No normal man who has smelled and associated with death ever wants to see any more of it. In fact, the only men who are even going to want to bloody noses in a fist fight after this war will be those who want people to think they were tough combat men, when they weren’t. The surest way to become a pacifist is to join the infantry.
A man is not necessarily intelligent because he has plenty of ideas, any more than he is a good general because he has plenty of soldiers.
[On n’est point un homme d’esprit pour avoir beaucoup d’idées, comme on n’est pas un bon général pour avoir beaucoup de soldats.]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. 7, ¶ 446 (1795) [tr. Mathers (1926)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:
A man is not clever simply because he has many ideas, just as he is not necessarily a good general because he has many soldiers.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902)]
One is not a man of wit simply because one has a great many ideas, any more than one is a good general simply because one has a great many soldiers.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]
Having a great many ideas doesn't betoken a fine mind, just as having a great many soldiers doesn't betoken a fine general.
[tr. Dusinberre (1992), ¶ 445]
Having a lot of ideas does not give a person esprit, in the same way that having a lot of soldiers doesn't make a person a good general.
[tr. Sinicalchi, ¶ 445]
He that cannot obey, cannot command.
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) American statesman, scientist, philosopher, aphorist
Poor Richard (1734 ed.)
(Source)
“God is love,” as Scripture says, and that means the revelation is in the relationship. “God is love” means God is known devotionally, not dogmatically. “God is love” does not clear up old mysteries; it discloses new mystery. “God is love” is not a truth we can master; it is only one to which we can surrender. Faith is being grasped by the power of love.
William Sloane Coffin, Jr. (1924-2006) American minister, social activist
“Emmanuel,” sermon (1979-12-09)
(Source)
Sermon on Matthew 1:23.
Coffin had used very similar language in an earlier sermon, "Born to Set Thy People Free" (1977-12-04), on John 1:14:
God is known devotionally, not dogmatically. If as Scripture says, "God is love," then the revelation is the relationship. Christianity is not cleaning up old mysteries; it's the disclovsure of a new mystery. It is not a truth that you can master; it's only one to which you can surrender. Faith is being grasped by the power of love.
And though mine arm should conquer twenty worlds,
There’s a lean fellow beats all conquerors.Thomas Dekker (c. 1572-1632) English dramatist and pamphleteer
Old Fortunatus, Act 1, sc. 1, l. 281 (1599)
(Source)
Miss Manners corrects only upon request. Then she does it from a distance, with no names attached, and no personal relationship, however distant, between the corrector and the correctee. She does not search out errors like a policeman leaping out of a speed trap. When Miss Manners observes people behaving rudely, she behaves politely to them, and then goes home and snickers about them afterward.
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners]
Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, Introduction (1983)
(Source)
My ethical state,
Were I wealthy and great,
Is a subject you wish I’d reply on.
Now who can foresee
What his morals might be?
What would yours be if you were a lion?
[Saepe rogare soles, qualis sim, Prisce, futurus,
Si fiam locuples simque repente potens.
Quemquam posse putas mores narrare futuros?
Dic mihi, si fias tu leo, qualis eris?]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 12, epigram 92 (12.92) (AD 101) [tr. Nixon (1911)]
(Source)
"To Priscus." (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
Priscus! you've often ask'd me how I'd live,
Should Fate at once both wealth and honour give?
What soul his future conduct can foresee?
Tell me what sort of lion you would be?
[tr. Lewis (<1752)]
What would I do, the question you repeat,
if on a sudden I were rich and great?
Who can himself with future conduct charge?
What would you do, a lion, and at large?
[tr. Hay (1755), ep. 93]
You've often been used, my good friend, for to ask
What sort of man I might prove
Was I rich or soon great? but 'tis no easy talk,
For 'faith I can't tell you, by Jove!
For who do You think, of the men that are here
Can his manners divine, that You see?
And was you as Jonathan's bull or a bear,
Pray what sort of beast would you be?
[tr. Scott (1773)]
Thou asketh oft, how I should brook the hour,
Of wealth o'erwhelming, and resistless pow'r.
His future self what seer can prophesy?
What lion, Priscus, should'st thou make? Reply.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), 2.143]
Priscus! you often ask me what wouild be my future conduct, if I were made suddenly rich or powerful? Who can be competent to judge of his future character under such contingencies? Tell me, if you were metamorphosed into a lion, what kind of lion would you be?
[tr. Amos (1858), ep. 94]
You often ask me, Priscus, what sort of person I should be, if I were to become suddenly rich and powerful. Who can determine what would be his future conduct? Tell me, if you were to become a lion, what sort of a lion would you be?
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]
You are often wont to ask me what sort of person I should be, Priscus, if I became rich and were suddenly powerful. Do you think any man can declare his character in the future? Tell me, if you became a lion, what sort of lion will you be?
[tr. Ker (1919)]
What should I be if great and rich?
That is the sort of question which
One cannot prophesy on;
Apply it to yourself: e.g.,
What sort of lion will you be
If you become a lion?
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921), "Riddles"]
You often ask me, Priscus, how I'ld use
My fortune if I stood in rich men's shoes.
'Tis hard forecasting the effect of pelf;
What sort of lion would you make, yourself?
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 687]
Your question: would my character,
And how, change if I suddenly were
Powerful and rich? Who can foresee
The sort of person he might be?
Supposing, Priscus, you became
A lion, would you be fierce or tame?
[tr. Michie (1972)]
You are wont to ask me, Priscus, what sort of person I should be if I were suddenly to become rich and powerful. Do you suppose that anybody can foretell his character? Tell me, if you were to become a lion, what would you be like?
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]
Priscus, your perennial party game
Is "How would you handle wealth and power?"
Who knows? But back at you the same:
If you were a lion, would you rage or cower?
[tr. Ericsson (1995)]
If I were what I am not, rich,
Would I become a king?
If you were what you are not, brave,
Would you be anything?
[tr. Wills (2007)]
Priscus, you often ask what I'd be like
if I got wealth and power suddenly.
Can anyone foretell his future conduct?
If you were a lion, what kind would you be?
[tr. McLean (2014)]
Maturity is a high price to pay for growing up.
Tom Stoppard (b. 1937) Czech-English playwright and screenwriter
Where Are They Now? [Gale] (1970)
(Source)
The line in the play -- originally broadcast on BBC Radio 3 -- was based on an answer Stoppard himself gave in an interview by Peter Evans, reprinted in David Bailey and Peter Evans, Goodbye Baby and Amen: A Saraband for the Sixties (1969):
It is a very immature thing to worry about one’s stinking youth, but I don’t care: I think age is a very high price to pay for maturity.
Giving is more joyous than receiving, not because it is a deprivation, but because in the act of giving lies the expression of my aliveness.
Erich Fromm (1900-1980) American psychoanalyst and social philosopher
The Art of Loving, ch. 2, sec. 1 (1956)
(Source)
We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it.
James Barrie (1860-1937) Scottish novelist and dramatist
Margaret Ogilvy, ch. 8 “A Panic in the House” (1896)
(Source)
A biographical work about his mother and family. He identifies this as a favorite saying of hers.
My favorite word is “redemption.” I like both its meaning and the sound. My least favorite word is “maybe.” “Maybe” is almost always a “no” drawn out in cruel fashion.
Martha Elizabeth "Libba" Bray (b. 1964) American writer
“Twenty-One Things You Don’t Know About Me,” No. 4
(Source)
In her Amazon.com author biography.
In every man’s writings, the character of the writer must lie recorded.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian
“Goethe,” Foreign Review No. 3 (1828-08)
(Source)
Reviewing Goethe's Sämmtliche Werke, Vollständige Ausgabe Letzter Hand (1827). Reprinted in Carlyle, Critical and Miscellaneous Essays (1845).
Fortune sumtimes shows us the way, but it iz energy that achieves sucksess.
[Fortune sometimes shows us the way, but it is energy that achieves success.]
Josh Billings (1818-1885) American humorist, aphorist [pseud. of Henry Wheeler Shaw]
Everybody’s Friend, Or; Josh Billing’s Encyclopedia and Proverbial Philosophy of Wit and Humor, ch. 131 “Affurisms: Plum Pits (1)” (1874)
(Source)
If, as certain small-minded philosophers believe, I shall feel nothing at all after death, then at least I don’t have to worry that they will be there to mock me after they die!
[Sin mortuus, ut quidam minuti philosophi censent, nihil sentiam, non vereor ne hunc errorem meum philosophi mortui irrideant.]Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 23 / sec. 85 (23.85) (44 BC) [tr. Freeman (2016)]
(Source)
Critiquing the Epicurians, who would disagree with his belief in an immortal soul.
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
For if aftir this presente life I be dede as wele in soule as in body as that some yong and smale philosophers of whiche men name Epycures that affermyn, Certayne it is that I shall feele nothyng. And also I am not afferde that suche philosophers so ded mockyn me nor of this myne oppinion. Aftir whiche I verily beleve that the soules be undedly.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]
And if it were not so, that after death I should feel nothing nor have any sense at all (as certain perrifoggers and bastard philosophers hold opinino) I fear not a whit least these lip-labourers and ideitical philosophers, when they themselves be dead, should scoff and make a mocking-stock at this mine assertion and belief, because they themselves shall also be without sense, and like to brute beasts.
[tr. Newton (1569)]
But if when I am dead (as some small Philosophers say) I shall feel nothing, I fear not least the dead Philosophers should laugh at this my error.
[tr. Austin (1648)]
If those who this Opinion have despis'd,
And their whole life to pleasure sacrific'd;
Should feel their error, they when undeceiv'd,
Too late will wish, that me they had believ'd.
[tr. Denham (1669)]
But if after this Life I shall no longer be sensible, as some little Philosophers imagine, then am I in no Fear that dead Philosophers will laugh at my mistaken Opinion.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]
And if, when dead, I should (as some minute Philosophers imagine) be deprived of all further Sense, I am safe at least in this, that those Blades themselves will have no Opportunity beyond the Grave to laugh at me for my Opinion.
[tr. Logan (1744)]
I have the satisfaction in the meantime to be assured that if death should utterly extinguish my existence, as some minute philosophers assert, the groundless hope I entertained of an after-life in some better state cannot expose me to the derision of these wonderful sages, when they and I shall be no more.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]
But if (as certain super-subtle philosophers conclude) I shall feel nothing, I am not afraid lest these philosophers, when dead, should ridicule this error of mine.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]
But if I, when dead, shall have no consciousness, as some narrow-minded philosophers imagine, I do not fear lest dead philosophers should ridicule this my delusion.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]
While if in death, as some paltry philosophers think, I shall have no consciousness, the dead philosophers cannot ridicule this delusion of mine.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]
But if when dead, as some insignificant philosophers think, I am to be without sensation, I am not afraid of dead philosophers deriding my errors.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
But if when dead;
As some philosophers of little note
Believe, I feel no more, there is no fear
These dead philosophers should mock me there.
[tr. Allison (1916)]
But if when dead I am going to be without sensation (as some petty philosophers think), then I have no fear that these seers, when they are dead, will have the laugh on me!
[tr. Falconer (1923)]
True, certain insignificant philosophers hold that I shall feel nothing after death. If so, then at least I need not fear that after their own deaths they will be able to mock my conviction!
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
If on the other hand, as certain petty philosophers have held, I shall have no sensation when I am dead, then I need have no fear that deceased philosophers will make fun of this delusion of mine.
[tr. Copley (1967)]
Some second-rate philosophers suggest that when I am dead I will be conscious of nothing. But all that means is that, if I’m wrong, they won't be able to make fun of me after their death.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]
But anyway, if when I die my spirit also dies, I certainly won't give a flip about the opinions of dead philosophers.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]
If when I am dead I’ll have no sensation,
As some small philosophers think, I won’t fear
Accents of derision from their graves to hear.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
Fascism, Nazism and Stalinism have in common that they offered the atomized individual a new refuge and security. These systems are the culmination of alienation. The individual is made to feel powerless and insignificant, but taught to project all of his human powers into the figure of the leader, the state, the “fatherland,” to whom he has to submit and whom he has to worship. He escapes from freedom and into a new idolatry. All the achievements of individuality and reason, from the late Middle Ages to the nineteenth century are sacrificed on the altars of the new idols.
Erich Fromm (1900-1980) American psychoanalyst and social philosopher
The Sane Society, ch. 7 (1956)
(Source)
They christened their game golf because they were Scottish and revelled in meaningless Celtic noises in the back of the throat.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
“Sir John Raving: Cricket & Golf,” Paperweight (1992)
(Source)
Originally appeared as a segment in the BBC Radio show Loose Ends in the late 1980s.
But time meanwhile is flying, flying beyond recall, while we, charmed with love of our theme, linger around each detail!
[Sed fugit interea, fugit inreparabile tempus,
singula dum capti circumvectamur amore.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
Georgics [Georgica], Book 3, l. 284ff (3.284-285) (29 BC) [tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]
(Source)
After a lengthy description of the springtime mating habits of wild animals and horses, Virgil basically saying, "But I digress ..." (and, a bit more directly, "And there's fifteen minutes you're never getting back").
Origin of the phrase tempus fugit ("time flies").
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
But time irreparable hastes away.
Whil'st we with love transported waste the day.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
But time is lost, which never will renew,
While we too far the pleasing Path pursue;
Surveying Nature, with too nice a view.
[tr. Dryden (1709), l. 448ff]
But, while love's copious themes our course delay,
Time flits, irrevocably flits away.
[tr. Nevile (1767), l. 337]
But time irreparable flies away,
While in the maze of love we fondly stray.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]
But time flies meanwhile, flies irretrievable, while we, enamoured [of the theme], minutely trace particulars.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]
But time is flying, flying, and for aye,
And we, love's prisoners, on his circuit stray.
[tr. Blackmore (1871)]
But time meanwhile is flying, flying past recall, while, enamoured of our voyage, we are coasting every point.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]
Fast flies meanwhile the irreparable hour,v
As point to point our charmed round we trace.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]But lo! while we of love seductive sing,
Time onward flies, nor stays his restless wing.
[tr. King (1882), l. 293ff]
But meanwhile Time, Time that cannot be recalled, is fleeting, while enamored of my theme I enter into all details.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]
But time fleets meanwhile, fleets beyond recovery, while in loving enthrallment we pass on and on.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]
But the time meanwhile is fleeting, is fleeting past recall,
While we hover around each flower of the field that holds us in thrall.
[tr. Way (1912)]
But time runs by, irreparable time.
As mastered by my subject's charm, I course
Slowly from point to point.
[tr. Williams (1915)]
But time is on the move still, time that will not return,
While we go cruising around this subject whose lore delights us.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]
But time slides past, slides past beyond recall,
While, spellbound, we drift off among details.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]
But meantime it escapes us, time, never to be recaptured, escapes us while we linger over details, captivated by love. [tr. Miles (1980)]
But time is flying, flying beyond recall.
While captivated I linger lovingly,
Touring from this to that.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]
But meanwhile time flies, flies irretrievably,
while, captivated by passion, I describe each detail.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
But meanwhile time flies, it flies beyond recovery
while, captive to each fact, we are carried away by love.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]
Meanwhile, it flies, time flies irretrievably,
while captivated with love we ramble through minutiae.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]
But meanwhile uncoverable time
Is flying, flying past us while we linger,
Enraptured by our theme.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]
I think that if there go on being great wars and great oppressions and many people leading very unhappy lives, probably religion will go on, because I’ve observed that the belief in the goodness of God is inversely proportional to the evidence. When there’s no evidence for it at all, people believe it, and, when things are going well and you might believe it, they don’t.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
(Source)
Collected in Bertrand Russell's BBC Interviews (1959) [UK] and Bertrand Russell Speaks His Mind (1960) [US]. Reprinted (abridged) in The Humanist (1982-11/12), and in Russell Society News, #37 (1983-02).
Money is only a tool in business. It is just a part of the machinery. You might as well borrow 100,000 lathes as $100,000 if the trouble is inside your business. More lathes will not cure it; neither will more money. Only heavier doses of brains and thought and wise courage can cure. A business that misuses what it has will continue to misuse what it can get.
Henry Ford (1863-1947) American industrialist
My Life and Work, ch. 11 “Money and Goods” (1922) [with Samuel Crowther]
(Source)
Poor fool, what makes you promise yourself a long life, when there is not a day of it that goes by in security? Again and again, people who looked forward to a long life have been caught out over it, called away quite unexpectedly from this bodily existence. Nothing commoner than to be told, in the course of conversation, how such a man was stabbed, such a man was drowned; how one fell from a height and broke his neck, another never rose from table, another never finished his game of dice. Fire and sword, plague and murderous attack, it is always the same thing — death is the common end that awaits us all, and life can pass suddenly, like a shadow when the sun goes in.
[Ha stulte, quid cogitas te diu victurum, cum nullum diem habeas securum? Quam multi decepti sunt et insperati de corpore extracti! Quoties audisti a dicentibus, quia ille gladio cecidit, ille submersus est, ille ab alto ruens cervicem fregit, ille manducando obriguit, ille ludendo finem fecit, alius igne, alius ferro, alius peste, alius latrocinio interiit: et sic omnium finis mors est, et vita hominum tanquam umbra cito pertransit.]Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author
The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 1, ch. 23, v. 7 (1.23.7) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
Thou art a fool, if thou think to live long, sith thou art not sure to live one day to the end. How many have been deceived through trust of long life, and suddenly have been taken out of this world or they had thought. How oft hast thou heard say that such a man was slain, and such a man was drowned, and such a man fell and broke his neck ? This man as he ate his meat was strangled, and this man as he played took his death ; one with fire, another with iron, another with sickness, and some by theft have suddenly perished ! And so the end of all men is death, for the life of man as a shadow suddenly fleeth and passeth away.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
You are foolish if you think to live long, since you are not certain to live one day through to the end. How many have been deceived through trusting in a long life who have suddenly been taken out of the world much sooner than they had thought. How often have you heard that such a man was slain, and such a man was drowned, and such a man fell and broke his neck; this man choked on his food, and this man died in his recreation; one by fire, another by the sword, another by sickness, and some by theft have suddenly perished. And so the end of all men is death, and the life of man is as a shadow which suddenly glides and passes away.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]
Ah foole, why dost thou think to live long, when thou canst not promise to thy selfe one day, how many have been deceived and suddenly snatcht away? How often dost thou hear these reports, such a man is slain, another is drowned, a third breaks his neck with a fall, this man died eating, and that man playing? One perished by fire, another by the sword, another of the plague, and another was slain by theeves, thus death is the end of all, and mans life passeth away like a shadow.
[tr. Page (1639), 1.23.29-31]
Does any Confidence of long Life encourage you to defer putting this good Advice in Execution speedily ? Nay, but reflect, fond Man, how little you can promise your self one poor single Day. How many Instances have you before your Eyes, or fresh in your Remembrance, of Persons miserably deluded and disappointed in this Hope, and hurried out of the Body without any warning at all? How often have you been surprized with the News of this Friend being run thro', another drowning crossing the Water, a Third breaking his Neck by a Fall, a Fourth fallen down dead at Table, or choaked with his Meat, a Fifth seized with an Apoplex at Play, a Sixth burnt in his Bed, a Seventh murthered, an Eighth killed by Thieves, a Ninth struck with Lightning, or Blasting, or Pestilence, a Tenth swallow'd up in an Earthquake. Such vast variety of Deaths surround us, and so fleeting a Shadow is the Life of a Man.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.)]
Ah foolish man! why dost thou still flatter thyself with the expectation of a long life, when thou canst not be sure of a single day? How many unhappy fools, deluded by this hope, are in some unexpected moment separated from the body! How often dost thou hear, that one is slain, another is drowned, another by falling from a precipice has broken his neck, another is choaked in eating, another has dropt down dead in the exercise of some favorite diversion; and that thousands, indeed, are daily perishing by fire, by sword, by the plague, or by the violence of robbers! Thus is death common to every age; and man suddenly passeth away as a vision of the night.
[tr. Payne (1803), 1.23.8]
Ah! fool, why dost thou think to live long, when thou canst not promise to thyself one day. How many have been deceived and suddenly snatched away! How often dost thou hear these reports, Such a man is slain, another man is drowned, a third breaks his neck with a fall from some high place, this man died eating, and that man playing! One perished by fire, another by the sword, another of the plague, another was slain by thieves. Thus death is the end of all, and man's life suddenly passeth away like a shadow.
[ed. Parker (1841)]
Ah, foolish man! why dost thou think thou wilt live long, when thou canst not count upon a single day? How many souls, deluded by this hope, are, in some unexpected moment, separated from the body! How often dost thou hear, that "one is slain, another is drowned, another, by falling form a precipice, has broken his neck -- another is choaked in eating; another has dropt down dead in the exercise of some favourite diversion; and that thousands, indeed, are daily perishing by fire, by sword, by the plague, or by the violence of robbers! Thus, death is the end of all; and the life of man passeth away suddenly like a shadow.
[tr. Dibdin (1851)]
Ah, fool! why dost thou think to live long, when thou art not sure of one day? How many thinking to live long have been deceived, and snatched unexpectedly away? How often hast thou heard related, that such a one was slain by the sword; another drowned; another, from a height, broke his neck; one died eating, another playing? Some have perished by fire; some by the sword; some by pestilence; and some by robbers. And so death is the end of all; and man's life suddenly passeth away like a shadow.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
Ah, foolish one! why thinkest thou that thou shalt live long, when thou art not sure of a single day? How many have been deceived, and suddenly have been snatched away from the body! How many times hast thou heard how one was slain by the sword, another was drowned, another falling from on high broke his neck, another died at the table, another whilst at play! One died by fire, another by the sword, another by the pestilence, another by the robber. Thus cometh death to all, and the life of men swiftly passeth away like a shadow.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
Ah! fool, why dost thou think to live long, when thou canst not promise to thyself one day. How many have been deceived and suddenly snatched away! How often dost thou hear these reports, Such a man is slain, another is drowned, a third has broken his neck with a fall, this man died eating, and that man playing! One perished by fire, another by the sword, another by the plague, another was slain by thieves. Thus death is the end of all, and man's life suddenly passeth away like a shadow.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]
Ah, foolish man, why do you plan to live long when you are not sure of living even a day? How many have been deceived and suddenly snatched away! How often have you heard of persons being killed by drownings, by fatal falls from high places, of persons dying at meals, at play, in fires, by the sword, in pestilence, or at the hands of robbers! Death is the end of everyone and the life of man quickly passes away like a shadow.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
Ah fool, why think of living long when you have no certainty of a day? How many are mistaken and unexpectedly snatched away from the body. How often you have heard men say, he is killed by the sword, he is drowned, he broke his neck falling from a height, he choked while eating, he met his end while at play; one perished by fire, another from plague, another by a robber; and so death is the end of all; and man’s life passes suddenly like a shadow.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
Foolish man, how can you promise yourself a long life, when you are not certain of a single day? How many have deceived themselves in this way, and been snatched unexpectedly from life! You have often heard how this man was slain by the sword; another drowned; how another fell from a high place and broke his neck; how another died at table; how another met his end in play. One perishes by fire, another by the sword, another from disease, another at the hands of robbers. Death is the end of all men; and the life of man passes away suddenly as a shadow.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
You fool, why do you imagine you will live a long life. when you cannot be sure of a single day? Many have made this mistake and have been snatched away from life when they least expected it. So often you hear people saying that so and so has been killed in battle, and so and so drowned; another man has fallen from a height and broken his neck; one choked over a meal, another met his end in some sport. Others have died by -- fire, by violence, by sickness, by robbery -- death is the end of all, and the life of man passes by and vanishes like a shadow.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
Foolish one, why do you hope for long life when not even one day is certain? How many there are who think they will live long, but are mistaken and snatched from the body unexpectedly. How often have you heard it said: This man fell by the sword; that man was drowned; another fell and broke his neck; yet another was taken while at table and the other was at sport when the end came. One by fire, another by steel, yet another by pestilence and again another by thieves met his death. Death is the end of all men and man’s life is a shadow that quickly passes by.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
Ah, my foolish friend! why do you think of living a long life when you are not sure of even one day? How many people are tricked and unexpectedly snatched away? How often have you heard it said that someone was murdered, someone else drowned, another broke his neck falling from a high place, yet another choked while eating, and someone else met his end while playing; one person died by fire, another from disease, and another was killed by a robber, and thus death is the end of all, and our life passes suddenly like a shadow.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
Children sweeten labors; but they make misfortunes more bitter.
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) English philosopher, scientist, author, statesman
“Of Parents and Children,” Essays (1625)
(Source)
Life, struck sharp on death,
Makes awful lightning.Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) English poet
Aurora Leigh, Book 1, ll. 210–211 (1856)
(Source)
Dissents speak to a future age. It’s not simply to say, “My colleagues are wrong and I would do it this way.” But the greatest dissents do become court opinions and gradually over time their views become the dominant view. So that’s the dissenter’s hope: that they are writing not for today but for tomorrow.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933-2020) American lawyer and jurist, Supreme Court Justice (1993-2020)
“Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Malvina Harlan,” interview by Nina Totenberg, NPR (2002-05-02)
(Source)
Speaking of Justice John Marshall Harlan and his lone dissent in Civil Rights Cases, 109 U.S. 3 (1883), where the Supreme Court struck down the Civil Rights Act of 1875. Ginsburg was being interviewed for her role in getting a long-lost memoir by Malvina Harlan, the Justice's wife, published as a book.
‘Tis the Glory and Merit of some men to write well, and of others not to write at all.
[La gloire ou le mérite de certains hommes est de bien écrire; et de quelques autres, c’est de n’écrire point.]Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 1 “Of Works of the Mind [Des Ouvrages de l’Esprit],” § 59 (1.59) (1688) [Bullord ed. (1696)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:
'Tis the Glory or the Merit of some Men to write well; and of others not to write at all.
[Curll ed. (1713)]
It is the Glory and Merit of some Men to write well, and of others not to write at all.
[Browne ed. (1752)]
It is the glory and the merit of some men to write well, and of others not to write at all.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
The glory or merit of certain men lies in writing well: that of certain others, in not writing at all.
[tr. Stewart (1970)]
The prosperous fortunes, and the haughty wealth
Of an unrighteous man, we never ought
To deem establish’d on a solid base,
Or that the children of th’ unjust can prosper:
For Time, who from no Father springs, applies
His levell’d line, and shews man’s foul misdeeds.
[οὐδέποτ᾽ εὐτυχίαν κακοῦ ἀνδρὸς ὑπέρφρονά τ᾽ ὄλβον
βέβαιον εἰκάσαι χρεών,
οὐδ᾽ ἀδίκων γενεάν” ὁ γὰρ οὐδενὸς ἐχφὺς
χρόνος δικαίους ἐπάγων κανόνας
δείκνυσιν ἀνθρώπων καχότητας ἐμοί.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 303 (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 305, Barnes frag. 33, Musgrave frag. 6.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:
Think not that the prosperity and riches of the wicked can endure, nor yet the generation of the bad; for Time, sprung from eternity, having a just rule in his hand, shows the wickedness of men.
[Source (1878)]
One ought never to imagine the success of a bad man, and his proud wealth, as secure, nor the lineage of unjust men; for time, which was born from nothing, adduces standards which are just and shows the wickedness of men in spite of all.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]
It must not be believed
that the wicked thrive securely
though puffed-up-proud in their prosperity
nor the long line of injustices go on and on
uninterrupted -- Self-generating Time
(slowly -- slowly) lays
the yardstick of justice --
into the open (at least) brings
all iniquities of men.
For all that. For all that.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
Real education precisely consists in the fact that we see beyond the symbols and the mere machinery of the age in which we find ourselves: education precisely consists in the realization of a permanent simplicity that abides behind all civilizations, the life that is more than meat, the body that is more than raiment. The only object of education is to make us ignore mere schemes of education. Without education, we are in a horrible and deadly danger of taking educated people seriously.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936) English journalist and writer
“Our Note Book,” The Illustrated London News (1905-12-02)
(Source)
What reason, what prudence, is there in wishing to glory in the greatness and extent of the empire, when you cannot point out the happiness of men who are always rolling, with dark fear and cruel lust, in warlike slaughters and in blood, which, whether shed in civil or foreign war, is still human blood; so that their joy may be compared to glass in its fragile splendor, of which one is horribly afraid lest it should be suddenly broken in pieces.
[Quae sit ratio, quae prudentia, cum hominum felicitatem non possis ostendere, semper in bellicis cladibus et in sanguine ciuili uel hostili, tamen humano cum tenebroso timore et cruenta cupiditate uersantium, ut uitrea laetitia comparetur fragiliter splendida, cui timeatur horribilius ne repente frangatur.]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus]
City of God [De Civitate Dei], Book 4, ch. 3 (4.3) (AD 412-416) [tr. Dods (1871)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
You cannot show such estates to be anyway happy, as are in continual wars, and constantly in terror, trouble, and guilt of shedding human blood, though it be their foes’; with what reason or wisdom any man doth wish to glory in the largeness of empire, since all their joy is but as a glass, bright and brittle, and evermore in fear and danger of breaking.
[tr. Healey (1610)]
Is it reasonable and wise to glory in the extent and greatness of the Empire when you can in no way prove that there is any real happiness in men perpetually living amid the horrors of war, perpetually wading in blood? Does it matter whether it is the blood of their fellow citizens or the blood of their enemies? It is still human blood, in men perpetually haunted by the gloomy spectre of fear and driven by murderous passions. The happiness arising from such conditions is a thing of glass, of mere glittering brittleness. One can never shake off the horrible dread that it may suddenly shiver into fragments.
[tr. Zema/Walsh (1950)]
You cannot show that men are happy who live always amid the disasters of war. It matters not whether the blood shed is that of fellow-citizens or of enemies; in any case it is the blood of men. The dark shadow of fear and the lust for blood are always with them. Any joy that they know is like the glitter of brittle glass, which inspires the frightful thought that it may suddenly be shattered.
[tr. Green (Loeb) (1963)]
Is it reasonable, is it sensible, to boast of the extent and grandeur of empire, when you cannot show that men lived in happiness, as they passed their lives amid the horrors of war, amid the shedding of men's blood -- whether the blood of enemies or fellow-citizens -- under the shadow of fear and amid the terror of ruthless ambition? The only joy to be attained had the fragile brilliance of glass, a joy outweighed by the fear that it may be shattered in a moment.
[tr. Bettenson (1972)]
Is it wise or prudent to wish to glory in the breadth and magnitude of an empire when you cannot show that the men whose empire it is are happy? For the Romans always lived in dark fear and cruel lust, surrounded by the disasters of war and the shedding of blood which, whether that of fellow citizens or enemies, was human nonetheless. The joy of such men may be compared to the fragile splendour of glass: they are horribly afraid lest it be suddenly shattered.
[tr. Dyson (1998)]
What reason or sense is there in wanting to boast of the size and expanse of an empire when you cannot show that its people are happy? Or why boast of an empire if its people always dwell in the midst of the disasters of war and the spilling of blood -- the blood of fellow-citizens or the blood of foreign enemies, but, in either case, human blood -- and always live under the dark shadow of fear and in the lust for blood? Any joy they have may be compared to the fragile brilliance of glass: there is always the terrible fear that it will suddenly be shattered.
[tr. Babcock (2012)]
But genius is nothing more nor less than childhood recovered at will — a childhood now equipped for self-expression with manhood’s capacities and a power of analysis which enables it to order the mass of raw material which it has involuntarily accumulated.
[Le génie n’est que l’enfance retrouvée à volonté, l’enfance douée maintenant, pour s’exprimer, d’organes virils et de l’esprit analytique qui lui permet d’ordonner la somme de matériaux involontairement amassée.]Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
“Le Peintre de la Vie Moderne [The Painter of Modern Life],” sec. 3 (1863) [tr. Mayne (1964)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:
But genius is simply childhood recovered at will, a childhood now equipped for self-expression, with mature faculties and an analytic spirit which permit him to set in order the mass of raw material he has involuntarily accumulated.
[tr. Kline (2020)]
Genius is only childhood recovered at will, childhood now gifted to express itself with the faculties of manhood and with the analytic mind that allows him to give order to the heap of unwittingly hoarded material.
[Source]
But genius is no more than childhood recaptured at will, childhood equipped now with man’s physical means to express itself, and with the analytical mind that enables it to bring order into the sum of experience, involuntarily amassed.
[Source]
LEAR: O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 3, sc. 4, l. 24ff (3.4.24-25) (1606)
(Source)
I have heard people say we should be strong so that if there is another war we can win it, then show the world the right way to live afterward. This is old stuff, and it is poppycock. Our behavior hardly qualifies us as world leaders. Ours is one of the most conservative governments in the world today, and one of the most bumbling. We have more provincialism and bigotry and superstition and prejudice per square mile than almost any other nation. We like to think of ourselves as a young, progressive country, but, while we do have energy, we have become smug and self-satisfied.
The art of the parenthesis is one of the great secrets of eloquence in society.
[L’art de la parenthèse est un des grands secrets de l’éloquence dans la Société.]
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. 3, ¶ 243 (1795) [tr. Sinicalchi]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:
The art of the parenthesis is one of the great secrets of social eloquence.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]
The art of parenthesis is one of the great secrets of eloquence in society.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]
A book is a garden; a book is an orchard; a book is a storehouse; a book is a party. It is company by the way; it is a counselor; it is a multitude of counselors.
Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887) American clergyman and orator
Proverbs From Plymouth Pulpit, “The Press” (1887) [ed. Drysdale]
(Source)
Here rests Erotion’s all-too-hurried shade,
dispatched in her sixth winter by Fate’s crime.
Make yearly offerings to her tiny ghost,
whoever rules this plot after my time.
So may your home and household last for years
with nothing but this stone to call for tears.[Hic festinata requiescit Erotion umbra,
Crimine quam fati sexta peremit hiems.
Quisquis eris nostri post me regnator agelli,
Manibus exiguis annus iusta dato:
Sic lare perpetuo, sic turba sospite solus
Flebilis in terra sit lapis iste tua.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 10, epigram 61 (10.61) (AD 95, 98 ed.) [tr. McLean (2014)]
(Source)
See also his epitaph to Erotion at 5.34.
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
In her sixth spring, behold Erotion laid:
If heaven we might arrain, an early shade.
Bland successor, whoe'er shall rule this field,
To my blest shadeling annual honors yield.
So may thy verdant vine perennial stand:
So may her teeming shoots o'erspred the land.
So may'st thou never feel a tendrel tor'n:
And may this single stone in thy dominion mourn.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 4, ep. 20]
Underneath this greedy stone,
Lies little sweet Erotion;
Whom the fates, with hearts as cold,
Nipt away at six years old.
Thou, whoever thou mast be,
That hast this small field after me,
Let the yearly rites be paid
To her little slender shade;
So shall no disease or jar
Hurt thy house, or chill thy Lar;
But this tomb here be alone,
The only melancholy stone.
[tr. Hunt (1819)]
Here reposes Erotion in the shade of the tomb that too early closed around her, snatched away by relentless Fate in her sixth winter. Whoever you are that, after me, shall rule over these lands, render annual presents to her gentle shade. So, with undisturbed possession, so, with your family ever in health, may this stone be the only one of a mournful description on your domain.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]
Here lies Erotion in the shade
Of foliage planted newly.
In her sixth winter did she fade,
Cut off by fate unduly.
Thou, whosoe'er thou be, to whom
Ere long these fields I render,
The annual offerings at her tomb
Discharge; they are but slender.
So, son succeeding sire, from thee
No victims death shall borrow:
But on thy land this stone shall be
The only mark of sorrow.
[tr. Webb (1879)]
Here lies Erotion, whom at six years old
Fate pilfered. Stranger (when I too am cold
Who shall succeed me in my rural field),
To this small spirit annual honours yield.
Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy babes, I crave,
And this, in thy green farm, the only grave.
[tr. Stevenson (1883)]
Here in too early gloom rests Erotion whom, by crime of Fate, her sixth winter laid low. Whoe'er thou shalt be, the lord after me of my little field, to her tiny ghost pay thou year by year thy rites. So may they roof-tree continue, so thy household live unscathed, and in thy fields this gravestone alone call forth a tear!
[tr. Ker (1919)]
Here sleeps the body of the little maid,
Erotion,
Ere her sixth winter fate had called her shade
To hasten on;
Whoe’er thou art who after me shall own
This tiny plot,
Lay year by year the dues upon her stone;
Forget her not.
So shall thy house endure nor suffering know,
And this remain
The only sign and monument of woe
On thy domain.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]
Here lies Erotion at untimely date,
In his sixth year cut down by cruel fate.
You, my successor in this little field,
To his poor ashes annual tribute yield.
So prosper house and home, and on this land
No other monument of mourning stand.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 556]
Here lies our Erotion
in the untimely shadow of a gravestone.
Her sixth winter hurried her on
to an end that was destined.
I address the future owner of this land,
and ask his yearly reverence, made
to this slender shade:
May your household gods
forever flourish and your whole household enjoy
a happy life --
and may this single stone
be the one place for grief
on your land alone.
[tr. Bovie (1970)]
Here, six years old, by Destiny's crime
Made a ghost before her time,
Erotion lies. Whoever you be
Next lord of my small property,
See that the due of death are paid
Annually to her slender shade:
So may your hearth burn bright and strong,
Your household thrive, yourself live long,
And this small stone, throughout the years,
Remain your only cause for tears.
[tr. Michie (1972)]
Here lies Erotion's hastened shade, whom by crime of Fate her sixth winter slew. Make annual offering to her tiny ghost, whoever after me shall be ruler of my plot of land. So may your home continue and your household live on and this stone be the only thing on your property to call for tears.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]
Here in premature gloom Erotion rests
whose sixth winter now will last forever.
Whoever tends this small field after me,
pay each year homage to her slender ghost:
then you will prosper here and never
weep, except this stone bring her to memory.
[tr. Matthews (1995)]
To suffer torments both of heat and chill,
the Utmost Power gives bodies, fit for that,
not wishing how it does to be revealed.
It’s madness if we hope that rational minds
should ever follow to its end the road
that one true being in three persons takes.
Content yourselves with quia, human kind.
Had you been able to see everything,
Mary need not have laboured to give birth.[A sofferir tormenti, caldi e geli
simili corpi la Virtù dispone
che, come fa, non vuol ch’a noi si sveli.
Matto è chi spera che nostra ragione
possa trascorrer la infinita via
che tiene una sustanza in tre persone.
State contenti, umana gente, al quia;
ché, se potuto aveste veder tutto,
mestier non era parturir Maria.]Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 3, l. 31ff (3.31-39) (1314) [tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
(Source)
Virgil chides Dante to stop trying to figure out the biology, let alone divine purpose, of the Afterlife, and just accept the what (quia), the existence of it, rather than the how or why, which are as incomprehensible as the Trinity; if human reason could suffice to understand God, there would have been no reason for Jesus to have been born to save humanity.
(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
Why these sky-woven forms, that seem to fly
All mortal sense, can suffer and enjoy
Heav'n's bliss, and all th' extremes of fire and frost,
That Power that so decrees, can best explain:
Created plummet sounds that depth in vain.
In that, as in the Trinal Union, lost.
Too anxious mortals! learn to be resign'd;
Could the deep secrets of th' Almighty Mind
Be seen, nor Sin nor Savior had been known.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 7-8]
To endure
Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames
That virtue hath dispos’d, which how it works
Wills not to us should be reveal’d. Insane
Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,
Which holds three persons in one substance knit.
Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been
For Mary to bring forth.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
To suffer torments, both the cold and hot,
Bodies alike in form has he annealed --
The how he wishes not to use revealed.
Foolish! who think our reason can unveil,
Or hope to pass the infinital way
To find three persons one Substantiality:
Remain content without the manner how.
Could you have seen at once the whole of worth,
Why was it meet Maria should bring forth?
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
That how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
Can traverse the illimitable way,
Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!
Mortals, remain contented at the Quia;
For if ye had been able to see all,
No need there were for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
To suffer torments both of heat and cold that Power ordains such bodies, which will not that the manner of its working be revealed to us. Mad is he who hopes that our reason can travel over the boundless way, which one Substance in three Persons holds. Remain content, race of mankind, at the quia, for if you could have seen all no need was there that Mary should bring forth.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
To suffer torments, heat, and cold, is given
To bodies like to this, by high decree,
The how 'tis done by man cannot be riven.
He's mad who thinks our human reason free
Along the infinite career to run,
Of God, the substance one in Persons three.
Be ye content, O man, the Why unknown:
Had ye been able to behold the whole,
No need had Mary to bring forth her son.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
To suffer torments, both hot and cold, bodies like this the Power ordains, which wills not that how it acts be revealed to us. Mad is he who hopes that our reason can traverse the infinite way which One Substance in Three Persons holds. Be content, human race, with the quia; for if ye had been able to see everything, need had not been for Mary to bear child.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
To suffer torments, heat and frost, bodies such as these that power disposes, which will not that its workings be revealed to us.
Mad is he who hopes that our reason may compass that infinitude which one substance in three persons fills.
Be ye content, O human race, with the quia! For if ye had been able to see the whole, no need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Okey (1901)]
The Power fits such bodies as these to suffer torments of heat and frost which wills not that the way of its working should be revealed to us. Foolish is he who hopes that our reason can trace the infinite ways taken by one Substance in three Persons. Rest content, race of men, with the quia; for if you had been able to see all there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
That power disposes bodies like to mine
In torments both of heat and frost to weep
Which wills not that its working we divine.
He is mad who hopes that reason in its sweep
The infinite way can traverse back and forth
Which the Three Persons in one substance keep.
With the quia stay content, children of earth!
For if the whole before your eyes had lain,
No need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Bodies like mine, to bear pain, cold and heat,
That power ordains, whose will forever spreads
A veil between its working and our wit.
Madness! that reason lodged in human heads
should hope to traverse backward and unweave
The infinite path Three-personed Substance treads.
Content you with the quia, sons of Eve,
For had you power to see the whole truth plain
No need had been for Mary to conceive.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]
We react
within these bodies to pain and heat and cold
according to the workings of That Will
which does not will that all Its ways be told.
He is insane who dreams that he may learn
by mortal reasoning the boundless orbit
Three Persons in One Substance fill and turn.
Be satisfied with the quia of cause unknown,
O humankind! for could you have seen All,
Mary need not have suffered to bear a son.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]
To suffer torments, heat, and frost, bodies such as these that Power ordains, which wills not that the way of its working be revealed to us. Foolish is he who hopes that our reason may compass the infinite course taken by One Substance in Three Persons. Be content, human race, with the quia; for if you had been able to see everything, no need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]
Yet bodies such as ours are sensitivev
to pain and cold and heat -- willed by that Power
which wills its secret not to be revealed;
madness it is to hope that human minds
can ever understand the Infinite
that comprehends Three Persons in One Being.
Be staisfied with quia unexplained,
O human race! If you knew everything,
no need for Mary to have borne a son.
[tr. Musa (1981)]Omnipotence disposes bodies like mine
To suffer torments both from heat and cold,
And how it does so, does not see fit to reveal.
Only a madman would expect our reason
To follow all that infinite approach
And understand one substance in three persons.
The human race should be content with the quia:
For if it had been able to see everything,
No need for Mary to have had a child.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The Power has disposed such bodiless
bodies to suffer torments, heat and cold:
how this is done, He would not have us know.
Foolish is he who hopes our intellect
can reach the end of that unending road
only one Substance in three Persons follows.
Confine yourselves, o humans, to the quia;
had you been able to see all, there would
have been no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]
Such bodies are disposed to suffer torments, heat, and freezings by the Power that does not wish its ways to be unveiled to us.
He is mad who hopes that our reason can traverse the infinite way taken by one Substance in three Persons.
Be content, human people, with the quia; for if you had been able to see everything, there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Durling (2003)]
That power, that does not will that its workings should be revealed to us, disposes bodies such as these to suffer torments, fire and ice. He is foolish who hopes that our reason may journey on the infinite road, that one substance in three persons owns. Stay, content, human race, with the ‘what’: since if you had been able to understand it all, there would have been no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
The Power that fits bodies like ours
to suffer torments, heat, and cold
does not reveal the secret of its working.
Foolish is he who hopes that with our reason
we can trace the infinite path
taken by one Substance in three Persons.
Be content, then, all you mortals, with the quia,
for could you, on your own, have understood,
there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
These bodies were made by God, they endure troubles,
And heat, and frost -- but we are not informed
How this is accomplished; He does not want us to know.
You have to be mad, hoping that human reason
Can ever unravel the infinite things He does,
Three Persons simultaneously only One.
Be satisfied, O humans, with Reality,
For had you ever been able to see and know
It all, why bother with God in Mary's womb?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
But if I err in this Opinion, that the Soul of Man is immortal, sure it is a pleasing Error, so pleasing that I can never shake it off while I live.
[Quod si in hoc erro, qui animos hominum immortalis esse credam, libenter erro nec mihi hunc errorem, quo delector, dum vivo, extorqueri volo.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 23 / sec. 85 (23.85) (44 BC) [tr. J. D. (1744)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
But if it be in erroure and oute of trouthe aftir the doctryne and scole of Epycures by cause that I beleve that the soules be undedly and Immortelle perdurable and evirlastyng I answere you that this errour pleasith me and I consente me in it right gladly and as long tyme as I lyve I wille not that any philosopher nor any othir of what condicyon that evir he be take awey fro me this erroure wherin I delyte me.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]
And if I do err because I think that the souls of men be immortal, verily I am well contented in the same error still to continue, and as long as I live I will never renounce nor recant the same, wherein I take such singular pleasure and comfort.
[tr. Newton (1569)]
But if I do erre that the soules of men bee immortall, I do err willingly, neither will I while I live be wrested from mine opinion wherein I am delighted.
[tr. Austin (1648), ch. 24]
My hope's, if this assurance hath deceiv'd,
(That I Man's Soul Immortal have believ'd)
And if I erre, no Pow'r shall dispossess
My thoughts of that expected happiness.
[tr. Denham (1669), Part 4]
But if I should be mistaken in this Belief, that our Souls are immortal, I am however pleased and happy in my Mistake; nor while I live, shall it ever be in the Power of Man, to beat me out of an Opinion, that yields me so solid a Comfort, and so durable a Satisfaction.
[tr. Logan (1744)]
And after all should this my firm persuasion of the soul's immortality prove to be a mere delusion, it is at least a pleasing delusion, and I will cherish it to my latest breath.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]
But if I err in this, that I believe the soules of men to be immortal, I err willingly, nor do I wish this error to be wrested from me while I live.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]
And if I am wrong in this, that I believe the souls of men to be immortal, I willingly delude myself : nor do I desire that this mistake, in which I take pleasure, should be wrested from me as long as I live.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]
But if I err in believing that the souls of men are immortal, I am glad thus to err, nor am I willing that this error in which I delight shall be wrested from me so long as I live.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]
But if I am wrong in thinking the human soul immortal, I am glad to be wrong; nor will I allow the mistake which gives me so much pleasure to be wrested from me as long as I live.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
But if in thinking souls immortal thus,
I am in error, I confess to you,
It is an error that I glory in,
And being so pleasant, I would not desire
To lose it while I live.
[tr. Allison (1916)]
And if I err in my belief that the souls of men are immortal, I gladly err, nor do I wish this error which gives me pleasure to be wrested from me while I live.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]
Even if I am mistaken in my belief that the soul is immortal, I make the mistake gladly, for the belief makes me happy, and is one which as long as I live I want to retain.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
And if I am deluded in believing that the soul of man is immortal, then I am glad to be deluded, and I hope no one, as long as I live, will ever wrench this delusion from me.
[tr. Copley (1967)]
But if I am mistaken in this belief of mine that the souls of men are immortal, then I am happy to be mistaken; but as long as I am still alive, I have no wish to be disabused of my mistake.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]
I may be wrong in my belief in the immorality of the spirit: there are philosophers who think I am. I like my faith and I don't want to lose it.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]
And if it is an error of mine to imply
That man is endowed with immortal soul,
I err with pleasure and promptly console
Myself as long as I am alive and spry.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
And if I’m wrong in my belief that souls are immortal, then gladly do I err, for this belief, which I hope to maintain as long as I live, makes me happy.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]
This process of the good life is not, I am convinced, a life for the faint-hearted. It involves the stretching and growing of becoming more and more of one’s potentialities. It involves the courage to be. It means launching oneself fully into the stream of life.
After all, the only proper intoxication is conversation.
Writers do not live one life, they live two. There is the living and then there is the writing. There is the second tasting, the delayed reaction.
Dissatisfaction with the world in which we live and determination to realize one that shall be better, are the prevailing characteristics of the modern spirit.
G. Lowes Dickinson (1862-1932) British political scientist and philosopher [Goldsworthy "Goldie" Lowes Dickinson]
The Greek View of Life, ch. 5 “Conclusion” (1911)
(Source)
Historians may be dogmatists, I know, though not so often now as when history was dogma. At least you will perhaps agree that even a smattering of history and especially of letters will go far to dull the edges of uncompromising conviction. No doubt one may quote history to support any cause, as the devil quotes scripture; but modern history is not a very satisfactory side-arm in political polemics; it grows less and less so.
Learned Hand (1872-1961) American jurist
“Sources of Tolerance,” speech, University of Pennsylvania Law School (1930-06)
(Source)
Collected in The Spirit of Liberty (1953).
Now a cat will not take an excursion merely because a man wants a walking companion. Walking is a human habit into which dogs readily fall but it is a distasteful form of exercise to a cat unless he has a purpose in view.
Carl Van Vechten (1880-1964) American writer and photographer
The Tiger in the House: A Cultural History of the Cat, ch. 2 (1920)
(Source)
There are few things more dangerous than inbred religious certainty.
I think of Art, at its most significant, as a DEW line, a Distant Early Warning system, that can always be relied on to tell the old culture what is beginning to happen to it.
Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980) Canadian philosopher, communication theorist, educator
Quoted in Richard Schickel, “Marshall McLuhan: Canada’s Intellectual Comet,” Harper’s Magazine (1965-11)
(Source)
There’s many a slip betwixt the observation and the conclusion.
Austin O'Malley (1858-1932) American ophthalmologist, professor of literature, aphorist
Keystones of Thought (1914)
(Source)
Even within the university world, where the highest calling should be to spark the fires of intellectual exploration and to prepare young minds for engaged and productive participation in our democracy, the mandates of the market have attained prominence. The narrow quest for success crowds out the noble effort to be great — greatness understood as using one’s success to make the world a better place for all.
Cornel West (b. 1953) American philosopher, political activist, social critic
Democracy Matters, ch. 6 (2004)
(Source)
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
A prohibitionist is the sort of man one wouldn’t care to drink with — even if he drank.
H. L. Mencken (1880-1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 3, § 10 (1916)
(Source)
Variant:
PROHIBITIONIST. The sort of man one wouldn't care to drink with, even if he drank.
A Book of Burlesques, "The Jazz Webster" (1924)
When you have helped raise the standard of cooking, you have helped raise the only thing in the world that really matters anyhow. We only have one or two Wars in a lifetime but we have three meals a day. There is nothing in the world that we do as much of as we do eating.
Will Rogers (1879-1935) American humorist
Fashions in Foods in Beverly Hills, Foreword (1929)
(Source)
The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, especially if you tell him how flat it is.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 3 (1966)
(Source)
Titan! to whom immortal eyes
The sufferings of mortality
Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise;
What was thy pity’s recompense?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The suffocating sense of woe,
Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh
Until its voice is echoless.
Great minds had rather deserve contemporaneous applause, without obtaining it, than obtain, without deserving it; if it follow them, it is well, but they will not deviate to follow it. With inferior minds the reverse is observable; so that they can command the flattery of knaves while living, they care not for the execrations of honest men, when dead.
Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist
Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 1, § 6 (1820)
(Source)
We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Sahara. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively outnumbers the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.
Richard Dawkins (b. 1941) English ethologist, evolutionary biologist, author
Unweaving The Rainbow, ch. 1 “The Anaesthetic of Familiarity” (1998)
(Source)
Dawkins has said this passage will be read at his funeral.
And even when I reproach myself for it, the love of praise tempts me. There is temptation in the very process of self-reproach, for often, by priding himself on his contempt for vainglory, a man is guilty of even emptier pride; and for this reason his contempt of vainglory is an empty boast, because he cannot really hold it in contempt as long as he prides himself on doing so.
[[Amor laudis] temptat et cum a me in me arguitur, eo ipso quo arguitur, et saepe de ipso vanae gloriae contemptu vanius gloriatur, ideoque non iam de ipso contemptu gloriae gloriatur: non enim eam contemnit cum gloriatur.]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus]
Confessions, Book 10, ch. 38 / ¶ 63 (10.38.63) (c. AD 398) [tr. Pine-Coffin (1961)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:
[Love of praise] tempts, even when it is reproved by myself in myself, on the very ground that it is reproved; and often glories more vainly of the very contempt of vain-glory; and so it is no longer contempt of vain-glory, whereof it glories; for it doth not contemn when it glorieth.
[tr. Pusey (1838)]
[Love of praise] tempts, even when within I reprove myself for it, on the very ground that it is reproved; and often man glories more vainly of the very scorn of vain-glory; wherefore it is not any longer scorn of vain-glory whereof it glories, for he does not truly contemn it when he inwardly glories.
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]
[Love of praise] tempts, even when I condemn it in myself, and from the very fact that it is condemned; and often glories more vainly in the very contempt of vain-glory; and therefore it ceases to be contempt of vain-glory, whereof it glories; for it does not really contemn it when it so glories.
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]
Love of praise tempts me even when I reprove it in myself, indeed in the very fact that I do reprove it: a man often glories the more vainly for his very contempt of vainglory: for which reason he does not really glory in his contempt of glory; in that he glories in it, he does not contemn it.
[tr. Sheed (1943), 10.39]
[Love of praise] tempts me, even when I inwardly reprove myself for it, and this precisely because it is reproved. For a man may often glory vainly in the very scorn of vainglory--and in this case it is not any longer the scorn of vainglory in which he glories, for he does not truly despise it when he inwardly glories in it.
[tr. Outler (1955)]
Even when [love of praise] is rebuked within myself by myself, it affords temptation by the very fact that it is rebuked. Often, out of very contempt of glory a man derives an emptier glory. No longer, therefore, does he glory in contempt of vainglory: he does not despise it, in as much as he glories over it.
[tr. Ryan (1960)]
Indeed [the love of praise] tempts me even in the very act of condemning it; often in our contempt of vainglory we are merely being all the more vainglorious, and so one cannot really say that one glories in the contempt of glory; for one does not feel contempt for something in which one glories.
[tr. Warner (1963)]
[Love of praise] is a temptation, even when shown up by myself and in myself. "Shown up" is the right word. It often boasts emptily over its very scorn for empty boasting, which thus ceases to be the scorn of which it boasts. The boaster does not in truth despise it, when he boasts about it.
[tr. Blaiklock (1983)]
[Hankering for praise] is a real temptation to me, and even when I am accusing myself of it, the very fact that I am accusing myself tempts me to further self-esteem. We can make our very contempt for vainglory a ground for preening ourselves more vainly still, which proves that what we are congratulating ourselves on is certainly not contempt for vainglory; for no one who indulges in it can be despising it.
[tr. Boulding (1997)]
This life is a hospital in which every patient is haunted by the desire to change beds. This one wants to suffer in front of the stove, and that one believes he will recover next to the window.
[Cette vie est un hôpital où chaque malade est possédé du désir de changer de lit. Celui-ci voudrait souffrir en face du poêle, et celui-là croit qu’il guérirait à côté de la fenêtre.]Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Le Spleen de Paris (Petits Poèmes en Prose), No. 48 “Any Where Out of the world” (1869) [tr. Kaplan (1989)]
(Source)
The title of the original is in English, a line from Thomas Hood, "The Bridge of Sighs." It is often subtitled with the French translation, "N’importe où hors du monde," which are the final lines.
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:
Life is a hospital, in which every patient is possessed by the desire of changing his bed. One would prefer to suffer near the fire, and another is certain that he would get well if he were by the window.
[tr. Symons (<1919)]
This life is a hospital where every patient is possessed with the desire to change beds; one man would like to suffer in front of the stove, and another believes that he would recover his health beside the window.
[tr. Hamburger (1946)]
Life is a hospital where every patient is obsessed by the desire of changing beds. One would like to suffer opposite the stove, another is sure he would get well beside the window.
[tr. Varèse (1970)]
This life is a hospital where each patient is possessed with the desire of changing his bed. One would like to suffer in front of the stove, and another believes he would get well beside the windows.
[tr. Fowlie (1992)]
This life is a hospital, where each patient is possessed by the desire to change beds. That one prefers to suffer nearer the stove and this one believes he would get well next to the window.
[tr. Waldrop (2009)]