(Source)
When a citation is given to this quotation, it's usually "Playbill 1978." It does indeed show up in an (unknown month) of Playbill Magazine in 1978, also in association with her starring role in the stage show Timbuktu, which opened on Broadway March 1st of that year, but this article appears to be the source. (see comments for the helpful tip).
We pursued an empty fame and popularity even down to the applause of the playhouse, poetical competitions, and contests for garlands of grass, foolish plays on the stage, and unbridled lusts.
[Hac popularis gloriae sectantes inanitatem, usque ad theatricos plausus et contentiosa carmina et agonem coronarum faenearum et spectaculorum nugas et intemperantiam libidinum]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus] Confessions, Book 4, ch. 1 / ¶ 1 (4.1.1) (c. AD 398) [tr. Ryan (1960)]
(Source)
Hunting after the emptiness of popular praise, down even to theatrical applauses, and poetic prizes, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the follies of shows, and the intemperance of desires.
[tr. Pusey (1838)]
Striving after the emptiness of popular fame, even to theatrical applauses, and poetic contests, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the follies of shows and the intemperance of desire.
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]
Vain seeking the emptiness of popular praise, even the applause of the theatres , and the prizes for verses, and the struggle for withering garlands, and the follies of shows, and the gratification of ungoverned desires.
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]
Education drew me to follow the toys that men call fame, applause in the theatre, prize poems, contests for crowns of hay, the follies of the stage, all the riot of passion.
[tr. Bigg (1897)]
I pursued the emptiness of popular glory and the applause of spectators, with competition for prize poems and strife for garlands of straw and the vanity of stage shows and untempered lusts.
[tr. Sheed (1943)]
In my public life I was striving after the emptiness of popular fame, going so far as to seek theatrical applause, entering poetic contests, striving for the straw garlands and the vanity of theatricals and intemperate desires.
[tr. Outler (1955)]
We would hunt for worthless popular distinctions, the applause of an audience, prizes for poetry, or quickly fading wreaths won in competition. We loved the idle pastimes of the stage and in self-indulgence we were unrestrained.
[tr. Pine-Coffin (1961)]
I and my friends would be hunting after the empty show of popularity -- theatrical applause from the audience, verse competitions, contests for crowns of straw, the vanity of the stage, immoderate lusts.
[tr. Warner (1963)]
I would be seeking empty popularity, cheers in the theatre, poetic competitions, strife for straw crowns, trifles of stage shows, and undisciplined desires.
[tr. Blaiklock (1983)]
We pursued trumpery, popular acclaim, theatrical plaudits, song-competitions and the contest for ephemeral wreaths, we watched trashy shows and indulged our interperate lusts.
[tr. Boulding (1997)]
There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he expected.
[Il n’est pas de plaisir plus doux que de surprendre un homme en lui donnant plus qu’il n’espère.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) French poet, essayist, art critic Le Spleen de Paris (Petits Poèmes en Prose), No. 28 “The Counterfeit Money [La Fausse Monnaie]” (1869) [tr. Shipley (1919)]
(Source)
Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks.
You sulph’rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head. And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ th’ world.
Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once
That makes ingrateful man.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet King Lear, Act 3, sc. 2, l. 1ff (3.2.1-11) [Lear] (1606)
(Source)
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 there is no going aright, without truth there is no knowing aright, without life there is no living at all.
[tr. Page (1639), 3.56.3]
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 swift, sincere, pious, sweet and delightfull: strong, patient, faithfull, prudent, suffering, full of courage, and never seeking it selfe. For where one seeketh him∣selfe, there he falleth from love.
[tr. Page (1639), 3.5.25-26]
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)
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