Yes, poor doggie, you are very stupid, very stupid indeed, compared with us clever men, who understand all about politics and philosophy, and who know everything in short, except what we are, and where we came from, and whither we are going, and what everything outside this tiny world and most things in it are.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859–1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Cats and Dogs” (1889)
(Source)
Were you to reach the ripe old age of death,
instead of dying prattling in your crib,
would you have more fame in a thousand years?
What are ten centuries to eternity?
Less than the blinking of an eye compared
to the turning of the slowest of the spheres.[Che voce avrai tu più, se vecchia scindi
da te la carne, che se fossi morto
anzi che tu lasciassi il ‘pappo’ e ’l ‘dindi’,
pria che passin mill’anni? ch’è più corto
spazio a l’etterno, ch’un muover di ciglia
al cerchio che più tardi in cielo è torto.]Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 11, l. 103ff (11.103-108) [Oderisi of Gubbio] (1314) [tr. Musa (1981)]
(Source)
Dante refers to two childish terms, which various translators note as
- "pappo" perhaps "father" (padre), or "bread" (pane) or just "baby food" (cf. English "pap")
- "dindi," probably "money" (danari/denaro)
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:Ah! where's your 'vantage, if yon cast away,
In years, the muddy vesture of decay,
As when the swathe involves your tender frame?
Can you suppose her long, sonorious blast,
Thro' twice six thousand changing Moons, will last?
Yet, what is that to Heav'n's eternal year? --
Less, than the quick glance of human eye,
To that slow movement of the ample Sky,
That turns around the universal Sphere!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 20-21]Shalt thou more
Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh
Part shrivel’d from thee, than if thou hadst died,
Before the coral and the pap were left,
Or ere some thousand years have passed? and that
Is, to eternity compar’d, a space,
Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye
To the heaven’s slowest orb.
[tr. Cary (1814)]More fame shalt thou enjoy, if once old age
Wear flesh away, than if thou hadst expired
Ere left the breast, or coral last admired?
A thousand years' eternity to thee
Far shorter than the eyebrow's movement fleet
To slowest orbit stars of heaven complete.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off
From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead
Before thou left the 'pappo' and the 'dindi,'
Ere pass a thousand years? which is a shorter
Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye
Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]What fame wilt thou have more, if when it is old thou loose from thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst died before thou hadst left off thy child's prattle, ere a thousand years are past? which beside the eternal is a shorter space than is a movement of the eyelid beside the circle which in heaven turns the slowest.
[tr. Butler (1885)]If thou stripp'st off thy aged flesh, wilt share
More fame than if thou'dst early died in grace
Before thou'dst ceased thy childish prattle,
A thousand years have past? A briefer space
Beside the eternal, than a glance of the eye
By that star's orbit, longest whirled through space.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]What more fame shalt thou have, if thou strippest old flesh from thee, than if thou hadst died ere thou hadst left the pap and the chink, before a thousand years have passed? -- which is a shorter space compared to the eternal than a movement of the eyelids to the circle that is slowest turned in Heaven.
[tr. Norton (1892)]What greater fame shalt thou have, if thou strip thee of thy flesh when old, than if thou hadst died ere thou wert done with pap and chink,
before a thousand years are passed? which is shorter space to eternity than the twinkling of an eye to the circle which slowest is turned in heaven.
[tr. Okey (1901)]What more fame shalt thou have if thou put off thy flesh when it is old than if thou hadst died before giving up pappo and dindi, when a thousand years are past, which is a shorter space to eternity than the twinkling of an eye to the slowest turning circle in the heavens?
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]Wilt thou have more fame if old age unwrap
Thy bones from withered flesh than if thy race
Ended ere thou wert done with bib and pap
Before a thousand years pass, -- shorter space
To eternity than is a blinked eye-lid
To the circle in heaven that moves at slowest pace?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]Ten centuries hence, what greater fame hast thou,
Stripping the flesh off late, than if thou'dst died
Ere thou was done with gee-ger and bow-wow?
Ten centuries hence -- and that's a brief tide,
Matched with eternity, than one eye-wink
to that wheeled course Heaven's tardiest sphere must ride.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]Though loosed from flesh in old age, will you have
in, say, a thousand years, more reputation
than if you went from child's play to the grave?
What, to eternity, is a thousand years?
Not so much as the blinking of an eye
to the turning of the slowest of the spheres.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]What greater fame will you have if you strip off your flesh when it is old than if you had died before giving up pappo and dindi, when a thousand years have passed, which is a short4er space compared to the eternal than the movement of the eyelids to that circle which is slowest turned in heaven?
[tr. Singleton (1973)]What greater name will you have, if you are old
When you put aside your flesh, than if you had died
Before you had given up baby-talk and rattles,
Once a thousand years have passed? And that is a shorter
Space to the eternal than the flash of an eyelid
To the circle which turns in the heavens most slowly.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]Before a thousand years have passed -- a span
that, for eternity, is less space than
an eyeblink for the slowest sphere in heaven --
would you find greater glory if you left
your flesh when it was old than if your death
had come before your infant words were spent?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]What more acclaim will you have if you strip off your flesh when it is old, than if you had died before you left off saying ‘pappo’ and ‘dindi,’
before a thousand years have passed? which is a briefer space compared with eternity than the blinking of an eye to the circle that turns slowest in the sky
[tr. Durling (2003)]What more fame will you have, before a thousand years are gone, if you disburden yourself of your flesh when old, than if you had died before you were done with childish prattle? It is a shorter moment, in eternity, than the twinkling of an eye is to the orbit that circles slowest in Heaven.
[tr. Kline (2002)]What more renown will you have if you strip
your flesh in age away than if you died
before you’d left off lisping "Din-dins!", "Penth!"
when once a thousand years have passed, a space
that falls far short of all eternity --
an eye blink to the slowest turning sphere.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]Will greater fame be yours if you put off
your flesh when it is old than had you died
with pappo and dindi still upon your lips
after a thousand years have passed? To eternity,
that time is shorter than the blinking of an eye
is to one circling of the slowest-moving sphere.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]Suppose you get to be old, before you discard
Your flesh, how much more fame will go with your name,
After a thousand years, if "Pappy" and "Mammy"
were still on your tongue when you died? And a thousand years
Compared with life eternal, is like an eyelid
Flutter compared with the slowest stars int he skies.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved.
At your approach the neighbours flee,
What is the cause that makes them flout you.
And that wherever you may be
A desert seems to spread about you?A tigress of her whelps bereft
May fill the bravest heart with terror;
Untouched the basking snake is left
And handling scorpions is an error;But you provide a peril worse —
Tis this, you overact the poet;
When you persist in reading verse,
Could any patience undergo it?For though I run or stand or sit
With verse my ears are still blockaded;
Aye, at the baths I must submit,
My privy chambers are invaded,You stop me on my way to dine,
Then wearied by your droning numbers
My seat at table I resign —
I fall asleep — you break my slumbers.Observe the evil that you do.
Though good, men hold you as pernicious ;
And thus an upright bore like you
Makes even virtue look suspicious.[Occurrit tibi nemo quod libenter,
Quod, quacumque venis, fuga est et ingens
Circa te, Ligurine, solitudo,
Quid sit, scire cupis? Nimis poeta es.
Hoc valde vitium periculosum est.
Non tigris catulis citata raptis,
Non dipsas medio perusta sole,
Nec sic scorpios inprobus timetur.
Nam tantos, rogo, quis ferat labores?
Et stanti legis et legis sedenti,
Currenti legis et legis cacanti.
In thermas fugio: sonas ad aurem.
Piscinam peto: non licet natare.
Ad cenam propero: tenes euntem.
Ad cenam venio: fugas sedentem.
Lassus dormio: suscitas iacentem.
Vis, quantum facias mali, videre?
Vir iustus, probus, innocens timeris.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 3, epigram 33 (3.44) (AD 87-88) [tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]
(Source)
"To Ligurinus." (Source (Latin)). Other translations:That none would meet thee willingly,
But where so ere thou com'st, all fly
O Ligurinus, wouldst thou know it?
The cause is th' art too much a Poet.
That fault is wondrous dangerous.
No Tiger robb'd of whelpes by us
So much is fear'd, no Scorpion,
Nor Dipsas basking in the Sun.
For who can ere endure such paine?
Standing thou read'st, sitting againe;
Running, and at the privy too.
To th' bath I goe; there readest thou.
I goe to swimme; thy Booke delayes me.
I goe to supper; thence it stayes me.
When I am set, thy reading makes me
To rise; and when I sleepe, it wakes me.
Behold, what hurt thou dost. None can
Brooke thee a just, good, harmelesse man.
[tr. May (1629)]You come: away flies every mother's son:
On Bagshot Heath you can't be more alone.
If you ask, why? -- You are bewitch'd with rhime:
And this, believe me, is a dangerous crime.
Robb'd of her whelps a tigress thus we shun;
Or viper basking in the noon-day sun:
Not more the dreadful scorpion's sting we fear,
Than this incessant lugging by the ear.
Standing or sitting, you repeat your lays:
On my close-stool I hear them; in my chaise:
Your trumpet on the water strikes my ear.
I at Vaux-haull no other music hear.
When dinner waits, you seise me by the button:
At table plac'd, you drive me from my mutton:
From a sweet nap you rouse me by your song.
How much by this yourself and me you wrong!
The man of worth the poet makes us fly;
And by your verse we lose your probity.
[tr. Hay (1755)]That happiness and thee can no man meet,
Where'er thou rom'st, that one and all retreat;
That thee a solitude immense surrounds,
The why thy knowledge and thy wit confounds.
The why is this: thou art a very poet.
The fault is not, to be one; but to show it.
Not so, of whelps bereft a tigress dire;
Not so, a sunburnt serpent in her ire;
Us not the balefull scorpion so can scare:
What living man con constant murder bear?
Standers thou readest down, and those that sit;
And him that runs, and him that works his wit.
Flying into the bath, I waters limn:
Plunging into the pond, I may not swim.
I haste to supper; thou detain'st in spite:
I lean at supper: thou enjoy'st my flight.
When sleep would mercifully seal mine eyes,
Thou mercilessly bidd'st the slumb'rer rise.
Would'st comprehend what words thou work'st of woe?
The cause and consequence one word shall show.
A man for parts and probity rever'd,
Thou art by all, insted of worshipt, FEAR'D.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 7, ep. 25]Do you wish to know the cause why no one willingly meets you? that wherever you come, Ligurinus! you put people to flight, and create a solitude around you? The cause is, that you are too much of a poet. This is a very perilous fault. A tiger exasperated by the capture of her whelps, a serpent scorched by the mid-day sun, a fierce scorpion are objects of less dread. For, I ask, who would willingly sustain the labours you are in the habit of imposing? You read your verses to the stander, you read them to the sitter, you read them to the runner, you read them to every one, whatever he is about. I fly to the warm baths, your voice sounds in my ear. I seek a cold bath, you interrupt my swimming. I hasten to supper, you detain me on the way; I have got to supper before you, you oblige me to change my seat. I am wearied with hearing you, and go to sleep, you rouse me as I recline on my couch. Do you desire to know the harm you do? Just, moral, innocent as you are known to be by all men, by all men you are feared.
[tr. Amos (1858), "An Inopportune Reciter"]Do you wish to know the reason, Ligurinus, that no one willingly meets you; that, wherever you come, everybody takes flight, and a vast solitude is left around you? You are too much of a poet. This is an extremely dangerous fault. The tigress aroused by the loss of her whelps, the viper scorched by the midday sun, or the ruthless scorpion, are less objects of terror than you. For who, I ask, could undergo such calls upon his patience as you make? You read your verses to me, whether I am standing, or sitting, or running, or about private business. I fly to the hot baths, there you din my ears: I seek the cold bath, there I cannot swim for your noise: I hasten to dinner, you stop me on my way; I sit down to dinner, you drive me from my seat: wearied, I fall asleep, you rouse me from my couch. Do you wish to see how much evil you occasion? -- You, a man just, upright, and innocent, are an object of fear.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]Why everybody shuns your sight,
And why, since all are put to flight,
Wherever your approach is viewed,
The place is one vast solitude : --
This, Ligurinus, would you know?
You're too poetical, I trow.
'Tis dangerous having this repute.
Not savage tigress in pursuit
Of them that stole her whelps away,
Not serpent, scorched by burning ray
Of Libya's sun, not scorpion fell
Is deemed by all so terrible.
For, prythee tell me, who could bear
The burdens you for folk prepare?
Should I stand by, your rhymes you read;
Or if I sit, you still proceed.
To the hot baths I fly for fear:
You din your verses in my ear.
Chased thence, I seek the plunge-bath's brim:
But while you're ranting, who could swim?
To dinner then I haste: alack!
Just as I start, you hold me back.
The table reached, I fain would eat:
You scare me as I take my seat.
Quite wearied out, to sleep I try:
You rouse me ere I down can lie.
Shall I, my friend, make plain to you
What serious mischief 'tis you do?
All fear you still, and fly you far,
Good, upright, blameless as you are.
[tr. Webb (1879)]The cause of the rout
When it's rumored you're out,
Since you wish, Ligurinus, to know it.
Of your making bare space
Of a populous place
Is just this -- you're too much of a poet.
It 's a terrible thing.
This craving to sing:
No tiger that 's robbed of her youngling.
No snake in the sun,
No irate scorpion
Is so feared as your metrical bungling.
Whether one's sitting down.
Or is walking down town.
Or is even engaged with his toilet,
Or stretching a limb
In a run at the gym,
Up you come with an eclogue to spoil it.
When I flee to the bath
You are fast on my path,
Bawling ballads that drive me phrenetic.
I jump in the tank
And reflect if I sank
That drowning's at least anaesthetic.
When I run out to meals
You recite at my heels,
Read me epitaphs while I'm at table.
I retire, wearied out.
And am waked by your shout
That I must hear your versified fable.
Now a poet's worst rhymes
May be doubtful at times.
But the best ones of yours are outrageous
You see now, I trust,
Why, though honest and just.
You are treated like something contagious.
[tr. Nixon (1911), "The Progress of Poesy"]That no man willingly meets you, that, wherever you arrive, there is flight and vast solitude around you, Ligurinus, do you want to know what is the matter? You are too much of a poet. This is a fault passing dangerous. No tigress roused by the robbery of her cubs, no viper scorched by tropic suns, nor deadly scorpion is so dreaded. For who, I ask you, would endure such trials? You read to me while I am standing, and read to me when I am sitting; while I am running you read to me, and read to me while I am using a jakes. I fly to the warm baths: you buzz in my ear; I make for the swimming bath: I am not allowed to swim; I haste to dinner: you detain me as I go; I reach the table: you rout me while I am eating. Wearied out, I sleep: you rouse me up as I lie. Do you want to appreciate the evil you cause? Though you are a man just, upright, and harmless, you are a terror.
[tr. Ker (1919)]That no one, Ligurinus, likes to meet
Your visage, that there's panic in the street
At your approach, the reason, would you know it?
Well, Ligurinus, you're too much a poet.
A grievous fault, with perilous mischief fraught.
No tigress, for her captive brood distraught,
Puff-adder sweltering in the noon-tide heat,
Or ruthless scorpion is so dread to meet.
Who can endure it? Standing, in repose,
Your strain pursues me; while I bathe it flows.
I seek the swimming-pool; no refuge there.
I haste to dinner; there's another scare.
Weary I sleep; you wake me. What's your error?
Just, righteous, harmless, you're a holy terror.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 138]No one wants to meet you: When you arrive
there’s a wild rush for the exits,
and a great vacuum develops around you.
You want to know why?
It’s because you’re too much the poet.
Your art poses a decidedly dangerous threat,
it makes you more to be feared than a leaping tigress
whose cubs have been taken from her;
worse than midday heat that makes thirsty people frantic,
worse than the vengeful scorpion, are you to be feared.
Who can stand up under the punishing work
you heap on our shoulders? You read your stuff
when I'm standing still, you read your stuff
when I'm on the run, you read your stuff
when I'm on the pot. I head for the baths
where your voice bounces off the walls
and dins in my ears. I try the swimming pool --
but you won't let me swim. As I'm hurrying off
to a dinner party, you detain me to listen,
and when I get there, there you are too,
pursuing me when I'm supine on the couch,
tired, I like down to sleep, but you
have to wake me up to listen.
Can't you bring yourself to see how much wrong
you're doing me? Here you are, a fine honest fellow,
an innocent bystander --
and we're all scared to death of you.
[tr. Bovie (1970)]Why, you ask, whenever you show your face
Is there a public stampede, a vast unpopulated space?
The answer -- you may as well know it --
Is that you overact the poet:
A grave fault,
Ligurinus, and one which could easily earn you assault.
The tigress robbed of her young,
The scorpion's tail, the heat-crazed puff-adder's tongue
Are proverbial, but you're worse;
For who can endure ordeal by verse?
You read to me when I'm standing and when I'm sitting,
When I'm running and when I'm shitting,
If I head for the warm baths you make my ears buzz with your din,
If I want a cold dip you stop me from getting in,
If I'm hurrying to dinner you detain me in the street,
If I reach the table you rout me out of my seat,
If I collapse, exhausted, into bed you drag me to my feet.
Do you never pause
To consider the havoc you cause?
You're a decent citizen, upright and pious,
But, by God, you terrify us!
[tr. Michie (1972)]Do you wish to know why it is, Ligurinus, that nobody is glad to meet you, that, wherever you go, there is flight and a vast solitude around you? You are too much of a poet. This is a very dangerous fualt. A tigress roused by the theft of her cubs is not feared os much, nor yet a viper burnt by the midday sun, nor yet a vicious scorpion. For I ask you, who would endure such trials? You read to me as I stand, you read to me as I sit, you read to me as I run, you read to me as I shit. I flee to the baths: you boom in my ear. I head for the pool: I'm not allowed to swim. I hurry to dinner: you stop me in my tracks. I arrive at dinner: you drive me away as I eat. Tired out, I take a nap: you rouse me as I like. Do you care to see how much damage you do? A just man, upright and innocent, you are feared.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]You wonder why no people pay you heed?
Well, I'll unveil the mystery -- you read.
Incessantly, you foist on us your rhymes,
A legendary peril of our times.
No mother tiger snarling near her cubs,
No snake attacking us despite our clubs,
No scorpion paralyzingly come near,
Can deal us such humiliating fear
As you, in undeterr'd reciting mode
Producing endless drivel by the load.
I stop and you are dinning in my ear,
I run and hear you panting in the rear.
you fill our homes with unremitting roar.
I even hear you through the outhouse door.
A public nuisance at the public bathing,
For tow'ls you give us pages for our swathing.
To dinner we go in, out comes your verse.
The same old tired nonsenses or worse.
At street corners we timorously look
To seek if you are lurking in a nook,
Poised to bombard us with your lethal book.
I go to bed and still I hear you drone.
Have you no soundproof hovel of your own?
Some honesty you have, but far below it,
You are that deepest pestilence -- a poet.
[tr. Wills (2007)]
There is no Negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem. And we are met here tonight as Americans — not as Democrats or Republicans — we are met here as Americans to solve that problem.
This was the first nation in the history of the world to be founded with a purpose. The great phrases of that purpose still sound in every American heart, North and South: “All men are created equal” — “government by consent of the governed” — “give me liberty or give me death.” Well, those are not just clever words, or those are not just empty theories. In their name Americans have fought and died for two centuries, and tonight around the world they stand there as guardians of our liberty, risking their lives.
Those words are a promise to every citizen that he shall share in the dignity of man. This dignity cannot be found in a man’s possessions; it cannot be found in his power, or in his position. It really rests on his right to be treated as a man equal in opportunity to all others. It says that he shall share in freedom, he shall choose his leaders, educate his children, and provide for his family according to his ability and his merits as a human being.
To apply any other test — to deny a man his hopes because of his color or race, his religion or the place of his birth — is not only to do injustice, it is to deny America and to dishonor the dead who gave their lives for American freedom.Lyndon B. Johnson (1908–1973) American politician, educator, US President (1963–69)
Speech (1965-03-15), “The American Promise,” Joint Session of Congress [07:41]
(Source)
For all you can hold in your cold dead hand
Is what you have given away.Joaquin Miller (1837–1913) American poet [pen name of Cincinnatus Heine (or Hiner) Miller]
“Peter Cooper (Died 1883),” ll. 11-12, In Classic Shades and Other Poems (1890)
(Source)
This phrasing of the sentiment seems to have been made by Miller, but the sentiment itself predates him in various ways. See, for example, Martial, Epigram 5.42 (AD 90): "You keep thus always what you gave."
Edward Gibbon, in his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,, ch. 61 (1776), notes the epitaph of 15th Century Earl Edward Courtenay of Devonshire:What we gave, we have;
What we spent, we had;
What we left, we lost.
Miller was himself quoted by Edwin M. Poteat, President of Furman University, in his poem "What You Have Given Away" (1909). Poteat put the phrase in quotation marks, but is sometimes still given full credit.
Elbert Hubbard may have been borrowing from Miller in his Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great, Vol. 12 "Great Scientists," "Haeckel" (collected in 1916, but published earlier), where he writes:We keep things by giving them to others. The dead carry in their clenched hands only that which they have given away; and the living carry only the love in their hearts which they have bestowed on others.
Finally, often in the variant form "All we can hold in our cold dead hands is what we have given away," the phrase is today often identified as a Sanskrit proverb. The universality of thought means it may well have an ancient Indian inspiration, but the language may indicate a tie to Miller's poem, as promulgated. The "Sanscrit proverb" appears as such in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations (1922), but not in the 1896 edition. This may be taken from a letter to the editor, New York Times (1908-07-25) by Emily Noble, identifying this as the translation of a Sanskrit proverb.
A person who lacks the means, within himself, to live a good and happy life will find any period of his existence wearisome. But rely for life’s blessings on your own resources, and you will not take a gloomy view of any of the inevitable consequences of nature’s laws. Everyone hopes to attain an advanced age; yet when it comes they all complain! So foolishly inconsistent and perverse can people be.
[Quibus enim nihil est in ipsis opis ad bene beateque vivendum, eis omnis aetas gravis est; qui autem omnia bona a se ipsi petunt, eis nihil malum potest videri quod naturae necessitas adferat. Quo in genere est in primis senectus, quam ut adipiscantur omnes optant, eandem accusant adeptam; tanta est stultitiae inconstantia atque perversitas.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 2 / sec. 4 (2.4) [Cato] (44 BC) [tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:For eche of thies ages which men name Childhode, adolescence, yongth, virilite, manhode & olde age semyn to be hevy & noxous to men the which in them silf have nothyng that may help & socoure them to lyve goodly & blessidly as bee, the which excercisen sciences & vertues & good werkis, but as to suche men which sechyn & fyndyn in themsilf alle the goods & thyngis which belongyn wele & blessidly for to lyve, ther is nothyng that comyth to them in age by the defaute of nature that may seme unto them evyll nor noxous. It is certayne that olde age is suche that it serchith & fyndyth in it self all the goodnesses whch longen to live wel & blyssidly, and yet is olde age such that alle men desyre to come untyll hit, And never the lesse the mutablenes & evyl dysposicion of men it is so grete in oure dayes that they blamyn olde age whan they be come therto by cause that then they may not use delectacions.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]For they that have no power, pith of wit, help, way nor virtue in themselves to conduct and bring them to a good and blessed life, unto such as these be, all their age is cumbersome and unpleasant. But unto such as lead their lives virtuously, measuring all their actions by the square of reason, and have their minds with all good gifts of grace beautified and garnished, there is nothing thought nor deemed evil that cometh by necessity of nature. Of the which sort old age is principally to be considered, unto which all men wish to arrive, and yet when they have their desire, they accuse it as painful, sickly, unpleasant and tedious, such is the brainless unconstancy, foolish sottage, and perverse overthwartness of wayward people.
[tr. Newton (1569)]For that age is only grievous to those that have no taste of wisdome and learning in themselves to make them live happily: but to them which see all perfection and consolation from their own experience, nothing can seem heavy which the necessity of nature bringeth: of which sort old age is chief, which all desire to obtain, and blame being obtained; such is their unconstancy, foolishnesse and perversity.
[tr. Austin (1648)]For to those who have nothing within themselves capable of making Life happy, and satisfactory, no wonder if every Stage of it should prove irksome, and vexatious: but, to those who derive all their satisfaction from an easy mind, nothing can seem grievous and tormenting, that proceeds from the irreversible Laws of Nature; which certainly is the case of Old Age,, whereunto though 'tis the earnest desire of all men to arrive, yet such is their unaccountable folly, and perverseness, that they are never more uneasy than when they have arrived at it.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]All Ages are grievous to those who have not in themselves the Means of living Holy and Happy; but those who expect all Happiness from their own Virtues, don't look up on the Decay of Nature as a Hardship, whereof Old Age is the chiefest, and which all desire to attain to; but is no sooner tasted than declaim'd against. Such are the Effects of Inconstancy, Folly, and the Want of Wisdom.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]For know this, that those who have no Aid or Support within themselves, to render their Lives easy, will find every State irksome: While such as are convinced, they must owe their Happiness to themselves, and that if they cannot find it in their own Breasts, they will never meet with it from abroad; will never consider any thing as an Evil, that is but a necessary Effect of the established Order of Nature; which Old Age most undoubtedly is. 'Tis certainly strange, that while all Men hope they may live to attain it, any should find Fault with it, when it comes their Share. Yet such is the Levity, Folly, and Perverseness of Mankind, that we see there is nothing more common.
[tr. Logan (1744)]Those indeed who have no internal resource of happiness, will find themselves uneasy in every stage of human life: but to him who is accustomed to derive all his felicity from within himself, no state will appear as a real evil into which he is conducted by the common and regular course of nature. Now this is peculiarly the case with respect to old age : yet such is the inconsistency of human folly, that the very period which at a distance is every man's warmest wish to attain, no sooner arrives than it is equally the object of his lamentations.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]For to those that have nought of resource in themselves for living well and happily, every stage of life is burthensome; while to those that seek all their goods from themselves, nothing can seem an evil, which the law of Nature may bring them. In which class foremost stands old age, which all desire to attain, but arraign the same when attained; so great is the inconsistency and perverseness of folly.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]For to those who have no resource in themselves for living well and happily, every age is burdensome; but to those who seek all good things from themselves, nothing can appear evil which the necessity of nature entails; in which class particularly is old age, which all men wish to attain, and yet they complain of it when they have attained it; so great is the inconsistency and waywardness of folly.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]For those who have in themselves no resources for a good and happy life, every period of life is burdensome; but to those who seek all goods from within, nothing which comes in the course of nature can seem evil. Under this head a place especially belongs to old age, which all desire to attain, yet find fault with it when they have reached it. Such is the inconsistency and perverseness of human folly.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]But those who look for all happiness from within can never think anything bad which nature makes inevitable. In that category before anything else comes old age, to which all wish to attain, and at which all grumble when attained. Such is Folly's inconsistency and unreasonableness!
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]Of course
To those who've no resources in themselves
For a good and happy life, why, every age
Is hard to bear: but those who have within
All that is needful for a life well-spent,
Can never find misfortune in the lot
That nature's laws impose. And one such lot
Is that old age must come to each and all,
Old age so fondly hoped for, when it comes,
So Oft found to be irksome. Such, alas!
Is Folly's want of reason and resolve.
[tr. Allison (1916)]For to those who have not the means within themselves of a virtuous and happy life every age is burdensome; and, on the other hand, to those who seek all good from themselves nothing can seem evil that the laws of nature inevitably impose. To this class old age especially belongs, which all men wish to attain and yet reproach when attained; such is the inconsistency and perversity of Folly!
[tr. Falconer (1923)]People, you see, who have no inner resources for living the good and happy life, find every age a burden. But men who seek all good from within themselves are simply unable to view as evil anything that comes about through nature’s law. Now old age, as much as anything else in this world, is such a thing. All men hope and pray to attain it; once they have attained it, they start finding fault with it.
[tr. Copley (1967)]Some people just do not possess the optimism that would allow them to live contentedly under any circumstances: for them every stage of life is a burden. But if only they expected nothing but good for themselves, nothing that the natural passage of time brought them could seem bad. This is especially true of old age. Everybody wants to live for a long time, but when they have attained their goal, they grumble. It makes no sense -- but that’s what life is: perverse and inconsistent.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]Someone who doesn't have much in the way of inner resources will find all stages of life irksome, but someone whose character is in order will accept what nature brings and not complain about something perfectly natural, calling it evil. There is much nonsense bandied about old age, something which everyone wishes to reach, but which most complain about once they get there. That seems more than slightly inconsistent and perverse, doesn't it?
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]They find every age oppressive, of course,
Who in their inner selves have no resource
To live an easy life in happiness,
But they who in themselves only find
Their own contentment and peace of mind
See no harm in nature’s due process
Whose termination inevitably
May lead to that state of senility
To which they keenly lay claim,
But once attained rather foolishly,
With malice and incongruity,
Promptly find reasons to blame.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]Those who lack within themselves the means for living a blessed and happy life will find any age painful. But for those who seek good things within themselves, nothing imposed on them by nature will seem troublesome. Growing older is a prime example of this. Everyone hopes to reach old age, but when it comes, most of us complain about it. People can be so foolish and inconsistent.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]Every age is burdensome to those who have no means of living well and happily. But to those who seek all good from themselves, nothing which the necessity of nature offers can appear bad. Old age is a prime example of this sort of thing -- everyone wishes to attain it, but they always complain about it once it is attained. Such is the inconstancy and perversity of stupidity.
[tr. Robinson [@sentantiq] (2017)]
We are in this lifetime together. And maybe it’s possible to appreciate the other guy for the way his mind works, even when he’s not working your way.
Norman Lear (1922–2023) American television writer-producer
“What makes Norman Lear, at 98, still tick?”, interview by Jonathan LaPook, CBS News Sunday Morning (2021-01-10)
(Source)
Shall I tell you the secret of the true scholar? It is this: Every man I meet is my master in some point, and in that I learn of him.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) American essayist, lecturer, poet
“Greatness,” Letters and Social Aims (1876)
(Source)
This appears to be the origin of the much more common paraphrase (not found in Emerson's works, but popularized by Dale Carnegie in How to Win Friends and Influence People (1936)): "In my walks, every man I meet is my superior in some way, and in that, I learn from him."
If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it is hard to be sought out and difficult.
[ἐὰν μὴ ἔλπηται ἀνέλπιστον οὐκ ἐξευρήσει, ἀνεξερεύνητον ἐὸν καὶ ἄπορον]Heraclitus of Ephesus (c.540-c.480 BC) Greek philosopher [Ἡράκλειτος, Herákleitos, Heracleitus]
Fragment 18 [tr. Burnet (1920), DK B18]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:He who does not expect will not find out the unexpected, for it is trackless and unexplored.
[tr. Kahn (1981), VI (D. 18)]He who does not expect the unexpected will not find it out.
[tr. Kahn (1981), VI (D. 18), variant]He who does not expect the unexpected will not find it, since it is trackless and unexplored.
[tr. Allan (2008)]Unless you expect the unexpected, you will not find it, for it is hidden and thickly tangled.
[tr. Jenks (2014)]
Should novels generally be 600 pages? No, they should not. Half of writing, maybe 3/4 of writing, is editing. This seems to be a thing that has not gotten through to them. It’s my impression that you could get rid of half of most of these books. These people are not good enough to be this long, but they’re apparently also not good enough to be shorter.
Fran Lebowitz (b. 1950) American journalist, essayist
Interview by Susannah McNeely, Ruminator Magazine (2005-08/09)
How does it help us to say that the Bible is the inerrant word of God if in fact we don’t have the words that God inerrantly inspired, but only the words copied by the scribes — sometimes correctly but sometimes (many times!) incorrectly? What good is it to say that the autographs (i.e., the originals) were inspired? We don’t have the originals! We have only error-ridden copies, and the vast majority of these are centuries removed from the originals and different from them, evidently, in thousands of ways.
Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) American Biblical scholar, author
Misquoting Jesus, Introduction (2005)
(Source)
Nothing endures unless it has first been transposed into a myth, and the great advantage of myths is that they are ladies with portable roots.
We are talking about a nine-month bout of symptoms of varying severity, often including nausea, skin discolorations, extreme bloating and swelling, insomnia, narcolepsy, hair loss, varicose veins, hemorrhoids, indigestion, and irreversible weight gain, and culminating in a physiological crisis which is occasionally fatal and almost always excruciatingly painful. If men were equally at risk from this condition — if they knew their bellies might swell as if they were suffering from end-stage cirrhosis, that they would have to go nearly a year without a stiff drink, a cigarette, or even an aspirin, that they would be subject to fainting spells and unable to fight their way onto commuter trains — then I am sure that pregnancy would be classified as a sexually transmitted disease and abortions would be no more controversial than emergency appendectomies.
“Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.”
Pooh thought for a little.
“How old shall I be then?”
“Ninety-nine.”
Pooh nodded.
“I promise,” he said.A. A. Milne (1882–1956) English poet and playwright [Alan Alexander Milne]
The House at Pooh Corner, ch. 10 [Christopher Robin and Pooh] (1928)
(Source)
Possibly the inspiration of the spurious Pooh quotation:If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.
For more discussion about this and related quotes, see May You All Live Forever. May I Live Forever Less A Day – Quote Investigator®.
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892–1950) American poet
“When I too long have looked upon your face,” ll. 5-8, Second April, Sonnet 7 (1921)
(Source)
It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to exercise either of them.
Mark Twain (1835–1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Following the Equator, ch. 20, Epigraph (1897)
(Source)
Cited as from Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar. Sometimes misquoted "... never to practice either."
A war which is destroying men as they have never been destroyed before, from which at the best the nations will emerge permanently degraded in their stock, poorer in physique, duller in intelligence, weaker in will than they went in, this war is to be protracted until the whole manhood of Europe is decimated, in order — in order to what? Let us ask in detail.
In order, we are told, that the Germans may ‘feel they are beaten.’ And then? They will be good in future? They will admit they were wrong? They will lick the hand that chastised them? Who believes it? The more completely they are beaten, the more obstinately they will be set on recovery. When France was beaten to the dust in 1870, did she repent for having provoked the war? On the contrary, she gathered up her forces for revenge. And Germany will do the same.G. Lowes Dickinson (1862–1932) British political scientist and philosopher [Goldsworthy "Goldie" Lowes Dickinson]
“The War and the Way Out: A Further Consideration,” sec. 2, Atlantic Monthly (Apr 1915)
(Source)
The condition of our survival in any but the meagerest existence is our willingness to accommodate ourselves to the conflicting interests of others, to learn to live in a social world.
Learned Hand (1872–1961) American jurist
“To Yale Law Graduates,” speech, Yale Law School (1931-06-07)
(Source)
Collected in The Spirit of Liberty (1953).
If a dog jumps in your lap, it is because he is fond of you. If a cat does the same thing, it is because your lap is warmer.
Alfred North Whitehead (1861–1947) English mathematician and philosopher
In Lucien Price, ed., Dialogues of Alfred North Whitehead, Dialogue 25, 1941-12-10 (1954)
(Source)
Men will readily enough avow cruelty, passion, even avarice, but never cowardice, because such an admission would bring them, among savages and even in civilized society, into mortal danger.
[Les hommes avouent volontiers la cruauté, la colère, l’avarice même, mais jamais la lâcheté, parce que cet aveu les mettrait, chez les sauvages et même dans une société polie, en un danger mortel.]
Anatole France (1844–1924) French poet, journalist, novelist, Nobel Laureate [pseud. of Jaques-Anatole-François Thibault]
The Gods Will Have Blood [Les Dieux Ont Soif], ch. 19 [Brotteaux] (1912) [tr. Allinson (1913), The Gods Are Athirst]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Another translation:Men willingly post of their cruelty, their anger, their greed even, but never of their cowardice, because to admit such a thing would put them, whether in a primitive or a civilized society, in mortal peril.
[tr. Davies (1979)]
TARTUFFE: Some joys, it’s true, are wrong in Heaven’s eyes;
Yet Heaven is not averse to compromise;
There is a science, lately formulated.
Whereby one’s conscience may be liberated,
And any wrongful act you care to mention
May be redeemed by purity of intention.
I’ll teach you. Madam, the secrets of that science;
Meanwhile, just place on me your full reliance.
Assuage my keen desires, and feel no dread:
The sin, if any, shall be on my head.[Le ciel défend, de vrai, certains contentements;
Mais on trouve avec lui des accommodements.
Selon divers besoins, il est une science
D’étendre les liens de notre conscience,
Et de rectifier le mal de l’action
Avec la pureté de notre intention.
De ces secrets, madame, on saura vous instruire ;
Vous n’avez seulement qu’à vous laisser conduire.
Contentez mon désir, et n’ayez point d’effroi ;
Je vous réponds de tout, et prends le mal sur moi.]Molière (1622–1673) French playwright, actor [stage name for Jean-Baptiste Poquelin]
Tartuffe, or the Hypocrite [Le Tartuffe, ou L’Imposteur], Act 4, sc. 5 (1669) [tr. Wilbur (1963)]
(Source)
The pious fraud, Tartuffe, attempting to seduce Orgon's wife, Elmire. Moliere does a certain amount of CYA by inserts a note at this line, "A scoundrel is speaking [C’est un scélérat qui parle.]"
The passage mirrors Pascal's assertion in the seventh Provinciale that "When we cannot prevent the action, we at least purify the intention' and thus we correct vice by means of the purity of the end."
(Source (French)). Other translations:Heav'n 'tis true, forbids certain Gratifications. But then there are ways of compounding those Matters. It is a Science to stretch the Strings of Conscience according to the different Exigences of the Cawe, and to rectify the Immorality of the Action by the Purity of our Intention. These are Secrets, Madam, I can instruct you in; you have nothing to do, but passively to be conducted. Satisfy my Desire, and fear nothing, I'll answer for you, and will take the Sin upon myself.
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications, but there are ways and means of compounding such matters. According to our different wants, there is a science which loosens that which binds our conscience, and which rectifies the evil of the act with the purity of our intentions. We shall be able to initiate you into these secrets, Madam; you have only to be led by me. Satisfy my desires, and have no fear; I shall be answerable for everything, and shall take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Van Laun (c. 1870), 4.5]It is true that Heaven forbids certain gratifications, but there are means of compounding with it upon such matters., and of rectifying the evil fo the act by the purity of the intention. We shall be able to initiate you into all those secrets, madam; all you have to do is to suffer yourself to be led by me. Satisfy my wishes, and be without fear. I will be answerable for everything and take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Wall (1879), 4.5]Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications; but there are ways of compounding these matters. There is a science of stretching the strings of our conscience, according to different exigencies, and of rectifying the wrongness of the action by the purity of our intention. In these secrets, madame, I know how to instruct you, and all you have to do is to let me guide you. Satisfy my wishes, madame, and have no fear. I will answer for you, and take any wrong on myself.
[tr. Mathew (1890), 4.4]Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications; but there are ways of compounding with it. It is a science to stretch the string of our conscience according to divers needs and to rectify the immorality of the act with the purity of our intention. I can initiate you into these secrets, Madam; you have only to allow yourself to be led. Satisfy my desire, and do not be afraid: I will be answerable for you in everything, and I will take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Waller (1903), 4.5]Heaven forbids, 't is true, some satisfactions;
But we find means to make things right with Heaven.
There is a science, madam, that instructs us
How to enlarge the limits of our conscience
According to our various occasions,
And rectify the evil of the deed
According to our purity of motive.
I'll duly teach you all these secrets, madam;
You only need to let yourself be guided.
Content my wishes, have no fear at all;
I answer for't, and take the sin upon me.
[tr. Page (1909), 4.5]It's true that heaven forbids some satisfactions,
But there are possible ways to understandings.
To suit our various needs, there is a science
Of loosening the bonds of human conscience,
And rectifying the evil of an action
By means of the purity of our intention.
Madame, I shall instruct you in these secrets,
If you will put your confidence in me.
Content my longings, do not be afraid;
All the responsibility is mine ...
[tr. Bishop (1957)]It's true, there are some pleasures Heaven denies;
But there are ways to reach a compromise.
Yes, now there is a science that succeeds
In stretching consciences to meet our needs,
And can correct, by a sublime invention,
An evil deed just by a pure intention.
To all this there are keys I can provide you;
All you need do, Madame, is let me guide you.
Content my longings, free yourself of dread:
If there is sin, I’ll take it on my head.
[tr. Frame (1967), 4.5]It's true that Heaven forbids certain pleasures,
but it's possible to make bargains.
Depending on what's needed,
there are ways to accommodate our consciences
and to justify bad acts
by the purity of our intentions.
I can be your teacher, Madame;
you have only to let me be your guide.
Satisfy my desire; never fear,
I'll answer for it all and take you sin on.
[tr. Steiner (2008), 4.5]Heaven forbids certain pleasures, in theory;
But one can always get round that;
According to requirement, it is a science
To stretch the limits of our conscience
And to balance out the evil of the deed
With the purity of the intention.
Nothing simpler, My Lady, than to instruct you in these mysteries;
You need only let yourself be led.
Give me what I want and have no fear:
I'll take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Campbell (2013)]Heaven forbids, in truth, certain contentments;
But we find with him accomodations;
According to various needs, it is a science
To extend the bonds of our consciousness
And to rectify the evil of action
With the purity of our intention.
Of these secrets, Madam, we will know how to instruct you;
You just have to let yourself be driven.
Satisfy my desire, and have no fear:
I answer you for everything, and take evil on me.
[Source]It's true Heaven forbids some pleasures, but a compromise can usually be found.
[E.g.]
That man is the richest whose pleasures are cheapest.
Importance may be sometimes purchased too dearly.
How little it takes to make life perfect! A good sauce, a cocktail after a hard day, a girl who kisses with her mouth half open!
H. L. Mencken (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 4, § 21 (1916)
(Source)
So let’s be honest with ourselves and not take ourselves too serious, and never condemn the other fellow for doing what we are doing every day, only in a different way.
Will Rogers (1879–1935) American humorist
Article (1926-07-31), “Letter of a Self-Made Diplomat to His President,” Saturday Evening Post
(Source)
Collected in Letters of a Self-Made Diplomat to His President (1926).
We hear only half of what is said to us, understand only half of that, believe only half of that, and remember only half of that.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913–1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 5 (1963)
(Source)
And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny;
His wretchedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence:
To which his Spirit may oppose
Itself — and equal to all woes,
And a firm will, and a deep sense,
Which even in torture can decry
Its own concenter’d recompense,
Triumphant where it dares defy,
And making Death a Victory.
This life of ours — if a life so full of such great ills can properly be called a life — bears witness to the fact that, from its very start, the race of mortal men has been a race condemned. Think, first, of that dreadful abyss of ignorance from which all error flows and so engulfs the sons of Adam in a darksome pool that no one can escape without the toll of toils and tears and fears. Then, take our very love for all those things that prove so vain and poisonous and breed so many heartaches, troubles, griefs, and fears; such insane joys in discord, strife, and war; such wrath and plots of enemies, deceivers, sycophants; such fraud and theft and robbery; such perfidy and pride, envy and ambition, homicide and murder, cruelty and savagery, lawlessness and lust; all the shameless passions of the impure — fornication and adultery, incest and unnatural sins, rape and countless other uncleannesses too nasty to be mentioned; the sins against religion — sacrilege and heresy, blasphemy and perjury; the iniquities against our neighbors — calumnies and cheating, lies and false witness, violence to persons and property; the injustices of the courts and the innumerable other miseries and maladies that fill the world, yet escape attention.
It is true that it is wicked men who do such things, but the source of all such sins is that radical canker in the mind and will that is innate in every son of Adam. For, our infancy proves with what ignorance of the truth man enters upon life, and adolescence makes clear to all the world how full we are of folly and concupiscence. In fact, if anyone were left to live as he pleased and to do what he desired, he would go through practically the whole gamut of lawlessnesses and lust — those which I have just listed and, perhaps, others that I refrained from mentioning.[Nam quod ad primam originem pertinet, omnem mortalium progeniem fuisse damnatam, haec ipsa uita, si uita dicenda est, tot et tantis malis plena testatur. Quid enim aliud indicat horrenda quaedam profunditas ignorantiae, ex qua omnis error existit, qui omnes filios Adam tenebroso quodam sinu suscepit, ut homo ab illo liberari sine labore dolore timore non possit? Quid amor ipse tot rerum uanarum atque noxiarum et ex hoc mordaces curae, perturbationes, maerores, formidines, insana gaudia, discordiae, lites, bella, insidiae, iracundiae, inimicitiae, fallacia, adulatio, fraus, furtum, rapina, perfidia, superbia, ambitio, inuidentia, homicidia, parricidia, crudelitas, saeuitia, nequitia, luxuria, petulantia, inpudentia, inpudicitia, fornicationes, adulteria, incesta et contra naturam utriusque sexus tot stupra atque inmunditiae, quas turpe est etiam dicere, sacrilegia, haereses, blasphemiae, periuria, oppressiones innocentium, calumniae, circumuentiones, praeuaricationes, falsa testimonia, iniqua iudicia, uiolentiae, latrocinia et quidquid talium malorum in mentem non uenit et tamen de uita ista hominum non recedit? Verum haec hominum sunt malorum, ab illa tamen erroris et peruersi amoris radice uenientia, cum qua omnis filius Adam nascitur. Nam quis ignorat cum quanta ignorantia ueritatis, quae iam in infantibus manifesta est, et cum quanta abundantia uanae cupiditatis, quae in pueris incipit apparere, homo ueniat in hanc uitam, ita ut, si dimittatur uiuere ut uelit et facere quidquid uelit, in haec facinora et flagitia, quae commemoraui et quae commemorare non potui, uel cuncta uel multa perueniat?]
Augustine of Hippo (354–430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus]
City of God [De Civitate Dei], Book 22, ch. 22 (22.22) (AD 412-416) [tr. Walsh/Honan (1954)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Concerning man’s first origin, our present life (if such a miserable estate can be called a life) does sufficiently prove that all his children were condemned in him. What else does that horrid gulf of ignorance confirm, whence all error has birth, and wherein all the sons of Adam are so deeply drenched, that none can be freed without toil, fear, and sorrow? What else does our love of vanities affirm, whence there arises such a tempest of cares, sorrows, repinings, fears, mad exultations, discords, altercations, wars, treasons, furies, hates, deceits, flatteries, thefts, rapines, perjuries, pride, ambition, envy, murder, parricide, cruelty, villainy, luxury, impudence, unchastity, fornications, adulteries, incests, several sorts of sins against nature (filthy even to be named), sacrilege, heresy, blasphemy, oppression, calumnies, circumventions, deceits, false witnesses, false judgments, violence, robberies, and suchlike out of my remembrance to reckon, but not excluded from the life of man? All these evils are belonging to man, and arise out of the root of that error and perverse affection which every son of Adam brings into the world with him. For who does not know in what a mist of ignorance (as we see in infants) and with what a crew of vain desires (as we see in boys) all mankind enters this world, so that if man were left unto his own election, he would fall into most of the aforesaid mischiefs?
[tr. Healey (1610)]That the whole human race has been condemned in its first origin, this life itself, if life it is to be called, bears witness by the host of cruel ills with which it is filled. Is not this proved by the profound and dreadful ignorance which produces all the errors that enfold the children of Adam, and from which no man can be delivered without toil, pain, and fear? Is it not proved by his love of so many vain and hurtful things, which produces gnawing cares, disquiet, griefs, fears, wild joys, quarrels, lawsuits, wars, treasons, angers, hatreds, deceit, flattery, fraud, theft, robbery, perfidy, pride, ambition, envy, murders, parricides, cruelty, ferocity, wickedness, luxury, insolence, impudence, shamelessness, fornications, adulteries, incests, and the numberless uncleannesses and unnatural acts of both sexes, which it is shameful so much as to mention; sacrileges, heresies, blasphemies, perjuries, oppression of the innocent, calumnies, plots, falsehoods, false witnessings, unrighteous judgments, violent deeds, plunderings, and whatever similar wickedness has found its way into the lives of men, though it cannot find its way into the conception of pure minds? These are indeed the crimes of wicked men, yet they spring from that root of error and misplaced love which is born with every son of Adam. For who is there that has not observed with what profound ignorance, manifesting itself even in infancy, and with what superfluity of foolish desires, beginning to appear in boyhood, man comes into this life, so that, were he left to live as he pleased, and to do whatever he pleased, he would plunge into all, or certainly into many of those crimes and iniquities which I mentioned, and could not mention?
[tr. Dods (1871)]This very life, if life it can be called, pregnant with so many dire evils, bears witness that from its very beginning all the progeny of mankind was damned. For what else is the meaning of the dreadful depth of ignorance, from which all error arises, which has taken to its bosom, so to speak, all the sons of Adam in its dark embrace, so that man cannot be freed from that embrace without toil, pain and fear? What is the meaning of the love of so many vain and harmful things, from which come gnawing cares, passions, griefs, fears, mad joys, discords, strifes, wars, plots, wraths, enmities, deceits, flattery, fraud, theft, robbery, perfidy, pride, ambition, envy, murder, parricide, cruelty, ferocity, vileness, riotous living, disorderly conduct, impudence, shamelessness, fornication, adultery, incest and so many outrageous and foul forms of unnatural vice in each sex which it is indecent even to mention, sacrilege, heresies, blasphemies, perjuries, oppressions of the innocent, calumnies, deceptions, duplicities, false witness, unjust verdicts, violence, brigandage and all the other evils which come not to mind, but still do not pass from this life of men? Yes, these are misdeeds of bad men, for they spring from that root of error and perverse love with which every son of Adam is born. Indeed, who does not know with what ignorance of truth, manifest already in infancy, and with what excess of vain desire, which begins to appear in childhood, man comes into this life, so that if he is allowed to live and do as he likes, he falls into all, or many, of these misdeeds and crimes which I have rehearsed, and others which I was unable to rehearse?
[tr. Green (Loeb) (1972)]As for that first origin of mankind, this present life of ours (if a state full of so much grievous misery can be called a life) is evidence that all the mortal descendants of the first man came under condemnation. Such is the clear evidence of that terrifying abyss of ignorance, as it may be called, which is the source of all error, in whose gloomy depths all the sons of Adam are engulfed, so that man cannot be rescued from it without toil, sorrow and fear. What else is the message of all the evils of humanity? The love of futile and harmful satisfactions, with its results: carking anxieties, agitations of mind, disappointments, fears, frenzied joys, quarrels, disputes, wars, treacheries, hatreds, enmities, deceits, flattery, fraud, theft, rapine, perfidy, pride, ambition, envy, murder, parricide, cruelty, savagery, villainy, lust, promiscuity, indecency, unchastity, fornication, adultery, incest, unnatural vice in men and women (disgusting acts too filthy to be named), sacrilege, collusion, false witness, unjust judgement, violence, robbery, and all other such evils which do not immediately come to mind, although they never cease to beset this life of man -- all these evils belong to man in his wickedness, and they all spring from that root of error and perverted affection which every son of Adam brings with him at his birth. For who is not aware of the vast ignorance of the truth (which is abundantly seen in infancy) and the wealth of futile desires (which begins to be obvious in boyhood) which accompanies a man on his entrance into this world, so that if man were left to live as he chose and act as he pleased he would fall into all, or most, of those crimes and sins which I have mentioned -- and others which I was not able to mention.
[tr. Bettenson (1972)]This life itself, if it is to be called a life, attests, by the many great evils with which it is filled, that the whole mortal progeny of the first man stands condemned. What could show this more clearly than that dreadful and profound ignorance from which springs all the error which imprisons the sons of Adam in a dark place from which no man can be delivered without toil, pain and fear? Is this not proved by his love of so many vain and harmful things, from which come gnawing cares, disturbances, griefs, fears, insane joys, discords, litigation, wars, treasons, angers, hatreds, falsehood, flattery, fraud, theft, rapine, perfidy, pride, ambition, envy, homicides, parricides, cruelty, ferocity, wickedness, luxury, insolence, immodesty, unchastity, fornications, adulteries, incests, and so many other impure and unnatural acts of both sexes of which it is shameful even to speak; sacrileges, heresies, blasphemies, perjuries, oppression of the innocent, slanders, plots, prevarications, false witness, unrighteous judgments, acts of violence, robberies, and other such evils which do not immediately come to mind, but which are never far away from men in this life? Truly, these are the crimes of wicked men; yet they come forth from that root of error and perverse love which is born with every son of Adam. For who does not know how great is our ignorance of the truth, manifesting itself even in infancy? Who does not know with what an abundance of vain desires, beginning to appear in boyhood, a man comes into this life? So true is this that, if a man were left to live as he wished and do whatever he liked, he would fall into all, or certainly into many, of those crimes and iniquities which I mentioned and could not mention.
[tr. Dyson (1998)]
There is in the word, in the logos, something sacred which forbids us to gamble with it. To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
[Il y a dans le mot, dans le verbe, quelque chose de sacré qui nous défend d’en faire un jeu de hasard. Manier savamment une langue, c’est pratiquer une espèce de sorcellerie évocatoire.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
L’Art Romantique, ch. 28 “Théophile Gautier,” sec. 3 (1868) [tr. Gilman (1958)]
(Source)
Originally published in L'Artiste (1859-03-13). It appears in Vol. 3, ch. 8 of the 1885 Œuvres complètes de Charles Baudelaire.
(Source (French)). Other translations:There exists in the word, in the verb, something sacred which prohibits us from viewing it as a mere game of chance. To manipulate language with wisdom is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
[tr. Jakobson (1981)]There is in a word, in a verb, something sacred which forbids us from using it recklessly. To handle a language cunningly is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
[E.g.]
I have known nearly all the famous men of our age and I have seen them made wretched by this glorious passion for fame, and die after debauching their moral natures in its service.
[J’ai connu presque tous les hommes célèbres de notre tems, et que je les ai vus malheureux par cette belle passion de célébrité, et mourir, après avoir dégradé par elle leur caractère moral.]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],” “Question” (1795) [tr. Merwin (1969)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Another translation:I have known nearly every famous man in our times, and I have seen them unhappy through this pretty passion for celebrity, and die after having degraded their moral character for it.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
What wouldest thou have me follow? what my enemies think prudent, or what I myself think to be so?
[Que veux-tu que je suive, la prudence de mes ennemis, ou la mienne?]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689–1755) French political philosopher
Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 8, Usbek to Rustan (1721) [tr. Floyd (1762)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:What wouldst thou have me pursue; the Prudence of my Enemies, or my own?
[tr. Ozell (1736)]Which would you have me obey -- the petty maxims that guide my enemies, or the dictates of my own free soul?
[tr. Davidson (1891)]Which would you have me accept as a guide, -- the foresight of my enemies or my own?
[tr.https://archive.org/details/persianletters00degoog/page/n52/mode/2up?q=%22accept+as+a+guide%22">Betts (1897)]Would you have me follow my own counsel or that of my enemies?
[tr. Healy (1964)]Ought I to heed my enemies' prudent counsels or my own?
[tr. Mauldon (2008)]Which would you have me follow, Rustan, my own counsel, or that of my enemies?
[tr. MacKenzie (2014)]
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.John Donne (1572–1631) English poet
Holy Sonnets, No. 10, “Death Be Not Proud,” ll. 13-14 (1609)
(Source)
There is no known correct way to eat pistachio nuts. Nevertheless, they are delicious. The pistachio nut must therefore be Nature’s way of teaching us self-control. If so, it doesn’t work.
Can I forget your many favours? Nay.
Why don’t I mention them? Because you do.
If I begin, some one is sure to say
“Your patron told me all he did for you”;
Friend there are tasks cannot be done by two;
Shall this be yours or mine? for I submit
However great a gift, there nothing due
To any giver who shall boast of it.[Quae mihi praestiteris memini semperque tenebo.
Cur igitur taceo, Postume? Tu loqueris.
Incipio quotiens alicui tua dona referre,
Protinus exclamat ‘Dixerat ipse mihi.’
Non belle quaedam faciunt duo: sufficit unus
Huic operi: si vis, ut loquar, ipse tace.
Crede mihi, quamvis ingentia, Postume, dona
Auctoris pereunt garrulitate sui.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 5, epigram 52 (5.52) (AD 90) [tr. Pott & Wright (1921), “Self-Praise”]
(Source)
"To Postumus." (Source (Latin)). Other translations:Thy gifts to me I thinke of, and still shall.
Why then do I not speake of them at all?
Thou dost. Where ere I tell thy charitie,
Tis answer'd straight, himselfe has told it me.
This work befits not both; one is enough;
If thou wouldst have me speake, be silent thou.
For (trust me) wert thou nere so liberall,
The givers talking would destroy it all.
[tr. May (1629), ep. 53]What thou conferr'st on me I do
Remember, and shall think on, too.
Why therefore do I hold my tongue?
Cause, Posthumus, thou ne'er hast done.
As often as I go to treat
of these thy gifts to them I meet,
'T is presently replied, "Forbear,
He whisper'd it into my ear."
Two men some things cannot do well:
One person may suffice to tell,
and do this work: if it may please
That I shall speak, then hold thy peace.
For prithee, Postumus, believe,
Though that thy gifts are great to give
All thanks must perish, and are lost,
When authors their own actions boast.
[tr. Fletcher (1656)]Your favors to me I remember well;
But do not mention them; because you tell.
Whenever I begin, I'm answer'd strait,
"I heard from his own mouth, what you relate."
Two ill become the business of but one;
Be you but silent, I will speak alone.
Great are your gifts; but when proclaim'd around,
The obligation dies upon the sound.
[tr. Hay (1755), ep. 53]The services you have rendered me I do not forget, and will always keep them in my mind. How happens it, Posthumus, that I am silent? It is because you talk. Do I begin to expatiate on your favours, I am told, "I heard all about it from himself." Some things are not handsomely performed by two; one person is enough to relate kindness; if you wish me to speak, you must remain silent. The merit of gifts, however great they be, is lost by the garrulity of the giver.
[tr. Amos (1858), ch. 3, ep. 78; ep. 53]Your services to me I remember, and shall never forget Why then am I silent about them, Postumus? Because you yourself talk of them. Whenever I begin to speak to any one of your favours, he immediately exclaims, "He has told me of them himself." There are certain things which cannot be well done by two people; one is enough in this case. If you wish me to speak, keep silence yourself. Believe me, Postumus, gifts, however great, are deprived of their value by garrulity on the part of the donor.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]I'm grateful for your favors;
They'll never be forgot.
You wonder why I'm dumb about 'em?
Just because you're not.
Whenever I start telling
Of kindnesses you'd done,
The tale, I find, you'd quite concluded
Long ere I'd begun.
Now two men spoil the business
That one does well alone.
If I 'm desired to open my mouth,
Kindly shut your own.
[tr. Nixon (1911)]Your bounty to me I remember and shall always keep in mind. Why, then, and I silent about it, Postumus? You speak of it. As often as I begin to report to someone your presents, he at once exclaims, "He himself had told me." These are things which two persons do not do nicely: one suffices for this work' if you want me to speak, be you yourself silent. Trust me; gifts, however great, Postumus, lose their value by the chattering of the giver.
[tr. Ker (1919)]Grateful for all your gifts I still shall be;
"Why then be silent?" Well, you speak for me.
If to a friend your kindness I report,
With, "Yes, he told me so" he cuts me short.
Some tasks are not so suitable for two,
So thank you, Postumus, I'll wait for you.
Believe me, gifts, however rich they be,
Lose all their value by loquacity.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #251]I remember all you have done for me and shall ever keep it in mind. Why then do I say nothing about it, Postumus? You talk. Whenever I start to tell somebody of your generosity, he exclaims at once: "He tole me that himself." Some things are not nicely done by two. One is enough for this work. If you want me to talk, you must hold your tongue. Believe me, Postumus, the most magnificent of gifts are nullified by the garrulity of the giver.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]You are my patron, I would give you praise,
But when talk of your virtues I would raise,
I'm told you have already laid them out.
Where I would whisper, you your merits shout.
We must more prudently divide our labor
To have efficient impact on our neighbor.
If I'm to praise you, you must hold your peace,
Or give me from my gratitude release.
Your gifts do not give me the power to do
Promotion constantly undone by you.
You undermine my prized veracity
With puffings of your own loquacity.
[tr. Wills (2007)]I'll always cherish what you’ve done for me.
Why don’t I speak of it? Because you do.
Whenever I tell someone of your bounty,
he cries at once: “He told me of it, too!”
Some things two can’t do well; just one suffices.
You must keep mum, if you want me to gush.
Believe me, Postumus, the greatest gifts
are canceled when the giver just won't hush.
[tr. McLean (2014)]About your gifts I'd love to gush,
Instead, I feel I have to hush.
When I tell people, they don't doubt it:
You've already bragged about it.
Maybe we should coordinate
Who praises your largesse of late.
But gifts do lose their gleam and such
When givers praise themselves too much.
[tr. Hill (2023)]
Old Age is not so fiery as Youth; but when once provoked cannot be appeased.
Thomas Fuller (1654–1734) English physician, preacher, aphorist, writer
Gnomologia: Adages and Proverbs (compiler), # 3704 (1732)
(Source)
In our time we have come to live with moments of great crisis. Our lives have been marked with debate about great issues; issues of war and peace, issues of prosperity and depression. But rarely in any time does an issue lay bare the secret heart of America itself. Rarely are we met with a challenge, not to our growth or abundance, our welfare or our security, but rather to the values and the purposes and the meaning of our beloved Nation.
The issue of equal rights for American Negroes is such an issue. And should we defeat every enemy, should we double our wealth and conquer the stars, and still be unequal to this issue, then we will have failed as a people and as a nation.Lyndon B. Johnson (1908–1973) American politician, educator, US President (1963–69)
Speech (1965-03-15), “The American Promise,” Joint Session of Congress [06:27]
(Source)
A breath of wind — no more — is earthly fame,
And now this way it blows and that way now,
And as it changes quarter, changes name.
[Non è il mondan romore altro ch’un fiato
di vento, ch’or vien quinci e or vien quindi,
e muta nome perché muta lato.]
Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 11, l. 100ff (11.100-102) [Oderisi of Gubbio] (1314) [tr. Sayers (1955)]
(Source)
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:The breath of Fame is but a fickle gale,
Whose veering blasts from every point prevail,
And every change bestows a different name.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 20]The noise
Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind,
That blows from divers points, and shifts its name
Shifting the point it blows from.
[tr. Cary (1814)]The mundane rumour is a fleeting breath
Of wind, that veers and varies in account,
And changes name because it changes point.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath
Of wind, that comes now this way and now that,
And changes name, because it changes side.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]The rumour of the world is naught else than a breath of wind, which now comes hence and now comes thence, and changes name because it changes quarter.
[tr. Butler (1885)]Mundane renown is but a breath forlorn
Of wind that cometh now from here, now there,
Named various from the quarter whence 'tis borne.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]Worldly renown is naught but a breath of wind, which now comes this way and now comes that, and changes name because it changes quarter.
[tr. Norton (1892)]Earthly fame is naught but a breath of wind, which now cometh hence and now thence, and changes name because it changes direction.
[tr. Okey (1901)]The world's noise is but a breath of wind which comes now this way and now that and changes name because it changes quarter.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]Naught but a wind's breath is the world's acclaim,
Which blows now hence, now thence, as it may hap,
And when it changes quarter changes name.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]A breath of wind is all there is to fame
here upon earth: it blows this way and that
and when it changes quarter it changes name.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]Earthly fame is naught but a breath of wind,
which now comes hence and now comes thence,
changing its name because it changes quarter.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]Your earthly fame is but a gust of wind
that blows about, shifting this way and that,
and as it changes quarter, changes name.
[tr. Musa (1981)]Earthly fame is nothing but a breath of wind,
Which first blows one way and then blows another,
And brings a fresh name from each fresh direction.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]Worldly renown is nothing other than
a breath of wind that blows now here, now there,
and changes name when it has changed its course.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]The clamor of the world is nothing but a breath of wind that comes now from here and now from there, and changes names because it changes directions.
[tr. Durling (2003)]Worldly Fame is nothing but a breath of wind, that now blows here, and now there, and changes name as it changes direction.
[tr. Kline (2002)]The roar of earthly fame is just a breath
of wind, blowing from here and then from there,
that changes name in changing origin.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]Worldly fame is nothing but a gust of wind,
first blowing from one quarter, then another,
changing name with every new direction.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]Shouts of worldly fame are nothing more
Than a passing breath of wind, blowing here,
Then there, changing its name from place to place.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with another’s need;
Not what we give, but what we share, —
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, —
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) American diplomat, essayist, poet
“The Vision of Sir Launfal,” Part 2, st. 8 (1848)
(Source)
Christ / the Holy Grail speaking to Sir Launfal. See Matthew 25:31-46.
Some folks pay a compliment like they expected a receipt.
Frank McKinney "Kin" Hubbard (1868–1930) American caricaturist and humorist
“Abe Martin” comic, San Francisco Call (1912-02-07)
(Source)
Through his Abe Martin character, Hubbard used this phrase in a variety of forms, popularizing (though not originating) it. More discussion about this: “Some people pay a compliment as if they expected a receipt” - The Big Apple - Barry Popik.
Let others, then, have their weapons, their horses and their spears, their fencing-foils, and games of ball, their swimming contests and foot-races, and out of many sports leave us old fellows our dice and knuckle-bones. Or take away the dice-box, too, if you will, since old age can be happy without it.
[Sibi habeant igitur arma, sibi equos, sibi hastas, sibi clavam et pilam, sibi natationes atque cursus; nobis senibus ex lusionibus multis talos relinquant et tesseras; id ipsum ut lubebit, quoniam sine eis beata esse senectus potest.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 16 / sec. 58 (16.58) (44 BC) [tr. Falconer (1923)]
(Source)
The actual gaming objects for old folk that Cicero refers to were the talus (a long four-sided die) and the tessera (a six-sided die). Various games were played rolling these, on their own or together.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Yong men have for them for theyr solas & worship, their armours, their horsys, their speris, pollaxis mallys, and Instrumentys of iren, or of leed, and launcegayes for to fyght. And also maryners in vsyng the see and yong men deliten in shippys bargys of dyvers fassions and in rowynges and in sayllyng in watirs and ryvers and in the sees, and som yong men usen the cours of voyages in gooyng rydyng and iourneyeng from one counttre to anothir, and emong many othir labours of playes sportys and of dyvers solacys. The yong men also levyn to the use of olde men the playe at the tablis and chesse and the philosophers playe by nombre of arsmetrike as is made mencion in the boke of O∣vide de vetula callid the reformacion of his life. But we demaunde the Caton, if the olde men may goodly use and when we be olde of thies two said playes of the tablis and chesse, I answere you nay, for withoute thies two playes ol̄de age may wele be stuffid and fulfillyd of alle othir goodnes perteynyng to felicite and to blessidnesse. Now it is so that olde age and yche othir age usyng of discression ought not to doo any thyng, but that it drawe and be longe to vertues and to blessidnesse in stede of playes at tables and at chesses.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]Let us therefore bid adieu to all such youthly pranks and exercises as lusty and green-headed gallants, agitated and pricked with the fervent heat of unadvised adolescence, do enure themselves withal: God speed them well with their usual disports and dalliance; let them take to themselves their armour, weapons, and artillery; let us permit and give them good leave to daunt fierce horses and with spears in rest to mount on courageous coursers; let them handle the pike, toss the javelin and club daily, and play at the tennis, exercise themselves with running, swimming, and such-like deeds of activity and nimbleness. To us old men among all their other games and pastimes, let them leave the tables, the chance-bone or dice, and the chess, which without any danger or sore straining of the body may be practiced. And yet I will not seem to allow these last-named games further than every man himself is disposed, because they be not necessary, and old age may without them be blessed and fortunate.
[tr. Newton (1569)]Therefore young men have their weapons, their horses, their speares, their swimming, the ball, the club, and their races, and they leave to us old men the cards and the tables which we sometimes use when we list; for age may be right happy without them.
[tr. Austin (1648)]Let those of younger Years take to themselves all the Diversions of their several sorts of Gaming, Fencing, Racing, or Bathing can afford them: leave us to our Chesse-boards, and our Tables; and yet we are not solicitous even for those, since the Happiness of old Age does not depend on them.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]Let therefore the young have their Arms, Horse, Spears, Lances, Balls, Baths, and Races; and of their many Diversions, leave to us the Cards and the Tables, to make use of just when we please; for Old Age can be happy without them.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]To others therefore we can freely resign all other Diversions, in Arms and Horses, with their military Exercises, and all their Accoutrements, their Tennis, and every other Sport; only, if they please, they may leave us Checquers and Tables; or even these also we can give up; since Old Age can be very easy and very happy without any such trifling Amusements.
[tr. Logan (1744)]In respect to the peculiar articles of rural diversions, let those of a more firm and vigorous age enjoy the robust sports which are suitable to that season of life; let them exert their manly strength and address in darting the javelin, or contending in the race; in wielding the bat, or throwing the ball; in riding, or in swimming; but let them, out of the abundance of their many other recreations, resign to us old fellows the sedentary games of chance. Yet if they think proper even in these to reserve to themselves an exckisive right, I shall not controvert their claim; they are amusements by no means essential to a philosophic old age.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]Therefore let them keep to themselves their arms, horses, spears, cudgel, ball, swimming, and running; and let them leave to us old men, out of so many sports, our astragals and dice; and that very thing whether it shall be to our mind, since old age can be happy without these things.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]Let the young, therefore, keep to themselves their arms, horses, spears, clubs, tennis-ball, swimmings, and races: to us old men let them leave out of many amusements the tali and tessera; and even in that matter it may be as they please, since old age can be happy without these amusements.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]Let others take for their own delight arms, horses, spears, clubs, balls, swimming-bouts, and foot-races. From their many diversions let them leave for us old men knuckle-bones and dice. Either will serve our turn; but without them old age can hardly be contented.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]Let the young keep their arms then to themselves, their horses, spears, their foils and ball, their swimming baths and running path. To us old men let them, out of the many forms of sport, leave dice and counters; but even that as they choose, since old age can be quite happy without them.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]Let who will keep their arms, their steeds, their spears,
Their club and ball, and let them swim and run,
But let them leave from many forms of sport
The dice to us old men, or take them too
If so they will: old age can do without
These trifles, and enjoy full happiness.
[tr. Allison (1916)]No, let young people keep their equipment, their horses, their spears, their foils, their ball-games, their swimming and running, and out of all their amusements let them leave to us old fellows just the knuckle-bones and dice -- and then only if it strikes their fancy, for old age can be quite happy without them.
[tr. Copley (1967)]You won't find us [old men] in armor or on horseback throwing spears; we don't fence with sticks or play catch; we'll let other people compete with each other in running or swimming races. Maybe we'll gamble a little with dice or knucklebones, or maybe not -- but, in any case, we'll be perfectly content.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]Therefore let others keep their fast cars, speed boats, fitness centers, bats, rackets, and balls, and leave us our checkers and bridge cards. But you know, they can take those too if we have a nice garden.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]Let the young have arm and mount
Let them have ball and stick and pike
Let them swim and scurry too,
To the old are paramount
Only dice games and the like.
Should they deem those games undue
We’ll comply without ado.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]Let others have their weapons, their horses, their spears and fencing foils, their balls, their swimming contests and food traces. Just leave old men like me our dice and knucklebones. Or take away those too if you want. Old age can be happy without them.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]Let others have weapons, horses, spears, fencing-foils, ball games, swimming competitions, races, and leave to the old men dice and knucklebones for games. Or let that go too since old age can be happy without it.
[tr. @sentantiq (2018)]
It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.
To an embalmer there are no good men and bad men. There are only dead men and live men.
H. L. Mencken (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 4, § 15 (1916)
(Source)
Cowardice or Bravery is never racial. You find both in every Country. No country has a monopoly on Bravery; great deeds of heroism is liable to break out in the most unexpected places.
Will Rogers (1879–1935) American humorist
Article (1932-03-12), “Letter of a Self-Made Diplomat to His President,” Saturday Evening Post
Collected in More Letters of a Self-Made Diplomat to His President (1928) [ed. Steven Gragert].
The human comedy can keep amusing you, but only if you keep your distance.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913–1983) American journalist and author
The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 10 (1966)
(Source)
Any bit of nonsense can be computerized — astrology, biorhythms, the I Ching — but that doesn’t make the nonsense any more valid.
John Allen Paulos (b. 1945) American mathematician, academic, writer
Innumeracy, ch. 3 “Pseudoscience” (1988)
(Source)
If people knew the story of their lives how many would then elect to live them?
Cormac McCarthy (1933–2023) American novelist, playwright, screenwriter
The Crossing [Quijada] (1994)
(Source)
Often mis-cited to All the Pretty Horses (1992), the first part of the Border Trilogy (this is the second).
I have never been in any rich man’s house which would not have looked the better for having a bonfire made outside of it of nine-tenths of all that it held.
William Morris (1834–1896) British textile designer, writer, socialist activist
“The Art of the People,” speech, Birmingham Society of Arts (1879-02-19)
(Source)
Cynical is the name we give those we fear may be laughing at us.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
The Hippopotamus, ch. 4, sec. 3 [Ted] (2014)
(Source)
There’s a great deal to be said for nationalism, for keeping diversity — in literature, in art, in language, and in all kinds of cultural things. But when it comes to politics, I think nationalism is an unmitigated evil. I don’t think there’s a single thing to be said in its favor.
Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
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).
Whilst that for which all virtue now is sold,
And almost every vice, almighty gold ….Ben Jonson (1572–1637) English playwright and poet
“Epistle to Elizabeth, Countess of Rutland” (1599)
(Source)
Reprinted in The Forest, Poem 12.
And now I understand
something so frightening, and wonderful —
how the mind clings to the road it knows, rushing
through crossroads, sticking
like lint to the familiar.
Little seedlings never flourish in the soil they have been given, be it ever so excellent, if they are continually pulled up to see if the roots are grateful yet.
Bertha Damon (1881–1975) American humorist, author, lecturer, editor [Bertha Clark Pope Damon]
Grandma Called It Carnal (1938)
The superstition into which we’re born,
Even when we recognize it, loses not
Its power on us! Not all those are free
Who ridicule their chains.[Der Aberglaub’, in dem wir aufgewachsen,
Verliert, auch wenn wir ihn erkennen, darum
Doch seine Macht nicht über uns. — Es sind
Nicht alle frei, die ihrer Ketten spotten.]Gotthold Lessing (1729–1781) German playwright, philosopher, dramaturg, writer
Nathan the Wise [Nathan der Weise], Act 4, sc. 4 [Templar] (1779) [tr. Corbett (1883)]
(Source)
(Source (German)). Other translations:Yet the superstition
in which we have grown up, not therefore loses
when we detect it, all its influence on us.
Not all are free that can bemock their fetters.
[tr. Taylor (1790)]The superstition in which we grew up,
Does not cease influencing us, e'en after
We have discover'd its absurdity.
Not all are free who do bemock their fetters.
[tr. Reich (1860)]The superstition in which we were brought up never loses its power over us, even after we understand it.
[Source (1866)]And yet the superstitions we have learned
From education, do not lose their power
When we have found them out; nor are all free
Whose judgment mocks the galling chains they wear.
[tr. Boylan (1878)]The superstition in which we have grown up
Does not lose (even if we see through it)
Its power on us, on that account;
All are not free who mock their chains.
[tr. Jacks (1894)]The superstitions of our early years,
E'en when we know them to be nothing more,
Lose not for that their hold upon our hearts;
Not all are free who ridicule their chains.
[tr. Maxwell (1917)]The superstition in which we have grown up does not lose its power over us even for the reason that we recognize it as such. Not all are free who mock their chains.
[tr. Reinhardt (1950)]The superstition in which we grew up,
Though we may recognize it, does not lose
Its power over us -- Not all are free
Who make mock of their chains.
[tr. Morgan (1955)]Merely because we see the defects of the superstition we grew up in, it doesn't lose its hold upon our souls! Those men who mock their chains are not all free!
[tr. Ade (1972)]
If it is usual to be strongly impressed with things rare and extraordinary, how comes it then that Virtue is taken so little notice of?
[S’il est ordinaire d’être vivement touché des choses rares, pourquoi le sommes-nous si peu de la vertu?]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645–1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 2 “Of Personal Merit [Du Mérite Personnel],” § 20 (2.20) (1688) [Browne ed. (1752)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:If 'tis common to be Toucht with things Rare, how comes it that we are so little toucht with Virtue?
[Bullord ed. (1696)]If 'tis common to be touch'd with things rare, how comes it we are so little touch'd with Virtue?
[Curll ed. (1713)]If it be usual to be strongly impressed by things that are scarce, why are we so little impressed by virtue?
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]If it is usual to be strongly attracted by things that are rare, why has virtue so little attraction for us?
[tr. Stewart (1970)]
If you are foolish enough to be contented, don’t show it, but grumble with the rest; and if you can do with a little, ask for a great deal. Because if you don’t you won’t get any.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859–1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Getting On in the World” (1886)
(Source)
First published in Home Chimes (1885-01-24).
CONVERSATION, n. A fair for the display of the minor mental commodities, each exhibitor being too intent upon the arrangement of his own wares to observe those of his neighbor.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Conversation,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1881-08-26).
It is not worth living,
when we see bad men unjustly honored.
[ου γαρ άξιον λεύσσειν φάος κακούς ορώντας εκδίκως τιμωμένους.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 293 (c. 430 BC) [tr. Collard (1997)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 293, Barnes frag. 129, Musgrave frag. 23. (Source (Greek)). Other translations:For life's not worth retaining when we see
The wicked crown'd with undeserv'd applause.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]It is not worth living, if people see bad men unjustly honored.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Life has no value when the bad are seen to thrive unjustly.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
The only way to forget time is to make use of it.
[On ne peut oublier le temps qu’en s’en servant.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Journaux Intimes [Intimate Journals], “Mon cœur mis à nu [My Heart Laid Bare],” § 111 (1864–1867; pub. 1887) [tr. Sieburth (2022)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:One can only forget Time by making use of it.
[tr. Isherwood (1930)]One can only forget about time by making use of it.
[Common, e.g.]
LEAR: I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? —
Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No.
The wren goes to ‘t, and the small gilded fly does
lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive ….William Shakespeare (1564–1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 4, sc. 6, l. 129ff (4.6.129-132) (1606)
(Source)
Any man with few needs appears a menace to the rich for he is always in a position to escape from them, and the tyrants see that thus they lose a slave.
[Tout homme qui a peu de besoins semble menacer les riches d’être toujours prêt à leur échapper. Les tyrans voient par là qu’ils perdent un esclave.]
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, ¶ 266 (1795) [tr. Mathers (1926)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Any man whose needs are few seems to threaten the rich with the possibility of his escaping them. Tyrants are thereby faced with the prospect of losing a slave.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]Any man who has few needs seems to threaten the rich with his readiness to escape from them. Thereby tyrants realize that they are losing a slave.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]Every man who has few needs seems to menace the wealthy with the constant threat of escaping from them. Tyrants see in such a proposition the loss of a slave.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]Anyone whose needs are small seems threatening to the rich, because he's always ready to escape their control. This is how tyrants recognize that they're losing a slave.
[tr. Parmée (2003)]
People who put slipcovers, doilies, plastic protectors, and cellophane on everything good that they own rarely live to see an occasion so good that all these covers are removed.
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners]
Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, Part 1 “Introduction,” “Some Thoughts on the Impulse Rude” (1983)
(Source)
Lucky yet sad? My friend, should Fortune find
You lacking gratitude, she’ll change her mind.[Tristis es et felix. Sciat hoc Fortuna caveto:
Ingratum dicet te, Lupe, si scierit.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 6, epigram 79 (6.79) (AD 91) [tr. B. Hill (1972)]
(Source)
"To Lupus." (Source (Latin)). Other translations:Th' art rich & sad; take heed lest fortune know;
She 'll call th' unthankefull, Lupus, if she do.
[tr. May (1629)]How? sad and rich? Beware lest Fortune catch
Thee, Lupus, then she'll call thee thankless wretch.
[tr. Fletcher (1656)]Th'art rich and sad; take heed lest Fortune see,
And, as ungrateful, do proceed with thee.
[tr. Killigrew (1695)]What! sad and successfull! let Fortune not know.
Ingrate! would she brand thee, did she see thee so.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 12, ep. 88]You are sad in the midst of every blessing. Take care that Fortune does not observe, or she will call you ungrateful.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]You are sad, although fortunate. Take care Fortune does not know this; "Ingrate" will be her name for you, Lupus, if she knows.
[tr. Ker (1919)]In spite of your luck you seem gloomy of late:
Take care, or Dame Fortune will dub you 'Ingrate.'
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]You are sad and lucky. Mind you don't let Fortune know. She will call you ungrateful, Lupus, if she gets to know.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]Lupus, you're sad, though lucky. Don't disclose it.
Fortune will call you thankless if she knows it.
[tr. McLean (2014)]You've got it all, Lupus, but you're glum, moping, dour.
Do you want Fortune to think you're ungrateful to her?
[tr. D. Hill (2023)]
At times history and fate meet at a single time in a single place to shape a turning point in man’s unending search for freedom. So it was at Lexington and Concord. So it was a century ago at Appomattox. So it was last week in Selma, Alabama.
There, long-suffering men and women peacefully protested the denial of their rights as Americans. Many were brutally assaulted. One good man, a man of God, was killed.
There is no cause for pride in what has happened in Selma. There is no cause for self-satisfaction in the long denial of equal rights of millions of Americans. But there is cause for hope and for faith in our democracy in what is happening here tonight.
For the cries of pain and the hymns and protests of oppressed people have summoned into convocation all the majesty of this great Government — the Government of the greatest Nation on earth.Lyndon B. Johnson (1908–1973) American politician, educator, US President (1963–69)
Speech (1965-03-15), “The American Promise,” Joint Session of Congress [04:25]
(Source)
A nationally broadcast address, introducing the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The mention of Selma is in reference to the events of "Bloody Sunday" on 7 March 1965.
Our Father in Heaven, not by Heaven bounded
but there indwelling for the greater love Thou
bear’st Thy first works in the realm first-founded,
hallowed be Thy name, hallowed Thy Power
by every creature as its nature grants it
to praise Thy quickening breath in its brief hour.
Let come to us the sweet peace of Thy reign,
for if it come not we cannot ourselves
attain to it however much we strain.
And as Thine Angels kneeling at the throne
offer their wills to Thee, singing Hosannah,
so teach all men to offer up their own.
Give us this day Thy manna, Lord we pray,
for if he have it not, though man most strive
through these harsh wastes, his speed is his delay.
As we forgive our trespassers the ill
we have endured, do Thou forgive, not weighing
our merits, but the mercy of Thy will.
Our strength is as a reed bent to the ground:
do not Thou test us with the Adversary,
but deliver us from him who sets us round.
This last petition. Lord, with grateful mind,
we pray not for ourselves who have no need,
but for the souls of those we left behind.[O Padre nostro, che ne’ cieli stai,
non circunscritto, ma per più amore
ch’ai primi effetti di là sù tu hai,
laudato sia ’l tuo nome e ’l tuo valore
da ogne creatura, com’è degno
di render grazie al tuo dolce vapore.
Vegna ver’ noi la pace del tuo regno,
ché noi ad essa non potem da noi,
s’ella non vien, con tutto nostro ingegno.
Come del suo voler li angeli tuoi
fan sacrificio a te, cantando osanna,
così facciano li uomini de’ suoi.
Dà oggi a noi la cotidiana manna,
sanza la qual per questo aspro diserto
a retro va chi più di gir s’affanna.
E come noi lo mal ch’avem sofferto
perdoniamo a ciascuno, e tu perdona
benigno, e non guardar lo nostro merto.
Nostra virtù che di legger s’adona,
non spermentar con l’antico avversaro,
ma libera da lui che sì la sprona.
Quest’ultima preghiera, segnor caro,
già non si fa per noi, ché non bisogna,
ma per color che dietro a noi restaro.]Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 11, l. 1ff (11.1-24) (1314) [tr. Ciardi (1961)]
(Source)
A paraphrase of the Christian Paternoster (the Lord's Prayer or "Our Father," from Matt. 6.9-13) prayer, recited by the Proud in Purgatory as both a "first children's prayer" and an act of humility. While it may seem blasphemous for Dante to modify a Biblical prayer in this way, St. Augustine wrote that the Lord's Prayer could be personalized, so long as its main petitions remained intact.
Given the length of the passage, I've reduced the number of parallel translations shown.
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:Great Father! whom the Universe obeys!
Who, by thy boundless Love's transcendent rays.
In purest light, the brightest virtue flows:
Let all the orders of creation join
In one deep plaudit to that love divine.
Which thro' the countless tribes of being glows.
Let thy celestial Grace, with heav'nly plume,
Descend, where, plung'd in this terrestrial gloom,
We ply our powers in vain, to seize the boon;
And as the Powers above, that own thy sway,
With joy the dictates of thy will obey.
So may th' example spread beneath the Moon.
May thy unsparing hand, with daily food,
Supply our frailty; else, by Time subdu'd,
Our steps must falter in this vale of woe;
As other's faults we pass, do thou forgive! --
Let not our deep defects our souls deprive
Of thy supernal favours, bounteous flow!
With thy protecting hand, O Saviour! shield
Our stagg'ring virtue, in the dangerous field!
And keep at bay the sin-provoking Foe.
We pray not for ourselves, but those behind.
That, breathing still, their painful journey wind
Thro' the sublunar vale of crimes and woe.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-4]Our Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens,
Not circumscribed, but from the greater love
Thou bearest to the first effects on high,
Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence
By every creature, as befitting is
To render thanks to thy sweet effluence.
Come unto us the peace of thy dominion,
For unto it we cannot of ourselves,
If it come not, with all our intellect.
Even as thine own Angels of their will
Make sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing,
So may all men make sacrifice of theirs.
Give unto us this day our daily manna,
Withouten which in this rough wilderness
Backward goes he who toils most to advance.
And even as we the trespass we have suffered
Pardon in one another, pardon thou
Benignly, and regard not our desert.
Our virtue, which is easily o'ercome,
Put not to proof with the old Adversary,
But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver.
This last petition verily, dear Lord,
Not for ourselves is made, who need it not,
But for their sake who have remained behind us.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]Our Father, who in the heavens abidest, not as circumscribed, but through the greater love which Thou hast to Thy first effects on high, praised be Thy name and Thy worth by every creature, as it is meet to render thanks to Thy sweet Spirit. Let the peace of Thy kingdom come to us, for we towards it can naught of ourselves, if it comes not, with all our wit As of their will Thy angels make sacrifice to Thee, chanting Hosanna, so may men do of theirs. Give this day to us the daily manna, without which through this rough desert backward he goes who most toils to go forward. And as we forgive to each man the evil which we have suffered, do Thou also graciously forgive, and not regard our merit. Our strength, which easily surrenders, put not Thou to proof with the old adversary, but deliver it from him, who so urges it This last prayer, dear Lord, no longer is made for us, for it needs not, but for those who have remained behind us.
[tr. Butler (1885)]Our Father who dost dwell in Heaven above,
Not circumscribed, but that Thou there dost place
Upon Thy primal effluence, higher love,
For ever hallowed be Thy Name and grace,
By each created thing, as is most right
In rendering thanks Thy savour to embrace.
The peace of Thy own kingdom on us light,
Which of ourselves we never could attain.
Unless it come through striving with all might.
As, by their own desire, Thy angels fain
Singing Hosanna, sacrifice to Thee,
So may Thy will be done on earth by man.
Provide us with our daily manna free,
Without the which, this desert road along.
He would go back, who striveth most to flee.
And as we pardon unto each the wrong
Which we have suffered, be our pardoner,
Nor weigh the merits which to us belong.
Our virtue, which so easily doth err,
Do not thou test it with the ancient foe,
Deliver us from him that so doth spur.
This last petition, O dear Lord, we owe
Not for ourselves, for whom is no more need,
Rather for those we've left behind below.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]O our Father, who art in heaven above,
Not as being circumscribed, but because toward
Thy first creation thou hast greater love,
Hallowed thy name be and thy power adored
By every creature, as is meet and right
To give thanks for the sweetness from thee poured;
May upon us thy kingdom's peace alight.
For to it of ourselves we cannot rise,
Unless it come itself, with all our wit.
As of their will thine angels' companies
Make sacrifice, as they Hosanna sing,
So may men make of their will sacrifice.
To us this day our daily manna bring:
Else through this desert harsh must he revert
His steps, who most to advance is labouring.
And as we pardon every one the hurt
That we have suffered, do thou pardon too,
Begninant, nor remember our desert.
Try not our will, so easy to subdue,
With the old adversary, and by thine aid
Save us from him who goads it, to our rue.
This last prayer, dear Lord, is for us not made
Any more, since remaineth now no need,
But 'tis for those who have behind us stayed.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]Our Father, dwelling in the Heavens, nowise
As circumscribed, but as the things above,
Thy first effects, are dearest in Thine eyes.
Hallowed Thy name be and the Power thereof,
By every creature, as right meet it is
We praise the tender effluence of Thy Love.
Let come to us, let come Thy Kingdom's peace;
If it come not, we've no power of our own
To come to it, for all our subtleties.
Like as with glad Hosannas as Thy throne
Thine angels offer up their wills away,
So let men offer theirs, that Thine be done.
Our daily manna give to us this day,
Without which he that through this desert wild
Toils most to speed goes backward on his way.
As we, with all our debtors reconciled,
Forgive, do Thou forgive us, nor regard
Our merits, but upon our sins look mild.
Put not our strength, too easily ensnared
And overcome, to proof with the old foe;
But save us from him, for he tries it hard.
This last prayer is not made for us -- we know,
Dear Lord, that it is needless -- but for those
Who still remain behind us we pray so.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]Our Father Who in Heaven dost abide,
not there constrained but dwelling there because
Thou lovest more Thy lofty first effects,
hallowed by Thy name, hallowed Thy Power,
by Thy creatures as it behooves us all
to render thanks for Thy sweet effluence.
Thy kingdom come to us with all its peace;
if it come not, we of ourselves cannot
attain to it, no matter how we strive.
And as Thine angels offer up their wills
to Thee in sacrifice, singing Hosannah,
let all men offer up to Thee their own.
Give us this day our daily manna, Lord:
without it, those most eager to advance
go backwards through this wild wasteland of ours.
As we forgive our trespassers, do Thou,
forgive our trespasses, merciful Lord,
look not upon our undeserving worth.
Our strength is only weakness, lead us not
into temptation by our ancient foe,
deliver us from him who urges evil.
This last request, beloved Lord, we make
not for ourselves, who know we have no need,
but for those souls who still remain behind.
[tr. Musa (1981)]Our father, which art in heaven,
Not because circumscribed, but out of the greater love
You have for your first creation on high,
Praise be to your name and worthiness
From every creature, as it is appropriate
To render thanks to your sweet charity.
Thy kingdom come, and the peace of thy kingdom,
Because we cannot attain it of ourselves,
If it does not come, for all our ingenuity.
As of their own freewill your angels
Make sacrifice to you, singing Hosanna,
So may men also do of their freewill.
Give us this day our daily manna,
Without which, through the roughness of this desert,
He who tries hardest to advance, goes backward.
And as we forgive everyone the evil
That we have suffered, may you pardon us
Graciously, and have no regard to our merits.
Do not put our virtue to the test
With the old adversary, it is easily overcome,
But free us from him who spurs us on.
This last prayer, dear Lord, we no longer
Make for ourselves, having no need of it,
But for those who are left behind us.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]Our Father, You who dwell within the heavens --
but are not circumscribed by them -- out of
Your greater love for Your first works above,
praised be Your name and Your omnipotence,
by every creature, just as it is seemly
to offer thanks to Your sweet effluence.
Your kingdom’s peace come unto us, for if
it does not come, then though we summon all
our force, we cannot reach it of our selves.
Just as Your angels, as they sing Hosanna,
offer their wills to You as sacrifice,
so may men offer up their wills to You.
Give unto us this day the daily manna
without which he who labors most to move
ahead through this harsh wilderness falls back.
Even as we forgive all who have done
us injury, may You, benevolent,
forgive, and do not judge us by our worth.
Try not our strength, so easily subdued,
against the ancient foe, but set it free
from him who goads it to perversity.
This last request we now address to You,
dear Lord, not for ourselves -- who have no need --
but for the ones whom we have left behind.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]O our Father who are in the heavens, not circumscribed, but because of the greater love you bear those first effects up there,
praised be your Name and your Power by every creature, for it is fitting to give thanks to your sweet Spirit.
Let the peace of your kingdom come to us, for we cannot attain to it by ourselves, if it does not come, with all our wit.
As the angels sacrifice their wills to you, singing Hosanna, so let men do with theirs.
Give us this day our daily manna, without which in this harsh wilderness he goes backwards who most strives forward.
And as we forgive all others for the evil we have suffered, do you forgive us lovingly, and do not regard our merit.
Our strength, which is easily subdued, do not tempt with the ancient adversary, but free it from him who spurs it so.
This last prayer, dear Lord, we do not make for ourselves, since there is no need, but for those who have stayed behind.
[tr. Durling (2003)]O our Father, who are in Heaven, not because of your limitation, but because of the greater love you have for your first sublime works, praised be your name and worth by every creature, as it is fitting to give thanks for your sweet outpourings. May the peace of your kingdom come to us, since we cannot reach it by ourselves, despite all our intellect, if it does not come to us itself. As Angels sacrifice their will to yours, singing Hosanna: so may men sacrifice theirs. Give us this day our daily bread, without which he who labours to advance, goes backward, through this harsh desert. And forgive in loving-kindness, as we forgive everyone, the evil we have suffered, and judge us not by what we deserve. Do not test our virtue, that is easily conquered, against the ancient enemy, but deliver us from him who tempts it. And this last prayer, dear Lord, is not made on our behalf, since we do not need it, but for those we have left behind.
[tr. Kline (2002)]O our Father, whose place is high in Heaven
Not fixed or held in the sky, but there ascending
Because of Your love for the first of Your creations,
May Your name be praised by every living
Creature, and also Your virtues, for You deserve
Such gratitude for all the emanations
You send us. May your kingdom's peace come down
To us, who are not strong enough by ourselves,
And can not take it, no matter how we strive.
Just as Your angels sacrifice their wills
To You, singing Hosannah, men as well
Should bend their wills to Yours, and sing Hosannah.
Give us, this day, our daily grace, without which
Men go backwards, here in this bitter desert,
Forced to go back, although they struggle for more.
And just as we forgive to all men the wrongs
We have endured, may You in loving kindness
Pardon us, in spite of all our sins.
Our powers are weak, and easily overcome:
Do not oblige us to fight our ancient foe,
But free us from him, who tries to woo us with evil.
And this last prayer, dear Lord, we do not make
For ourselves, who are not in need, but for the sake
Of those behind us, as we rise to Your face.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
For it’s the will
And not the gift that makes the giver.[Denn der Wille
und nicht die Gabe macht den Geber.]Gotthold Lessing (1729–1781) German playwright, philosopher, dramaturg, writer
Nathan the Wise [Nathan der Weise], Act 1, sc. 5 [Lay Brother/Friar] (1779) [tr. Morgan (1955)]
(Source)
(Source (German)). Other translations:The will, and not the deed, makes up the giver.
[tr. Taylor (1790)]'Tis
The will, and not the boon, that makes the giver.
[tr. Reich (1860)]For the will it is
That makes the giver -- not the gift.
[tr. Jacks (1867)]For the will and not the gift makes the giver.
[Source (1873)]The will and not the deed perfects the giver.
[tr. Boylan (1878)]For 'tis the will, and not the gift,
That makes the giver.
[tr. Corbett (1883)]The will and not the gift
Doth constitute the giver.
[tr. Maxwell (1917)]Because the intention and not the gift make the giver.
[tr. Reinhardt (1950)]It's not the gift that makes the giver, no, but rather his good will.
[tr. Ade (1972)]
There is of course a clash between ‘literary’ technique, and the fascination of elaborating in detail an imaginary mythical Age (mythical, not allegorical: my mind does not work allegorically). As a story, I think it is good that there should be a lot of things unexplained (especially if an explanation actually exists); and I have perhaps from this point of view erred in trying to explain too much, and give too much past history. Many readers have, for instance, rather stuck at the Council of Elrond. And even in a mythical Age there must be some enigmas, as there always are. Tom Bombadil is one (intentionally).
J.R.R. Tolkien (1892–1973) English writer, fabulist, philologist, academic [John Ronald Reuel Tolkien]
Letter to Naomi Mitchison (1954-04-25)
(Source)
Letter 144 in Humphrey Carpenter, ed., The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (1981).
An evil doom of some god was my undoing, and measureless wine.
[ἆσέ με δαίμονος αἶσα κακὴ καὶ ἀθέσφατος οἶνος.]
Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Odyssey [Ὀδύσσεια], Book 11, l. 61 (11.61) [Elpenor] (c. 700 BC) [tr. Murray (1919)]
(Source)
Odysseus first encounter in the Underworld is the shade of his comrade Elpenor, whose body had been left on Circe's island. This is Elpenor's explanation of his death (10.552-560). Drunk with his crew mates, he climbed a ladder to the roof of Circe's palace to sleep it off. When he heard his friends preparing to leave, he either fell from or forgot about using the ladder, plummeting to his ignominious death.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:In Circe’s house, the spite some spirit did bear,
And the unspeakable good liquor there,
Hath been my bane.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]I had come along with th’ bark,
But that the Devil and excess of wine
Made me to fall, and break my neck i’ th’ dark.
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 54ff]To hell my doom I owe,
Demons accursed, dire ministers of woe!
My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight,
Betray'd me tumbling from a towery height.
[tr. Pope (1725)]Fool’d by some dæmon and the intemp’rate bowl.
[tr. Cowper (1792), ll. 69-70]I died
By stroke of fate and the dread fumes of wine.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 9]Ill fate destroyed me, and unstinted wine!
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]An evil doom of some god was my bane, and wine out of measure.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]God's doom and wine unstinted on me the bane hath brought.
[tr. Morris (1887)]Heaven's cruel doom destroyed me, and excess of wine.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]It was all bad luck, and my own unspeakable drunkenness.
[tr. Butler (1898)]It was all bad luck of a daimôn, and my own unspeakable drunkenness.
[tr. Butler (1898), rev. Power/Nagy (1900)]It was all bad luck of a superhuman force [daimōn], and my own unspeakable drunkenness.
[tr. Butler (1898), rev. Kim/McCray/Nagy/Power (2018)]The harsh burden of some God sealed my doom, together with my own unspeakable excess in wine.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]It was the malice of some evil power that was my undoing, and all the wine I swilled before I went to sleep in Circe’s palace.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]Bad luck shadowed me, and no kindly power;
ignoble death I drank with so much wine.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]The evil will of the spirit and the wild wine bewildered me.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]My undoing lay
in some god sending down my dismal fate
and in too much sweet wine.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]The doom of an angry god, and god knows how much wine --
they were my ruin, captain.
[tr. Fagles (1996)]Bad luck and too much wine undid me.
[tr. Lombardo (2000)]The malicious decree of some god and too much wine were my undoing.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]It was a god-sent evil destiny that ruined me, and too much wine.
[tr. Verity (2016)]But I had bad luck from some god, and too much wine befuddled me.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]Some god's ill-will undid me -- that, and too much wine!
[tr. Green (2018)]Some fatal deity
has brought me down -- that and too much wine.
[tr. Johnston (2019)]
Liberty trains for liberty. Responsibility is the first step in responsibility.
W. E. B. Du Bois (1868–1963) American writer, historian, social reformer [William Edward Burghardt Du Bois]
John Brown, ch. 13 “The Legacy of John Brown” (1909)
(Source)
On the policy among white colonial powers that non-whites "ought to be under the restraint and benevolent tutelage of stronger and wiser nations for their own benefit," until they are "capable" of being free.
We are firm believers in the maxim that for all right judgment of any man or thing it is useful, nay, essential, to see his good qualities before pronouncing on his bad.
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).
Nothing is so silly as the expression of a man who is being complimented.
André Gide (1869–1951) French author, Nobel laureate
Journal (1906-02-13) [tr. O’Brien (1947)]
(Source)
But why speak of others? Let me now return to myself.
[Sed quid ego alios? Ad me ipsum iam revertar.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 13 / sec. 45 (13.45) (44 BC) [tr. Falconer (1923)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:But it is not nede also to remembre in what thynges the othir olde men tokyn their honeste delectacyons. Therfor I shall come ayen to speke of myself.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]But wherefore speak I so much of others? I will now returne to my selfe.
[tr. Austin (1648)]But what have I to do with others, let me return now to myself.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]But why should I quote others, and not rather return and speak of myself?
[tr. Logan (1744)]But to pass from the practice of others to my own ....
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]But why do I mention others? I will now return to myself.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]But why do I refer to others? let me now return to myself.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]But why am I talking about others? I now return to my own case.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]But why mention others? I will come back to my own case.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]Why speak of these?
Let's take myself.
[tr. Allison (1916)]But enough of others -- let me return to myself!
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]But why speak of other men? Let me revert to my own case.
[tr. Copley (1967)]Enough of other people. Let me speak now of my own experience.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]But again I don't have to talk about the world famous. I can provide personal examples.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]I’ll now revert only to myself,
And put all the others on the shelf.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
No one is exempt from talking nonsense. The great misfortune is to do it solemnly.
Anthony de Mello (1931–1987) Indian psychotherapist, writer, Jesuit priest
One Minute Nonsense, Introduction [The Master] (1992)
(Source)
All my life through, the new sights of Nature made me rejoice like a child.
Marie Curie (1867–1934) Polish-French physicist and chemist [b. Maria Salomea Skłodowska]
Pierre Curie, “Autobiographical Notes: Marie Curie,” ch. 1 (1923) [tr. Kellogg/Kellogg]
(Source)
The question is then how can we decide what anybody in the ancient world said. We can’t. We wish we could. It would be nice if we could. You would like to think that because you can go to the store and buy an edition of Plato that you are actually reading Plato, but the problem is that we just do not have the kind of evidence that we need in order to establish what ancient authors actually wrote. In some cases, we have all these data, and sometimes we have just one manuscript. Sometimes we have a manuscript that was written two-thousand years later, and that’s it! So, as much as we would like to be able to say we know what ancient authors actually wrote, we often just do not know.
Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) American Biblical scholar, author
“The Textual Reliability of the New Testament: A Dialogue between Bart Ehrman and Daniel Wallace,” Greer-Heard Point-Counterpoint Forum in Faith and Culture (2008-04-04/05)
(Source)
Reprinted in Robert Stewart, ed., The Reliability of the New Testament (2011).
It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.
Anaïs Nin (1903–1977) Catalan-Cuban-French author, diarist
The Novel of the Future, ch. 2 “Abstraction” (1968)
(Source)
“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
“Books — oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”
“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”Jane Austen (1775–1817) English author
Pride and Prejudice, ch. 18 [Darcy and Elizabeth] (1813)
(Source)
If all public questions were settled by shooting dice, fifty percent of them would be settled correctly. This would be five times as good a score as we make now.
H. L. Mencken (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 3, § 19 (1916)
(Source)
This thing of being a hero, about the main thing to it is to know when to die. Prolonged life has ruined more men that it ever made.
I have an understanding with my husband: on any day when I haven’t done any writing, I must play him three games of chess. The trouble is, if I have been working, I enjoy the chess; if not, all I want to play is Russian roulette.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913–1983) American journalist and author
The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 10 (1966)
(Source)
Beauty is the purgation of superfluities.
Michelangelo (1475–1564) Italian artist, architect, poet [Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni]
(Attributed)
This phrase is widely attributed to Michelangelo and, often noted as being from a letter to Rene Lui Descartes XIV (1540-03-06). But a search of several books of Michelangelo's letters finds no such letter with parts of that name or with that text.
The letter is almost always noted as being quoted in George Augustus Lofton, Character Sketches (1890). But the reference there merely gives the words of the quote; it says nothing about a letter, let alone a date or to whom it is sent.
The phrase, when rendered into Italian (la bellezza è la purificazione del superfluo or la bellezza è l'eliminazione del superfluo) can be found attributed to Michelangelo, but without citation.
That said, the phrase lines up with many other quotes attributed to Michelangelo, to the effect that statues consist of a figure "trapped" in marble (or whatever the medium), to be revealed by removing just enough stone but no more. E.g.,Each block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the sculptor's job to discover it.
[Ogni blocco di pietra ha una statua dentro di sé ed è compito dello scultore scoprirla.]
(Source)Nothing the best of artists can conceive
but lies, potential, in a block of stone,
superfluous matter round it. The hand alone
can free it that has intelligence for guide.
[Non ha l’ottimo artista alcun concetto
ch’un marmo solo in sé non circonscriva
col suo superchio, e solo a quello arriva
la man che ubbidisce all’intelletto.]
(Poem, tr. Nims (1998))
A plain appearance is to ordinary men their proper garb: it suits them and fits them, but it adorns those persons whose lives have been distinguished by grand deeds; I compare them to a beauty who is most charming in négligé.
[Un extérieur simple est l’habit des hommes vulgaires, il est taillé pour eux et sur leur mesure; mais c’est une parure pour ceux qui ont rempli leur vie de grandes actions: je les compare à une beauté négligée, mais plus piquante.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645–1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 2 “Of Personal Merit [Du Mérite Personnel],” § 17 (2.17) (1688) [tr. Van Laun (1885)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:That Simplicity of outward Appearance, which in vulgar Men seems to be their proper Clothes, shap'd and fitted to their Size, is the ornamental Habit of those Persons whose Lives have been full of great Actions. I compare 'em to a Beauty, that is more charming for being negligent.
[Curll ed. (1713)]A plain Exterior is to ordinary Men their proper Garb, shaped and fitted to their Size, but is an ornamental Habit in those Persons whose Lives have been distinguished by signal Actions. I compare them to a Beauty, most charming when à la negligé.
[Browne ed. (1752)]Outward simplicity befits ordinary men, like a garment made to measure for them; but it serves as an adornment to those who have filled their lives with great deeds: they might be compared to some beauty carelessly dressed and thereby all the more attractive.
[tr. Stewart (1970)]
Happy the man, of mortals happiest he,
Whose quiet mind from vain desires is free;
Whom neither hopes deceive, nor fears torment,
But lives at peace, within himself content;
In thought, or act, accountable to none
But to himself, and to the gods alone.George Granville (1666–1735) English politician, poet, playwright [1st Baron Lansdowne]
“Epistle to Mrs. Higgons,” l. 79ff (1690)
(Source)
BLANK-VERSE, n. Unrhymed iambic pentameters — the most difficult kind of English verse to write acceptably; a kind, therefore, much affected by those who cannot acceptably write any kind.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Blank-verse,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1881-05-14). In that version, it included the final sentence:Of all English and American poets not a half-dozen have been able to write good blank-verse; and the six hundred Californian poets are not among them.
If the gods do a shameful thing, they are not gods.
[εἰ θεοί τι δρῶσιν αἰσχρόν, οὐκ εἰσὶν θεοί.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 292, l. 7 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2014)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 112, Musgrave frag. 19. (Source (Greek)). Other translations:But to thee
This I maintain, that if the Gods commit
Aught that is base, they are no longer Gods.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]If gods do anything shameful, they are not gods.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]If gods do what is shameful, they are not gods.
[tr. Stevens (2012), frag. 286b]If the gods do anything base, they are not gods.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]
For rigorous teachers seized my youth,
And purged its faith, and trimm’d its fire,
Show’d me the high white star of Truth,
There bade me gaze, and there aspire;
Even now their whispers pierce the gloom:
What doest thou in this living tomb?Matthew Arnold (1822–1888) English poet and critic
“Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse,” st. 12, Fraser’s Magazine (1855-04)
(Source)
On his tour of a seventeenth-century monastery in Grenoble, in the French Alps, the headquarters of the Carthusian order of Catholic monks .
Love is the abridgment of all theology.
François de Sales (1567–1622) French bishop, saint, writer [a.k.a. Francis de Sales, b. François de Boisy]
Treatise on the Love of God, Book 9, ch. 1 [tr. Mackey (1884)]
(Source)
The enemy for the fanatic is pleasure, which makes it extremely important to continue to indulge in pleasure. Dance madly. That is how you get rid of terrorism.
Salman Rushdie (b. 1947) Indian novelist
“Public Event, Private Lives,” speech, University of Colorado, Boulder (2013-04-17)
(Source)
It’s through universal Misunderstanding that everybody comes to agreement.
If, by some misfortune, everybody understood each other, one could never come to agree.
[C’est par le malentendu universel que tout le monde s’accorde.
Car si, par malheur, on se comprenait, on ne pourrait jamais s’accorder.]Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Journaux Intimes [Intimate Journals], “Mon cœur mis à nu [My Heart Laid Bare],” § 99 (1864–1867; pub. 1887) [tr. Sieburth (2022)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree.
For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
[tr. Isherwood (1930)]It is by universal misunderstanding that we agree with each other.
If, by some misfortune, we understood each other, we would never agree.
[Source]
As long as I was in Washington I never met anybody that I thought was good enough, who knew enough, or who loved enough to make sexual decisions for anybody else.
Joycelyn Elders (b. 1933) American pediatrician, public health administrator, academic
Penn & Teller: Bullshit!, s. 4, ep. 6 “Abstinence” (2006-06-05)
(Source)
The nobility, say nobles, serves as intermediary between king and people. True, just as the hound serves as intermediary between hunter and hares.
[«La noblesse, disent les nobles, est une intermédiaire entre le roi et le peuple…» Oui, comme le chien de chasse est un intermédiaire entre le chasseur et les lièvres.]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. 8, ¶ 511 (1795) [tr. Dusinberre (1992)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:The nobility, say the nobles, is an intermediary between the king and the people.... Precisely; just as the hound is the intermediary between the huntsman and the hares.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902)]The Nobility, its members say, is an intermediary between the King and the People. .... Exactly, just as hounds are intermediary between men and hares.
[tr. Mathers (1926), ¶ 512]“The nobility,” say the nobles, “is an intermediary between the king and the people . . .” No doubt: just as the hunting dog is an intermediary between the hunter and the hares.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]"The nobility," say the nobles, "is a go-between twixt the king and the people ..." Yes, just as the hunting dog is the go-between twixt the huntsman and the hares.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]"The nobility", say the nobles, "is an intermediary between the king and the people ..." Yes, like a hunting dog is an intermediary between a hunter and hares.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994), ¶ 511]"We're the intermediary between the king and his subjects," claim the nobility. Yes indeed -- and the hound is the intermediary between the hunter and the hare.
[tr. Parmée (2003), ¶ 269]
Books are like imprisoned souls until someone takes them down from a shelf and frees them.
Samuel Butler (1835–1902) English novelist, satirist, scholar
The Note-Books of Samuel Butler, ch. 7 “On the Making of Music, Pictures and Books,” “Thought and Word,” sec. 9 (1912)
(Source)
To live with fear and not be afraid is the final test of maturity.
Edward Weeks (1898–1989) American writer, essayist, editor
“A Quarter Century: Its Retreats,” Look magazine (1961-07-18)
The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me. Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) American essayist, lecturer, poet
“Gifts,” Essays: Second Series, No. 5 (1844).
(Source)
Thou art an heyre to fayre lyving, that is nothing, if thou be disherited of learning, for better were it to thee to inherite righteousnesse then riches, and far more seemely were it for thee to have thy Studie full of bookes, then thy pursse full of mony: to get goods is the benefit of Fortune, to keepe them the gift of Wisedome.
[Thou art an heir to fair living; that is nothing if thou be disinherited of learning, for better were it to thee to inherit righteousness than riches and far more seemly were it for thee to have thy study full of books than thy purse full of money. To get goods is the benefit of fortune, to keep them the gift of wisdom. (1916 ed.)]John Lyly (c. 1553–1606) was an English writer [also Lilly or Lylie]
Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit, “Letter to Alcius” (1579)
(Source)
Being unable to abolish Love, the Church has desired at least to disinfect it, and has invented marriage.
[Ne pouvant supprimer l’amour, l’Église a voulu au moins le désinfecter, et elle a fait le mariage.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Journaux Intimes [Intimate Journals], “Mon cœur mis à nu [My Heart Laid Bare],” § 52 (1864–1867; pub. 1887) [tr. Isherwood (1930)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Unable to eliminate love, the Church at least wanted to disinfect it -- and hence created marriage.
[tr. Sieburth (2022)]Unable to do away with love, the Church found a way to decontaminate it by creating marriage.
[Source]Unable to suppress love, the Church wanted at least to disinfect it, and it created marriage.
[Source]
ALBANY: You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face.William Shakespeare (1564–1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 4, sc. 2, l. 39ff (4.2.39-40) (1606)
(Source)
Speaking to Goderil.
We’ve tried ignorance for a thousand years. It’s time we try education.
Joycelyn Elders (b. 1933) American pediatrician, public health administrator, academic
Penn & Teller: Bullshit!, s. 4, ep. 6 “Abstinence” (2006-06-05)
(Source)
On sex education for kids.
Economists are surgeons who have an excellent scalpel but a jagged lancet — they operate exquisitely on the dead but torture the living.
[Les économistes sont des chirugiens qui on un excellent scalpel et un bistouri ébréché, opérant à merveille sur le mort et martyrisant le vif.]
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, ¶ 457 (1795) [tr. Dusinberre (1992)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Political Economists are surgeons with excellent scalpels and blunted bistouries; they work on the dead to a marvel and torture the living.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]An economist is a surgeon with an excellent scalpel and a rough-edged lancet, who operates beautifully on the dead and tortures the living.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]Economists are surgeons who wield an excellent scalpel and a chipped bistoury, and operate wonderfully on the dead flesh and agonize the living.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]Economists are surgeons who have an excellent scalpel and chipped scissors, who operate marvelously on the dead and who make martyrs of the living.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
Books are embalmed minds; they make the great of other days our present teachers. Through books we look, as through “a glass darkly,” upon those vast multitudes whose bodies have passed to dust, and form the earth we tread upon, and through them we, in our turn, shall be made known to coming time.
Christian Nestell Bovee (1820–1904) American epigrammatist, writer, publisher
Intuitions and Summaries of Thought, Vol. 1, “Books” (1862)
(Source)
There is really no way of considering a book independently of one’s special sensations in reading it on a particular occasion. In this as in everything else one must allow a certain relativity. In a sense, one can never read the book that the author originally wrote, and one can never read the same book twice.
Edmund Wilson, Jr. (1895–1972) American writer, literary critic, journalist
The Triple Thinkers, Foreword (1948 ed.)
(Source)
Alas, proud Christians, faint with misery,
So warped of vision in the inward sense
You trust in your backslidings! Don’t you see
That we are worms, whose insignificance
Lives but to form the angelic butterfly
That flits to judgement naked of defence?
Why do you let pretension soar so high,
Being as it were but larvae — grubs that lack
The finished form that shall be by and by?[O superbi Cristian, miseri lassi!
Che, della vista della mente infermi,
Fidanza avete ne’ ritrosi passi;
Non v’ accorgete voi, che noi siam vermi
Nati a formar l’ angelica farfalla,
Che vola alla giustizia senza schermi?
Di che l’ animo vostro in alto galla,
Poi siete quasi entomata in difetto,
Sì come verme, in cui formazion falla?]Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 10, l. 121ff (10.121-129) (1314) [tr. Sayers (1955)]
(Source)
Criticizing prideful Christians.
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:O, miserable Pride! of Blindness born!
Vile retrograde Ambition! theme of Scorn!
Can Reptiles in the dust, of dust be proud? --
Boast of their meanness, falsify their end;
From their immortal hopes at once descend.
And let a dowerless Vice their prospects cloud? --
As Reptiles, who their painted plumes display,
(Tho; crawling once in dust,) and wing their way
On Summer-buxom gales, and claim the Sky:
Thus were ye born, and thus you claim your flight
To the pure Precincts of celestial Light,
If on no fpurious Pride your hopes rely.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 23-24]Christians and proud! O poor and wretched ones!
That feeble in the mind’s eye, lean your trust
Upon unstaid perverseness! Know ye not
That we are worms, yet made at last to form
The winged insect, imp’d with angel plumes
That to heaven’s justice unobstructed soars?
Why buoy ye up aloft your unfleg’d souls?
Abortive then and shapeless ye remain,
Like the untimely embryon of a worm!
[tr. Cary (1814)]O haughty Christians! miserable, alas!
From mental sight to weakness that's allied,
Confiding in perverseness and in pride,
Perceive ye not we are but merely worms,
Born embryo of angelic butterfly,
Which, unrestrained, to justice flies on high,
Where is the object of your souring flight?
Insect, in whom defecta lone prevails,
And worm, in which the true formatiln fails.v [tr. Bannerman (1850)]O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones!
Who, in the vision of the mind infirm
Confidence have in your backsliding steps,
Do ye not comprehend that we are worms,
Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly
That flieth unto judgment without screen?
Why floats aloft your spirit high in air?
Like are ye unto insects undeveloped,
Even as the worm in whom formation fails!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]O proud Christians, wretched and weary, who, weak in the sight of the mind, have confidence in your backward paces, do ye not perceive that we are worms, born to form the angelic butterfly which flies without screen to the judgement? In respect of what does your mind float on high, since ye are as it were defective insects, like a worm in which formative power is in default?
[tr. Butler (1885)]Proud Christians, wretched, weary, and undone!
Who of your mental sight are so bereaved
That ye have faith in backward paths alone;
That we are worms have ye not yet perceived,
Born but to form the Angelic butterfly
That soareth up to judgment unreprieved?
Of what your spirit doth it vaunt so high?
Since ye are unformed insects at the best,
Worms as it were unfinished utterly.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]O proud Christians, wretched weary ones, who, diseased in vision of the mind, have confidence in backward steps, are ye not aware that we are worms born to form the angelic butterfly which flies unto judgment without defence? Why doth your mind float up aloft, since ye are as it were defective insects, even as a worm in which formation fails?
[tr. Norton (1892)]O ye proud Christians, wretched and weary, who, sick in mental vision, put trust in backward steps,
perceive ye not that we are worms, born to form the angelic butterfly that flieth to judgment without defence?
Why doth your mind soar on high, since ye are as 'twere imperfect insects, even as the grub in which full form is wanting?
[tr. Okey (1901)]O vainglorious Christians, weary wretches who are sick in the mind's vision and put your trust in backward steps, do you not perceive that we are worms born to form the angelic butterfly that soars to judgement without defence? Why does your mind float so high, since you are as it were imperfect insects, like the worm that is undeveloped?
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]O ye proud Christians, weary and sad of brow,
Who, tainted in the vision of the mind,
In backward steps your confidence avow,
Preceive ye not that we are worms, designed
To form the angelic butterfly, that goes
To judgment, leaving all defence behind?
Why doth your mind take such exalted pose,
Since ye, disabled, are as insects, mean
As worm which never transformation knows?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]O you proud Christians, wretched souls and small,
who by the dim lights of your twisted minds
believe you prosper even as you fall --
can you not see that we awer works, each one
born to become the Angelic butterfly
that flies defenseless to the Judgment Throne?
what have your souls to boast of and be proud?
You are no more than insects, incomplete
as any grub until it burst the shroud.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]O proud Christians, wretched and weary, who, sick in mental vision, put trust in backward steps: are you not aware that we are worms, born to form the angelic butterfly that flies until judgment without defenses? Why does your mind soar up aloft, since you are as it wer imperfect insects, even as the worm in which full form is wanting?
[tr. Singleton (1973)]O haughty Christians, wretched, sluggish souls,
all you whose inner vision is diseased,
putting your trust in things that pull you back,
do you not understand that we are worms,
each born to form the angelic butterfly,
that flies defenseless to the Final Judge?
Why do your souls’ pretensions rise so high,
since you are but defective insects still,
worms as yet imperfectly evolved?
[tr. Musa (1981)]O proud Christians, wretched and exhausted,
Who, sick in mind, and not seeing aright,
Go confidently in the wrong direction;
Do you not perceive that we are grubs,
Born to turn into the angelic butterfly
Which flies towards justice without defence?
Why does your mind float aloft
Since you are no more than defective insects,
Like the grub which has not reached its full development?
[tr. Sisson (1981)]O Christians, arrogant, exhausted, wretched,
Whose intellects are sick and cannot see,
Who place your confidence in backward steps,
Do you not know that we are worms and born
To form the angelic butterfly that soars,
Without defenses, to confront His judgment?
Why does your mind presume to flight when you
Are still like the imperfect grub, the worm
Before it has attained its final form?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]O proud Christians, weary wretches, who, weak in mental vision, put your faith in backward steps,
do you not perceive that we are worms born to form the angelic butterfly that flies to justice without a shield?
Why is it that your spirit floats on high, since you are like defective insects, like worms in whom formation is lacking?
[tr. Durling (2003)]O proud Christians, weary and wretched, who, infirm in the mind’s vision, put your trust in downward steps: do you not see that we are caterpillars, born to form the angelic butterfly, that flies to judgement without defence? Why does your mind soar to the heights, since you are defective insects, even as the caterpillar is, in which the form is lacking?
[tr. Kline (2002)]Proud Christians, wretched and — alas! — so tired,
who, feeble in your powers of mental sight,
place so much faith in your own backward tread,
do you not recognize that you are worms
born to become angelic butterflies
that fly to justice with no veil between?
Why is it that your thoughts float up so high?
You, with your faults, are little more than grubs,
chrysalides (no more!) that lack full form.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]O vainglorious Christians, miserable wretches!
Sick in the visions engendered in your minds,
you put your trust in backward steps.
Do you not see that we are born as worms,
though able to transform into angelic butterflies
that unimpeded soar to justice?
What makes your mind rear up so high?
You are, as it were, defective creatures,
like the unformed worm, shaped from the mud.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]O haughty Christians, miserable and weary,
Driven by sickness rioting in your mind,
Placing eternal trust in what walks backward,
Unable to see that human beings are worms,
Born to create angelic butterflies
That fly to God's judgment, needing no other protection.
Why do you let your mind soar into Heaven,
Since what you truly are is imperfect insects,
Just as the worm must wait to come into being?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter can be said to remedy anything.
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1922–2007) American novelist, journalist
Cat’s Cradle, ch. 88 [Bokonon] (1963)
(Source)
Give, give, give — what is the point of having experience, knowledge, or talent if I don’t give it away? Of having stories if I don’t tell them to others? Of having wealth if I don’t share it? I don’t intend to be cremated with any of it! It is in giving that I connect with others, with the world, and with the divine.
Isabel Allende (b. 1942) Chilean-American writer
“In Giving I Connect with Others,” This I Believe series, All Things Considered, NPR (2005-04-04)
(Source)
Written as a tribute to her daughter, Paula, who died in December 1992.
Why then do I spend so many words on the subject of pleasure? Why, because, far from being a charge against old age, that it does not much feel the want of any pleasures, it is its highest praise. But, you will say, it is deprived of the pleasures of the table, the heaped up board, the rapid passing of the wine-cup. Well, then, it is also free from headache, disordered digestion, broken sleep. But if we must grant pleasure something, since we do not find it easy to resist its charms, — for Plato, with happy inspiration, calls pleasure “vice’s bait,” because of course men are caught by it as fish by a hook, — yet, although old age has to abstain from extravagant banquets, it is still capable of enjoying modest festivities.
[Quorsum igitur tam multa de voluptate? Quia non modo vituperatio nulla, sed etiam summa laus senectutis est, quod ea voluptates nullas magno opere desiderat. Caret epulis exstructisque mensis et frequentibus poculis. Caret ergo etiam vinulentia et cruditate et insomniis. Sed si aliquid dandum est voluptati, quoniam eius blanditiis non facile obsistimus, divine enim Plato “escam malorum” appellat voluptatem quod ea videlicet homines capiantur ut pisces, quamquam immoderatis epulis caret senectus, modicis tamen conviviis delectari potest.]Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 13 / sec. 44 (13.44) (44 BC) [tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
(Source)
The reference to Plato is to Timaeus, 69D: "κακοῦ δέλεαρ".
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Therfor thene ye may aske and demaunde why I haue said so many thynges of flesshely delyte and of lecherye, wherfor I answere you that the blame and the shame is not onely ynoughe. But namely it is the grete lawde and praysyng of olde age that it desyreth but lytle flesshely delectacyons. Olde age chargith nevir of dyetes nor of dyvers deynty metys nor of tables richely and dyversly arrayde nor of many dyners drynkys. Olde age wille not be fulle of wyn often for doubte of sekenes. Olde age wille not suffre the akyng of the bely as is the colyk or of the stone or costyfnes whiche comyth of takyng so muche mete and so often that it abideth rawe within the stomake. Olde age desyrith not wakyng in the tyme that nature hath ordeyned to slepe. Albeit an aged man is gretly disposed to wake ayenst his will forsoth the philosopher Platon whiche spake dyversly in a mater that delectacyon at∣tempted by euill disposed men that leyen the baite & the snare to delite aged men in repleccion of lustis & metys not helefull to them & bycause that men be taken & decevued by the baite sett in the hoke or angle as the bird is taken in the snare how be it that olde age wolde have no metys ne his etyngys excessiuely. Algatys they may delite in deynte metys and in smale feedyngys and temperate dyete.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]But to what purpose do we speak so much of pleasure? Verily, to the intent that hereby it may be seen and proved, how that it cannot only not be objected to old age for any vituperation and dispraise, but rather for a singular praise and commendation; because old-age doth not esteem nor care for these pleasures. But some other will say: It lacketh sumptuous fare, costly dishes, delicate viands, and drinks of all sorts. Hereto I answer tihat, therefore, it lacketh also drunkenness, crudity, or indigestion, fantastical dreams, and ridiculous apparitions. But if we must any whit yield to to pleasure because we cannot easily resist the blandishments and allurements thereof (for the divine philosopher Plato calleth pleasure the bait of all mischief, because men therewith are caught and snared even as fishes are with the hook), I say, that although old age be not endangered nor given to superfluous and immoderate banqueting, and at unseasonable hours, yet in temperate and moderate feasting it may be solaced and comfortably recreated.
[tr. Newton (1569)]But to what end speak we so much of pleasure? because that you may see that no blame, but much praise is to be given to age, because it doth not lust after pleasure, which is so dangerous a thing. Age wanteth banquetting, gluttony, and quaffing; it is also without surfeting, drunkennesse, or dreaming; but yet if we may any wayes take some pleasure, because we do not easily resist her flatteries (for divine Plato calleth pleasure the bait of evils, because men are caught ther∣with as fishes with a hook) tho age despiseth immoderate banquets, yet may it be delighted with moderate meetings.
[tr. Austin (1648), ch. 12-13]Then to our age (when not to pleasures bent)
This seems an honour, not disparagement.
We, not all pleasures like the Stoicks hate;
But love and seek those which are moderate.
(Though Divine Plato thus of pleasures thought,
They us, with hooks and baits, like fishes caught.)
[tr. Denham (1669)]I have dwelt the longer on this Topick of bodily Pleasures, to shew, it is so far from being a Disparagement to our Age, to be deprived of these Enjoyments, that it is its greatest Praise and Commendation, that it even takes off our Inclinations from the violent Pursuit of them. Though we may not indulge our selves so freely in our Cups, though we do not relish the Pleasures of the most luxurious Provisions, will not our being freed from the fatal Consequences of Indigestion, and a disordered Imagination, make us ample amends? But if we must make some Allowances for Pleasure, and submit to its Blandishments (which Plato calls the Bait of humane Miseries, with which like Fishes we are tempted to the Hook). Though we are deprived of the Pleasure of immoderate Feasting, yet can we still relish the Charms of an agreeable and chearful Entertainment; which arises not from the Delicacy or Variety of Courses, but from the Conversation of the Company.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]And why all this of Pleasure? Because not only to over-rule the Objection, but to shew that it is the greatest Encomium on Old Age, that he never ardently desires what we call Pleasure. Doth Age want Banquets, great Tables, and frequent Use of Wine? Confequently it is free from Drunkenness, Surfeits, and watchful Nights. But if we are any ways to give ourselves up to Pleasure, because we cannot altogether attend her Invitations, as Plato says, who calls it "a Bait for Evil, and that Men are taken with it as Fishes with a Hook," yet Old Age will abstain from Revelling, and take Delight only in moderate Entertainments.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]Thus I judged it necessary to be the more full on this Head of Pleasure, and shew the Dangers of it, to the end you might clearly see, it is so far from being a Disadvantage to Old-Age, its Palling our Inclinations to Pleasure, that on the contrary it is rather a great and valuable Blessing. For if it is in a good Measure dead to the Enjoyments others find in Banqueting, sumptuous Feasts and Carousings, it is freed at the same time from all the troublesome Effects of these; as Fumes, Crudities, uneasy Sleep, or the want of it; with divers other such like Disorders. Yet as Nature has so ordered it, that Pleasure should have a very strong Hold of us, and the Inclination to it appears deeply founded in our very Composition, (and 'tis with too much Justice that the divine Plato calls it the Bait of Evil, by which Men are caught as Fish with a Hook) therefore, though Age is not taken, nor can well bear, with those splendid sumptuous Feastings and Revels, yet we are not so insensible to the Pleasures of Life, but that we can indulge ourselves, and take a real Delight in sober and temperate Entertainments with our Friends.
[tr. Logan (1744)]I have dwelt the longer upon this article, in order to convince you, that the little relish which old age leaves us for enjoyments of the sensual kind, is so far from being a just imputation on this period of life, that on the contrary it very considerably raises its value. If age render us incapable of taking an equal share in the flowing cups, and luxuriant dishes of splendid tables, it secures us too from their unhappy consequences -- from painful indigestions, restless nights, and disordered reason. Accordingly, the divine Plato justly represents pleasure as the bait by which vice ensnares and captivates her deluded votaries. But if this enticement cannot always be resisted, if the palate must sometimes be indulged, I do not scruple to say that an old man, although his years will guard him from excess, is by no means excluded from enjoying, in a moderate degree, the convivial gratifications.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]With what view then do I say so much about pleasure? Because not only is it no ground of censure, but even the highest praise of old age, that it desires no pleasures very much. But is old age without feasts, and loaded tables, and frequent cups? Therefore it is without drunkenness, and indigestion and troubled sleep. But if something must be given to pleasure, since we do not easily withstand its blandishments, (for divinely Plato calls pleasure the bait of evils, because evidently men are taken by it as fishes by a hook,) though old age is debarred immoderate feasts, yet, it may be gratified with temperate socialities.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]To what end then have I said so many things about pleasure? Because it is so far from being any disparagement, that it is even the highest praise to old age, that it has no great desire for any pleasures. It lacks banquets, and piled up boards, and fast-coming goblets; it is therefore also free from drunkenness and indigestion and sleeplessness. But if something must be conceded to pleasure (since we do not easily withstand its allurements, for Plato beautifully calls pleasure the bait of evils, inasmuch as, by it, in fact, men are caught as fishes with a hook), although old age has nothing to do with extravagant banquets, yet in reasonable entertainments it can experience pleasure.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]But to what purpose am I saying so much about pleasure? Because it is not only no reproach to old age, but even its highest merit, that it does not severely feel the loss of bodily pleasures. But, you may say, it must dispense with sumptuous feasts, and loaded tables, and oft-drained cups. True, but it equally dispenses with sottishness, and indigestion, and troubled dreams. But if any license is to be given to pleasure, seeing that we do not easily resist its allurements, -- insomuch that Plato calls pleasure the bait of evil, because, forsooth, men are caught by it as fishes by the hook, -- old age, while it dispenses with excessive feasting, yet can find delight in moderate conviviality.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]But why so much of pleasure? Why, you see,
Not only is it no disgrace to age,
But ev'n its greatest merit that it longs
No more for pleasure, cares no more for feasts
With loaded tables and o'er-flowing wine.
It misses too the headache, and the night
Of sickness and of sleeplessness that comes.
If something we must grant to pleasure's claim:
(It is not easy to resist its charm:
The godlike Plato thinks it is a bait
To catch the foolish, just as fish are caught:)
Though we cannot indulge in gorgeous feasts,
A modest dinner we can still enjoy.
[tr. Allison (1916)]Why then, do I dwell at such length on pleasure? Because the fact that old age feels little longing for sensual pleasures not only is no cause for reproach, but rather is ground for the highest praise. Old age lacks the heavy banquet, the loaded table, and the oft-filled cup; therefore it also lacks drunkenness, indigestion, and loss of sleep. But if some concession must be made to pleasure, since her allurements are difficult to resist, and she is, as Plato happily says, “the bait of sin,” -- evidently because men are caught therewith like fish -- then I admit that old age, though it lacks immoderate banquets, may find delight in temperate repasts.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]Why then do I have so much to say about pleasures of this kind? Because the weakening of temptation to indulge in them, far from supplying a pretext to reproach old age, is a reason for offering it the most cordial complements. Age has no banquets, no tables piled high, no cups filled again and again. So it avoids drunkenness, and indigestion, and sleepless nights! However, the allurements of pleasure are admittedly hard to resist; they are "the bait of sin," as Plato brilliantly calls them, which catch men like fish. If, then, we have to make them some concession, there is no reason why old age, though spared extravagant feasting, should not gratify itself with entertainments of a more modest nature.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]Why am I dwelling at such length on pleasure? Because it is not only no condemnation of old age, but rather its highest recommendation, that it feels no overwhelming desire for pleasure. The old do not share in banquets, in tables piled high with food, and in endless toasts; as a consequence, they do not share in drunkenness, in indigestion, and in sleeplessness. But if we must make some concession to pleasure, since we do not easily resist its blandishments (in a moment of inspiration Plato called pleasure “the bait of evil” -- obviously because men are caught by it like fish) -- even though the old do not share in unrestrained high life, still they can derive pleasure from moderate conviviality.
[tr. Copley (1967)]Why do I go on so much about pleasure? As old men, we should not so much resent our age as praise it in the most glowing terms, because now we cannot feel any more interest in sensual temptations. As old men, we no longer attend formal banquets at tables loaded down with delicious food and wine; but on the other hand we no longer suffer from hangovers and indigestion and insomnia. But even so it may be hard to resist temptation completely. Plato cleverly referred to pleasure as “sin-bait,” because men are caught by it like fishes. There is, then, in our old age, nothing wrong with spending a convivial evening with friends, although we will not indulge ourselves to excess.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]So why am I going on and on about pleasure? Because I want to impress upon you how the fact that old age is less subject to the passions for pleasure is not an indictment of this stage of life, but actually one of its greatest advantages. If it lacks allnight parties, or tables heaped hy with rich food and powerful dirnk, it also lacks drunkenness, indigestion, insomnia, and "the morning after." It is not that old age lacks pleasures, it is that they change. And they are healthier. Gone are the overindulgent feasts and in their place we take pleasure in delightful dinner parties.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]So why do I tarry on pleasure’s enticement?
The fact that old age has no longing for it
Not only can’t be taken as a demerit,
But on the contrary is the best of credits.
Freedom from decked tables, from banquets
And also from frequent potations
Means freedom from drunkenness,
From insomnia and indigestions.
But we’re bound to make some concessions
To better resist pleasure’s alluring snares
Which Plato calls the bait of transgressions,
By which like fish men are caught unawares.
Although old age sumptuous banquets must shun
In light repasts it finds indeed some fun.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
The eazyest thing for our freinds to diskover in us, and the hardest thing for us to diskover in ourselfs, is that we are growing old.
[The easiest thing for our friends to discover in us, and the hardest thing for us to discover in ourselves, is that we are growing old.]
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)
Guard against that vanity which courts a compliment, or is fed by it.
Thomas Chalmers (1780–1847) Scottish minister, theologian, political economist, church leader
Journal (1810-05-10)
(Source)
Language both reflects and shapes society. Culture shapes language and then language shapes culture. Little wonder that the words we use to talk to each other, and about each other, are the most important words in our language: they tell us who I am, they tell us who you are, they tell us who “they” are.
Rosalie Maggio (1944–2021) American writer
Unspinning the Spin: The Women’s Media Center Guide to Fair and Accurate Language, “Writing Guidelines / Introduction” (2014)
(Source)
The first sentence (and much of the groundwork for the overall work) is included in her The Bias-Free Word Finder: A Dictionary of Non-Discriminatory Language, Introduction (1992).
The source link is to the web page that the WMC set up for the book.
There is no logical explanation for despair. You can no more reason yourself into cheerfulness than you can reason yourself an extra six inches in height. You can only be better prepared.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
Speech, Samaritans annual report launch, London (1996-05-17)
Regarding the emotional breakdown which led him once to abandon a play in mid-production, and subsequently again contemplate suicide. The Samaritans are a suicide-prevention group.
Quoted in Gary Younge, "Enter Fry, centre stage, for bravura performance on depression and suicide," The Guardian (1996-05-18).
In fact the state is primarily an organization for killing foreigners, that’s its main purpose. There are, of course, other things they do. They do a certain amount of educating, but, in the course of educating you, try very hard to make the young think it is a grand thing to kill foreigners.
Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
Collected in Bertrand Russell's BBC Interviews (1959) [UK] and Bertrand Russell Speaks His Mind (1960) [US].
I am among those who think that science has great beauty. A scientist in his laboratory is not only a technician: he is also a child placed before natural phenomena which impress him like a fairy tale. We should not allow it to be believed that all scientific progress can be reduced to mechanisms, machines, gearings, even though such machinery also has its beauty.
Marie Curie (1867–1934) Polish-French physicist and chemist [b. Maria Salomea Skłodowska]
“The Future of Culture [L’Avenir de la Culture]” conference, Madrid (1933-05-03/07)
(Source)
One of Curie's last public addresses. As quoted in Eve Curie Labouisse, Madame Curie: A Biography, ch. 24 (1937) [tr. Sheean (1938)].
Another translation:I believe that science has great beauty. A scientist int he laboratory is not a mere technician; he is also a child confronting natural phenomena that impress him as though they were fairy tales. We should not allow it to believed that all scientific progress can be reduced to mechanisms, machines, and gearings, even though such machine also has beauty.
[Source]
If there’s no money in poetry, neither is there poetry in money.
Robert Graves (1895–1985) English poet, novelist, critic
“Mammon,” lecture, London School of Economics and Political Science (1963-12-06)
(Source)
Reprinted in Mammon and the Black Goddess (1965).
The actual American childhood is less Norman Rockwell and Walt Disney than Nathaniel Hawthorne and Edgar Allan Poe.
Success is going from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm.
Winston Churchill (1874–1965) British statesman and author
(Spurious)
Widely attributed to Churchill, but not found in his writings or contemporary reports of his speech. It's also attributed to Abraham Lincoln, with similar lack of provenance.
Variants:More information about this quotation:
- "Success is the ability to move from one failure to another without loss of enthusiasm."
- "Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm."
- "To succeed is to fail repeatedly, but without losing enthusiasm."
Modesty is to merit as shadows are to the figure in a painting: it strengthens it and sets it off.
[La modestie est au mérite ce que les ombres sont aux figures dans un tableau: elle lui donne de la force et du relief.]Jean de La Bruyère (1645–1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 2 “Of Personal Merit [Du Mérite Personnel],” § 17 (2.17) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Modesty is to Merit, what Shades are to the Figures in a Picture; it gives it Strength and Heightening.
[Curll ed. (1713)]Modesty is to Merit as Shades to Figures in a Picture; giving it Strength and Beauty.
[Browne ed. (1752)]Modesty is to merit what shade is to figures in a picture; it gives it strength and makes it stand out.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
BEARD, n. The hair that is commonly cut off by those who justly execrate the absurd Chinese custom of shaving the head.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Beard,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1881-04-30).
I always fear less a dull man who is naturally strong
Than someone who is weak and clever.
[ἀεὶ γὰρ ἄνδρα σκαιὸν ἰσχυρὸν φύσει
ἧσσον δέδοικα τἀσθενοῦς τε καὶ σοφοῦ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 290 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 51, Musgrave frag. 11. (Source (Greek)). Other translations:By far less dangerous I esteem the fool
Endued with strength of body, than the man
Who's feeble and yet wise.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]I always fear a stupid if bodily powerful man less than one who is both weak and clever.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Always I fear an unintelligent but naturally strong man less than a weak and clever one.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]I fear less the powerful but stupid
than the weak and cunning.
[Source]
Whence had you this illustrious name?
From virtue and unblemish’d fame.
By birth the name alone descends;
Your honour on yourself depends:
Think not your coronet can hide
Assuming ignorance and pride.
Learning by study must be won,
‘Twas ne’er entail’d from son to son.John Gay (1685–1732) English poet and playwright
“The Pack-Horse and Carrier (To a young Nobleman),” ll. 41-42
(Source)
Some printings of the poem leave off the prologue, of which this is a part.
But, indeed, the dictum that truth always triumphs over persecution, is one of those pleasant falsehoods which men repeat after one another till they pass into commonplaces, but which all experience refutes. History teems with instances of truth put down by persecution. If not suppressed forever, it may be thrown back for centuries.
One must work, if not out of inclination, at least out of despair. All things considered, work is far less boring than entertaining oneself.
[Il faut travailler, sinon par goût, au moins par désespoir, puisque, tout bien vérifié, travailler est moins ennuyeux que s’amuser.]Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Journaux Intimes [Intimate Journals], “Mon cœur mis à nu [My Heart Laid Bare],” § 40 (1864–1867; pub. 1887) [tr. Sieburth (2022)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:One must work, if not from inclination at least from despair, since, as I have fully proved, to work is less wearisome than to amuse oneself.
[tr. Isherwood (1930)]It is necessary to work, if not from inclination, at least from despair. As it turns out, work is less boring than amusing oneself.
[Source, e.g.]One must work, if not from inclination, at least out of despair -- since it proves, on close examination, that work is less boring than amusing oneself.
[Source, e.g.]
GLOUCESTER: As flies to wanton boys are we to th’ gods;
They kill us for their sport.William Shakespeare (1564–1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 4, sc. 1, l. 41ff (4.1.41-42) (1606)
(Source)
Study the historian before you begin to study the facts. This is, after all, not very abstruse. It is what is already done by the intelligent undergraduate who, when recommended to read a work by that great scholar Jones of St. Jude’s, goes round to a friend at St. Jude’s to ask what sort of chap Jones is, and what bees he has in his bonnet. When you read a work of history, always listen out for the buzzing. If you can detect none, either you are tone deaf or your historian is a dull dog. The facts are really not at all like fish on the fishmonger’s slab. They are like fish swimming about in a vast and sometimes inaccessible ocean; and what the historian catches will depend partly on chance, but mainly on what part of the ocean he chooses to fish in and what tackle he chooses to use – these two factors being, of course, determined by the kind of fish he wants to catch. By and large, the historian will get the kind of facts he wants. History means interpretation.
E. H. Carr (1892–1982) British historian, journalist, international relations theorist [Edward Hallett "Ted" Carr]
What Is History?, ch. 1 (1961)
(Source)
Sometimes when a person sees the roguery of poor people and the thievery of people in high positions, he is tempted to regard society as a forest full of robbers, the most dangerous of which are the policemen that are set up to stop the others.
[En voyant quelquefois les friponneries des petits et les brigandages des hommes en place, on est tenté de regarder la société comme un bois rempli de voleurs, dont les plus dangereux sont les archers, préposés pour arrêter les autres.]
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, ¶ 198 (1795) [tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Seeing the rogueries of little men and the extortions of the great in office, one is tempted to look upon Society as a wood infested by robbers, the most dangerous being the constables sent to arrest the others.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]At times, seeing the petty thieveries of the petty, and the robberies of those in office, one is tempted to regard society as a wood full of thieves, of which the most dangerous are the officers set there to arrest the others.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]Sometimes, when one observes the rogueries perpetuated by petty people and the graft committed by men in office, one is tempted to think of society as a wood infested by thieves, of which the most dangerous are the archers, posted to prevent the others from escaping.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]There are times when, seeing the nasty tricks people get up to, the gross frauds of high officers, you're tempted to think that you're in a wood infested by thieves, amongst whom the most dangerous are the police, whose purpose is supposed to be that of arresting them.
[tr. Parmée (2003), ¶ 152]
When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation.
Jorge Luis Borges (1899–1986) Argentine writer
Quoted in “The Talk of the Town” column, The New Yorker (1986-07-07)
This is the earliest reference I could find (which I've not been able to confirm) to this frequently attributed quotation.
The root of human virtue seldom bears
Like branches; and the Giver wills it so,
That men may know it is His gift, not theirs.
[Rade volte risurge per li rami
l’umana probitate; e questo vole
quei che la dà, perché da lui si chiami.]Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 7, l. 121ff (7.121-123) (1314) [tr. Sayers (1955)]
(Source)
Dante noting that the sons of great kings rarely measure up to their fathers, a reminder from God that those who would be great must seek His blessing, not rely on their heritage.
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:Rarely into the branches of the tree
Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains
He who bestows it, that as his free gift
It may be call’d.
[tr. Cary (1814)]Rarely shoots merit up into the boughs,
Or human worth; and such the will of Him,
That from the Donor they should seem to come.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]Not oftentimes upriseth through the branches
The probity of man; and this He wills
Who gives it, so that we may ask of Him.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]Seldom rises human goodness through the branches; and this wills He who gives it in order that from Him it may be claimed.
[tr. Butler (1885)]But rarely in the branch again is grown
Our human excellence, so willeth He
Who gives it, that the boon be called His own.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]Rarely doth human goodness rise through the branches, and this He wills who gives it, in order that it may be asked from Him.
[tr. Norton (1892)]Rarely doth human probity rise through the sons branches:
and this he wills who giveth it,
so that it may be prayed for from him.
[tr. Okey (1901)]Rarely does human worth rise through the branches, and this He wills who gives it, that it may be sought from Him.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]Full seldom human virtue rises through
The branches; and the Giver wills it so,
That they to him for such a gift may sue.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]Rare is the tree that lifts to every limb
the sap of merit -- He who gives, so wills
that men may learn to beg their best from Him.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]Rarely does human worth rise through the branches, and this He wills who gives it, in order that it may be asked from Him.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]Not often does the sap of virtue rise
to all the branches. This is His own gift,
and we can only beg that He bestow it.
[tr. Musa (1981)]Rarely does human worth rise through the branches;
That is the will of him whose gift it is,
So that it should be matter for petition.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]How seldom human worth ascends from branch to branch,
and this is willed by Him who grants that gift,
that one may pray to Him for it!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]Seldom does human probity rise up through the branches, and this is willed by him who gives it, that it may be attributed to him.
[tr. Durling (2003)]Human worth rarely increases through its branches: and this He wills who creates it, so that it may be asked for of him.
[tr. Kline (2002)]It seldom happens that man’s probity
will rise through every branch. He wills it thus,
so, given from beyond, it’s known as His.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]Rarely does human worth rise through the branches.
And this He wills who gives it,
so that it shall be sought from Him.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]Goodness rarely flows to the spreading branches
Of a family tree, for God who gives it decrees
That since the gift is His, humans must ask it.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
The rule is, we are to Give as we would Receive, cheerfully, quickly, and without Hesitation; for there’s no Grace in a Benefit that sticks to the fingers.
Seneca the Younger (c. 4 BC-AD 65) Roman statesman, philosopher, playwright [Lucius Annaeus Seneca]
Morals, Part 1 “Of Benefits,” ch. 7 “The Manner of Obliging” [tr. L’Estrange (1693)]
(Source)
The awareness of the ambiguity of one’s highest achievements (as well as one’s deepest failures) is a definite symptom of maturity.
Paul Tillich (1886–1965) American theologian and philosopher
Quoted in Time (1963-05-17)
(Source)
Speech given at the 40th Anniversary Dinner for Time, reported in the following week's magazine.
It is the certainty that they possess the truth that makes men cruel.
[C’est la certitude qu’ils tiennent la vérité qui rend les hommes cruels.]
Anatole France (1844–1924) French poet, journalist, novelist, Nobel Laureate [pseud. of Jaques-Anatole-François Thibault]
(Misquotation)
Widely attributed (in French and English) to Anatole France, but not found in his works, including the one location it is sometimes cited from, Les Dieux Ont Soif [The Gods Are Thirsty, The Gods Are Athirst, The Gods Will Have Blood] (1912), in either English translation or, more importantly, in the original French.
While thematically keeping in the novel's depiction of the French Revolution and the Terror, the closest match to the quote I can find is this portion of ch. 22, talking about the expediting of the trials of those charged with counter-revolutionary crimes, eliminating the need to prove a misdeed by simply inquiring as to the accused's beliefs.Justice thus abbreviated satisfied them; the pace was quickened, and no obstacles were left to fret them. They limited themselves to an inquiry into the opinions of the accused, not conceiving it possible that anyone could think differently from themselves except in pure perversity. Believing themselves the exclusive possessors of truth, wisdom, the quintessence of good, they attributed to their opponents noting but error and evil. They felt themselves all-powerful; they envisaged God.
[tr. Allinson (1913), Jackson (1921)]Justice, thus curtailed, satisfied them; the pace was quickened and no obstacles were left to confuse them. They confined themselves to inquiring into the opinions of the accused, not conceiving it possible that anyone, except from pure perversity, could think differently from themselves. Believing themselves to possess a monopoly of truth, wisdom and goodness, they attributed to their opponents all error, stupidity and evil. They felt themselves omnipotent: their eyes had seen God.
[tr. Davies (1979)]La justice abrégée les contentait. Rien, dans sa marche accélérée, ne les troublait plus. Ils s’enquéraient seulement des opinions des accusés, ne concevant pas qu’on pût sans méchanceté penser autrement qu’eux. Comme ils croyaient posséder la vérité, la sagesse, le souverain bien, ils attribuaient à leurs adversaires l’erreur et le mal. Ils se sentaient forts : ils voyaient Dieu.
[Original]
We are of each an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all of the eclat of a proverb.
No form of liberty is worth a darn which doesn’t give us the right to do wrong now and then.
H. L. Mencken (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 3, § 16 (1916)
(Source)
A neurotic is someone who’s afraid to see himself as he’s afraid others see him.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913–1983) American journalist and author
The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 10 (1966)
(Source)
Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,
To render with thy precepts less
The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen Man with his own mind.
Remember, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
Dale Carnegie (1888–1955) American writer, lecturer
How to Stop Worrying and Start Living, Part 10 “How I Conquered Worry” (1948)
(Source)
Final note by Carnegie on the story "Six Major troubles Hit Me All At Once" by C. I. Blackwood of Oklahoma City.
The phrase was a "rule" Carnegie taught in his adult courses, and he collected many reports from students about how the various rules taught in the course actually worked in their lives. Thus the "remember" above and how the phrase is also mentioned, quoted in the past tense, in the story "I Now Look for the Green Light," by Joseph M. Cotter of Chicago: "I was told over and over that 'today was the tomorrow I had worried about yesterday.'"
We cannot all do everything.
[Non omnia possumus omnes.]Virgil (70–19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
Eclogues [Eclogae, Bucolics, Pastorals], No. 8 “Pharmaceutria,” l. 63 (8.63) (42-38 BC) [tr. Mackail (1899)]
(Source)
Invoking the Pierian Muses to finish the tale, after the singer has given the first half.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:All cannot all things do.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]We cannot all do all things.
[tr. Davidson (1854), Wilkins (1873), Greenough (1895), Day Lewis (1963), @sentantiq (2018)]Scarce may all do everything.
[tr. Calverley (c. 1871)]We are not equal all
To every theme.
[tr. Palmer (1883)]All things are not possible to all.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]We cannot all do everything.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]We are not all sufficient for all things.
[tr. Mackail/Cardew (1908)]No single singer touches all the chords.
[tr. Williams (1915)]We cannot all succeed in every task.
[tr. Rieu (1949)]For none of us all is skilful in all things.
[tr. Johnson (1960)]We are not all capable of all things.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
I will apologise for many things that I have done, but I will not apologise for the things that should never be apologised for. It is a little theory of mine that has much exercised my mind lately, that most of the problems of this silly and delightful world derive from our apologising for those things which we ought not to apologise for, and failing to apologise for those things for which apology is necessary.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
Moab Is My Washpot, “Falling In,” ch. 3 (1997)
(Source)
One of the things that militates against happiness is worry, and that’s one respect in which I’ve become much happier as I’ve grown older. I worry much less and I found a very useful plan in regard to worry, which is to think, “Now what is the very worst thing that could happen?” And then think, “Well, after all it wouldn’t be so very bad a hundred years hence; it probably won`t matter.” After you’ve really made yourself think that, you won`t worry so much. Worry comes from not facing unpleasant possibilities.
Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
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).
We must not forget that when radium was discovered no one knew that it would prove useful in hospitals. The work was one of pure science. And this is a proof that scientific work must not be considered from the point of view of the direct usefulness of it. It must be done for itself, for the beauty of science, and then there is always the chance that a scientific discovery may become like the radium a benefit for humanity.
Marie Curie (1867–1934) Polish-French physicist and chemist [b. Maria Salomea Skłodowska]
“The Discovery of Radium,” lecture, Vassar College (1921-05-14)
(Source)
Whoever said money can’t solve your problems must not have had enough money to solve them.
Ariana Grande (b. 1993) American singer, songwriter, actress
“7 Rings”, Thank U, Next (2018)
(Source)
A wise woman once said to me that there are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these she said is roots, the other, wings.
Hodding Carter II (1907–1972) American journalist and author [William Hodding Carter II]
Where Main Street Meets the River, “It’s How We Like It” (1953)
(Source)
Almost always quoted without the notes about the "wise woman," e.g.,There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children: one of these is roots, the other, wings.
Can’t you understand that if you take a law like evolution and make it a crime to teach it in public schools, tomorrow you could make it a crime to teach it in private schools, and tomorrow you may make it a crime to read about it? And soon you may ban books and newspapers. And then you may turn Catholic against Protestant, and Protestant against Protestant, and try to foist your own religion upon the mind of man. If you can do one you can do the other, because fanaticism and ignorance is forever busy and needs feeding.
Nedrick Young (1914–1968) American screenwriter and actor [pseud. Nathan E. Douglas]
Inherit the Wind, film (1960) [with Harold Jacob Smith]
(Source)
The original 1951 play was written by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee, but does not include this line, delivered in the film by Spencer Tracy. Young and Smith share the screenwriting credits.
BACCHUS, n. A convenient deity invented by the ancients as an excuse for getting drunk.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Bacchus,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1881-04-23).
Call me a scoundrel, only call me rich!
All ask how great my riches are, but none
Whether my soul is good.[ἔα με κερδαίνοντα κεκλῆσθαι κακόν]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 181 (Nauck, TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Gummere (1925)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 65. Found (in Latin) in Seneca, Epistulae morales ad Lucilium, 115.14:Sine me vocari pessimum, ut dives vocer.
An dives, omnes quaerimus, nemo, an bonus.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:If any gain ensue, I am content.
To be term'd wicked. We all ask this question,
Whether a man be rich, not whether virtuous.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Let me be called a scoundrel, but a rich one.
We all ask if he’s rich, not if he’s good.
[Source]
Learning without thought ends in a blur. Thought without learning will soon totter.
[學而不思則罔、思而不學則殆。]Confucius (c. 551- c. 479 BC) Chinese philosopher, sage, politician [孔夫子 (Kǒng Fūzǐ, K'ung Fu-tzu, K'ung Fu Tse), 孔子 (Kǒngzǐ, Chungni), 孔丘 (Kǒng Qiū, K'ung Ch'iu)]
The Analects [論語, 论语, Lúnyǔ], Book 2, verse 15 (2.15) (6th C. BC – AD 3rd C.) [tr. Ware (1950)]
(Source)
Many (but not all) translators suggest that learning/study here is not general academics, but examining and maintaining the ancient traditions.
(Source (Chinese)). Other translations:Learning without thought is labour lost; thought without learning is perilous.
[tr. Legge (1861)]Learning with [sic] thought is a snare; thought without learning is a danger.
[tr. Jennings (1895)]Study without thinking is labour lost. Thinking without study is perilous.
[tr. Ku Hung-Ming (1898)]Learning without thought is useless. Thought without learning is dangerous.
[tr. Soothill (1910)]Education without meditation is useless. Meditation without education is risky.
[tr. Soothill (1910), alternate]Research without thought is a mere net and entanglement: thought without gathering data, a peril.
[tr. Pound (1933)]He who learns but does not think, is lost. He who thinks but does not learn is in great danger.
[tr. Waley (1938)]If one learns from others but does not think, one will be bewildered. If, on the other hand, one thinks but does not learn from others, one will be in peril.
[tr. Lau (1979)]If one studies but does not think, one is caught in a trap. If one thinks but does not study, one is in peril.
[tr. Dawson (1993)]To study without thinking is futile. To think without studying is dangerous.
[tr. Leys (1997)]Learning without thinking is fruitless; thinking without learning is perplexing.
[tr. Huang (1997); additional translations.]Studying but not thinking, it is confused; Thinking but not studying, it is dangerous.
[tr. Cai/Yu (1998)]Learning without due reflection leads to perplexity; reflection without learning leads to perilous circumstances.
[tr. Ames/Rosemont (1998)]If he studies and does not reflect, he will be rigid. If he reflects but does not study, he will be shaky.
[tr. Brooks/Brooks (1998)]To learn and never think -- that's delusion. But to think and never learn -- that is perilous indeed!
[tr. Hinton (1998)]If you learn without thinking about what you have learned, you will be lost. If you think without learning, however, you will fall into danger.
[tr. Slingerland (2003)]Learning without thought is pointless. Thought without learning is dangerous.
[tr. Watson (2007)]If you learn but do not think, you will be dazed. If you think but do not learn, you will be in danger.
[tr. Chin (2014)]Learning from books without critical thinking results in confusion. Thinking vacuously without learning from books is perilous.
[tr. Li (2020)]
When the whole world is running towards a cliff, he who is running in the opposite direction appears to have lost his mind.
C. S. Lewis (1898–1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
(Spurious)
Popularly attributed to Lewis, but no citation is ever given, and it is not found in searches of his written works.
Language doesn’t belong to grammarians, linguists, wordsmiths, writers, or editors. It belongs to the people who use it. It goes where people want it to go, and, like a balky mule, you can’t make it go where it doesn’t want to go.
Rosalie Maggio (1944–2021) American writer
Talking About People: A Guide to Fair and Accurate Language, “Writing Guidelines” (1997)
(Source)
In this country it is useful from time to time to kill one admiral in order to encourage the others.
[Dans ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de tems en tems un Amiral pour encourager les autres.]
Voltaire (1694–1778) French writer [pseud. of Francois-Marie Arouet]
Candide, ch. 23 (1759) [tr. Adams (1966)]
(Source)
As Candide witnesses the (real-life) 1757 execution of English Admiral John Byng, who withdrew his undermanned ships from a naval battle during the French invasion of Minorca at the beginning of the Seven Years War. Byng was scapegoated for poor condition of the Mediterranean fleet, and court martialed for "failing to do his utmost" in the battle, which carried an automatic death penalty. In real life, Voltaire had been one of the people who attempted to intervene on Byng's behalf. In the book, Candide is so appalled by the injustice, he refuses to touch ground on English soil.
The last few words ("pour encourager les autres") are frequently quoted on their own referring to any harsh punishment used as an example to incent those who follow.
(Source (French)). Other translations:In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put an admiral to death, in order to encourage the others to fight.
[tr. Smollett (1759)]In this country it is found good, from time to time, to kill one Admiral to encourage the others.
[Source (1859)]In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put one admiral to death, in order to spirit up the others.
[tr. Smollett/Thornton (1920)]In this country it is good to kill an Admiral from time to time to encourage the others.
[Modern Library ed. (1920)]In this country it is necessary, now and then, to put one admiral to death in order to inspire the others to fight.
[tr. Morley (1922)]In this country it is a good thing to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others.
[Random House ed. (1928)]In this country it’s good to kill an admiral now and then, to encourage the others.
[tr. Bair (1959)]In this country it is found requisite,now and then to kill an admiral, in order to encourage the others.
[tr. Cameron (1997)]In this country they think it's good to kill an Admiral from time to time, to encourage the others.
[tr. Gordon (1999)]
On the necessary points, unity. On the questionable points, liberty. In everything, love.
Augustine of Hippo (354–430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus]
(Misattributed)
A commentary on theological / doctrinal dispute, frequently attributed to Augustine, but not found in his works.
The first known occurrence of such an expression is in Marco Antonio de Dominis, De Republica Ecclesiastica, Book 4, ch. 8, penultimate sentence (1617):Omnesque mutuam amplecteremur unitatem in necessariis, in non necessariis libertatem, in omnibus caritatem.
[And let us all embrace one another, unity in what is necessary, liberty in what is not necessary, charity in all things.]
The phrase was also adapted by Richard Baxter (1615-1691) as his motto. See also Rupertus Meldenius (1626).
More discussion about this quotation here: Liber locorum communium: In necessariis unitas, in non necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas (Marco Antonio De Dominis, 1617), cf. In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas (and other variants). English: "In essentials unity ..."
The least vile of all merchants is he who says: “Let us be virtuous, since, thus, we shall gain much more money than the fools who are dishonest.” For the merchant, even honesty is a financial speculation.
[Le moins infâme de tous les commerçants, c’est celui qui dit: Soyons vertueux pour gagner beaucoup plus d’argent que les sots qui sont vicieux. — Pour le commerçant, l’honnêteté elle-même est une spéculation de lucre.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
Journaux Intimes [Intimate Journals], “Mon cœur mis à nu [My Heart Laid Bare],” § 47 (1864–1867; pub. 1887) [tr. Isherwood (1930)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Another translation:The least despicable of merchants is the one who says: Let us be virtuous so that we can make far more money than those vice-ridden fools. -- For the merchant, even honesty offers a money-making opportunity.
[tr. Sieburth (2022)]
Change is certain. Progress is not.
E. H. Carr (1892–1982) British historian, journalist, international relations theorist [Edward Hallett "Ted" Carr]
(Attributed)
This is widely cited to his collection, From Napoleon to Stalin and Other Essays (1980), but I cannot find it there.
Love, such as it exists in high society, is merely an exchange of whims and the contact of skins.
[L’amour, tel qu’il existe dans la société, n’est que l’échange de deux fantaisies et le contact de deux épidermes.]
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. 6, ¶ 359 (1795) [tr. Dusinberre (1992)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Love as it exists in society is nothing more than the exchange of two fancies and the contact of two epidermes.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902)]Love, as it s practiced in Society, is nothing but the exchange of two caprices and the contact of two skins.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]Love as it exists in society is merely the mingling of two fantasies and the contact of two skins.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]Love as it exists in society is only the exchange of two fantasies and the contact of two epidermises.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
A good heavy book holds you down. It’s an anchor that keeps you from getting up and having another gin and tonic. Many a person has been saved from summer alcoholism, not to mention hypertoxicity, by Dostoyevsky.
Roy Blount, Jr. (b. 1941) American writer, speaker, journalist, humorist
“Reading and Nothingness: Of Proust in the Summer Sun,” New York Times (1985-06-02)
(Source)
That the world can be improved and yet must be celebrated as it is are contradictions. The beginning of maturity may be the recognition that both are true.
William M. Stott (b. 1940) American diplomat, academic in American Studies and English, author
Documentary Expression and Thirties America, ch. 15 (1973)
(Source)
Closing words of the book.
For always the man in whom thought springs up over thought sets his mark farther off, for the one thought saps the force of the other.
[Ché sempre l’omo in cui pensier rampolla
sovra pensier, da sé dilunga il segno,
perché la foga l’un de l’altro insolla]Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 5, l. 16ff (5.16-18) (1314) [tr. Sinclair (1939)]
(Source)
Virgil telling Dante he's overthinking things, letting himself be distracted.
(Source (Italian)). Other translations:He, that permits his Fancy thus to stray.
With every lure, will rarely find his way
To that great end, to which his soul is bent:
For gath'ring fancies warp the steady light
Of Reason's beam, and leave her whelm'd in night,
For ever baffled of her first intent.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 3]He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,
Still of his aim is wide, in that the one
Sicklies and wastes to nought the other’s strength.
[tr. Cary (1814)]He in whose bosom thought springs up to thought,
Destroys himself the figures of his loom --
The birth of one prepares the others's tomb.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]For evermore the man in whom is springing
Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark,
Because the force of one the other weakens.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]For ever the man, in whom thought wells up over thought, removes far from himself his mark, because the rush of the second slackens the first.
[tr. Butler (1885)]Always the man in whom new thought doth grow
On previous thought, from his true course doth roam,
Because the one doth flag the other's glow.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]For always the man in whom thought on thought wells up removes from himself his aim, for the force of one weakens the other.
[tr. Norton (1892)]For ever the man in whom thought wells up on thought, sets back his mark, because the one saps the force of the other.
[tr. Okey (1901)]For always he in whom thought overtakes
The former thought, his goal less clearly sees.
Because the one the other must relax.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]He aims beside the mark whose fancies bubble
One on another, driving back and drumming
Each other out, so that his eye sees double.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]For when a man lets his attention range
toward every wisp, he loses true direction,
sapping his mind's force with continual change.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]For always the man in whom thought wells
up on thought sets back his mark,
for one thought weakens the force of the other.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]The man who lets his thoughts be turned aside
by one thing or another, will lose sight
of his true goal, his mind sapped of its strength.
[tr. Musa (1981)]Because the man in whom thoughts bubble up
One after the other, goes wide of the mark,
Because one thought weakens the force of another.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]The man in whom thought thrusts ahead of thought
allows the goal he’s set to move far off --
the force of one thought saps the other’s force.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]For always the man in whom one care sprouts above the other makes his target more distant, because the impulse of the one weakens the other.
[tr. Durling (2003)]Since the man, in whom thought rises on thought, sets himself back, because the force of the one weakens the other.
[tr. Kline (2002)]When thought is bred too rampantly from thought,
then, of himself, a man will miss the mark.
Each mental thrust debilitates the first.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]For any man who lets one thought --
and then another -- take him over
will soon lose track of his first goal.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]A man whose mind is distracted lets thought after thought
Keep him from getting where he wants to go:
They hammer each other down; nothing can grow.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Where the heart is in the giving, there is no question of goods that are being traded thriftily. In giving, you throw a bridge across the chasm of your solitude.
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (1900–1944) French writer, aviator
Citadelle [The Wisdom of the Sands], ch. 46 (1948) [tr. Gilbert (1950)]
(Source)
Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt;
And every grin, so merry, draws one out.John Wolcot (1738–1819) English satirist (pseud. Peter Pindar)
Expostulatory Odes to a Great Duke and a Little Lord, Ode 15, ll. 5-6 (1789)
(Source)
Among the lessons taught by the French Revolution, there is none sadder or more striking than this — that you may make everything else out of the passions of men except a political system that will work, and that there is nothing so pitilessly and unconsciously cruel as sincerity formulated into dogma.
James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) American diplomat, essayist, poet
“Abraham Lincoln” (1864), My Study Windows (1871)
(Source)
We smile at the women who are eagerly following the fashions in dress whilst we are as eagerly following the fashions in thought.
Austin O'Malley (1858–1932) American ophthalmologist, professor of literature, aphorist
Keystones of Thought (1914)
(Source)
For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?
The majority always has its way in the end. So does the undertaker. But neither gains in pleasantness by the fact.
H. L. Mencken (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
A Little Book in C Major, ch. 3, § 11 (1916)
(Source)
Hunt out and talk about the good that is in the other fellow’s church, not the bad, and you will do away with all this religious hatred you hear so much of nowadays.
I know which side my bread is buttered on: the side which falls on the carpet.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913–1983) American journalist and author
The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 10 (1966)
(Source)
Titan! to thee the strife was given
Between the suffering and the will,
Which torture where they cannot kill;
And the inexorable Heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of Fate,
The ruling principle of Hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate,
Refused thee even the boon to die:
The wretched gift Eternity
Was thine — and thou hast borne it well.
“Horace or Boileau have said such a thing before you.” — “I take your word for it, but I have used it as my own. May I not have the same correct thought after them, as others may have after me?”
[Horace ou Despréaux l’a dit avant vous. — Je le crois sur votre parole; mais je l’ai dit comme mien. Ne puis-je pas penser après eux une chose vraie, et que d’autres encore penseront après moi?]
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],” § 69 (1.69) (1688) [tr. Van Laun (1885)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:Horace and Boileau have said such a thing before you. I take your word for't, but I said it as my own, and may not I think a just thought after them, as others may do the same after me?
[Bullord ed. (1696)]HORACE or BOILEAU have said such a thing before you: I take your word for it, but I said it as my own, and may not I think a just Thought after them, as others may do the same after me?
[Curll ed. (1713)]Horace or Boileau have said such a thing before you. I take your Word, for it, but I said it as my own, and may not I have the same just Thought after them, as others may have it after me?
[Browne ed. (1752)]Horace or Boileau said it before you. -- I take your word for that; but I said it as my own. Cannot I, after them, have a true thought, and one which others will think after me?
[tr. Stewart (1970), § 68]
Speaking of atheism, I remember one time when Jack Patton and I went to a sermon in Vietnam delivered by the highest-ranking Chaplain in the Army. He was a General.
The sermon was based on what he claimed was a well-known fact, that there were no Atheists in foxholes.
I asked Jack what he thought of the sermon afterwards, and he said, “There’s a Chaplain who never visited the front.”
There is simply no limit to the tyrannical snobbery that otherwise decent people can descend into when it comes to music.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian
Moab Is My Washpot, “Joining In,” ch. 3 (1997)
(Source)
A fanatical group all together have a comfortable feeling that they’re all friends with one another. They are all very much excited about the same thing. You can see it in any political party. There’s always a fringe of fanatics in any political party, and they feel very cozy with one another; and when that is spread about and is combined with a propensity to hate some other group, you get fanaticism well developed.
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).
I have no dress except the one I wear every day. If you are going to be kind enough to give me one, please let it be practical and dark so that I can put it on afterwards to go to the laboratory.
Marie Curie (1867–1934) Polish-French physicist and chemist [b. Maria Salomea Skłodowska]
Letter to Casimir Dluski’s mother on her offer of a wedding dress (1895)
(Source)
Regarding an offered wedding dress for her marriage to Pierre Curie (1865-07-26). As quoted in Eve Curie Labouisse, Madame Curie: A Biography, ch. 8 (1937) [tr. Sheean (1938)].
The world runs on from one folly to another; and the man who, solely from regard to the opinion of others, and without any wish or necessity of his own, toils after gold, honour, or any other phantom, is no better than a fool.
[Alles in der Welt läuft doch auf eine Lumperei hinaus, und ein Mensch, der um anderer willen, ohne daß es seine eigene Leidenschaft, sein eigenes Bedürfnis ist, sich um Geld oder Ehre oder sonst was abarbeitet, ist immer ein Tor.]
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) German poet, statesman, scientist
Die Leiden des Jungen Werthers [The Sorrows of Young Werther], Book 1, “July 20” (1774) [tr. Boylen (1854)]
(Source)
(Source (German)). Another translation:A man who works at another’s will, not for his own passion or his own need, but for money or honor, is always a fool.
[tr. 1779]
AMBITION, n. An overmastering desire to be vilified by enemies while living and made ridiculous by friends when dead.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Ambition,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911).
Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp, where the entry read:An overmastering desire to be abused by the newspapers during life, and have an epitaph by Hector A. Stuart after death.
Bierce frequently mocked the verse of Stuart, a San Francisco poet.
How deep is evil rooted in the breasts
Of all men! tho’ our pardon we extend not
To him, who, grasping at some great reward,
Becomes a sinner: yet since, in proportion
As he grows boldly profligate, he reaps
Greater advantages, he with more ease
The world’s reproachful language may sustain.[ὡς ἔμφυτος μὲν πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις κάκη”
ὅστις δὲ πλεῖστον μισϑὸν εἰς χεῖρας λαβὼν
κακὸς γένηται, τῷδε συγγνώμη μὲν οὔ,
πλείω δὲ μισϑὸν μείζονος τόλμης ἔχων
τὸν τῶν λεγόντων ῥᾷον ἂν φέροι Ῥόγον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 297 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 299. Barnes frag. 44, Musgrave frag. 9. (Source (Greek)). Other translations:All men have badness in their natures! The one who takes most pay into his hands, and proves bad, gets no pardon; but if he has more pay for greater audacity, he'll endure censorious talk more easily.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]There is evil in all men. Whoever gets his hands on good money and is seen to be wicked, he is roundly condemned. But if he were yet more daring, gaining even greater reward, he would have less of a problem enduring being criticized by others.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
Take then good note of it. Nothing is too small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises. Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true you guess. We learn from failure, not from success!
Abraham "Bram" Stoker (1847–1912) Irish author, theater manager, journalist
Dracula, ch. 10, Dr. Seward’s Diary, 7 September [Abraham Van Helsing] (1897)
(Source)
It is a misfortune not to be loved at all, but an affront to be loved no longer.
[C’est un malheur de n’être point aimée ; mais c’est un affront de ne l’être plus.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689–1755) French political philosopher
Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 3, Zachi to Usbek (1721) [tr. Healy (1964)]
(Source)
Chiding Usbek for leaving her and his other wives behind as he travels to France.
(Source (French)). Other translations:'Tis a Misfortune not to have been belov'd; but 'tis an Affront to be belov'd no more.
[tr. Ozell (1736)]It is a misfortune not to have been beloved; but it is an affront to be beloved no more.
[tr. Ozell (1760)]Not to have been beloved is a misfortune; but to be so no more, an affront.
[tr. Floyd (1762)]It is a misfortunate not to be loved, but to have love withdrawn from one is an outrage.
[tr. Davidson (1891)]Not to be loved is a misfortune, but to be abandoned is an -- outrage.
[tr. Betts (1897)]It is a misfortune to be not loved; but it's an insult to be no longer loved.
[tr. Mauldon (2008)]It is misery not to be loved, but it is an offense to be loved no longer.
[tr. MacKenzie (2014)]
He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly need not be rich.
Benjamin Franklin (1706–1790) American statesman, scientist, philosopher, aphorist
Poor Richard (1734 ed.)
(Source)
It is often said that the Church is a crutch. Of course it’s a crutch. What makes you think you don’t limp?
William Sloane Coffin, Jr. (1924–2006) American minister, social activist
Credo, “The Church” (2004)
(Source)
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow.John Donne (1572–1631) English poet
Holy Sonnets, No. 10, “Death Be Not Proud,” ll. 5-6 (1609)
(Source)
It is wrong to wear diamonds before dusk, except on one’s marriage rings. Before, after, and during breakfast, luncheon and dinner, it is vulgar to wear a mixture of colored precious stones. It is always a comfort to know that so many things one can’t afford to do anyway are vulgar.
And yet if there’s one thing consistent about language it is that it is constantly changing. The only languages that do not change are those whose speakers are dead.
Rosalie Maggio (1944–2021) American writer
Unspinning the Spin: The Women’s Media Center Guide to Fair and Accurate Language, “Writing Guidelines / Introduction” (2014)
(Source)
This is sometimes attributed to Maggio's earlier The Bias-Free Word Finder (1992), but only the first sentence is present in that version.
The source link is to the web page that the WMC set up for the book.
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled.
The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.Ray Bradbury (1920–2012) American writer, futurist, fabulist
“The Secret Mind,” The Writer (1965-11)
(Source)
Reprinted in Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing (1990).
But the rich man is tortured by fears, wasted with griefs, aflame with greed, never free from care, always restless and uneasy, out of breath from unending struggles with his enemies. It is true enough that he increases his holdings beyond measure by going through these miseries; but at the same time, thanks to that very increase, he also multiples his bitter cares. In contrast, the individual of moderate means is satisfied with his small and limited property; he is loved by family and friends; he enjoys sweet peace with his relations, neighbors, and friends; he is devout in his piety, benevolent of mind, sound of body, moderate in his style of life, unblemished in character, and untroubled in conscience. I do not know whether anyone would be so foolish as to have any doubt about which of the two to prefer.
[Alium praediuitem cogitemus; sed diuitem timoribus anxium, maeroribus tabescentem, cupiditate flagrantem, numquam securum, semper inquietum, perpetuis inimicitiarum contentionibus anhelantem, augentem sane his miseriis patrimonium suum in inmensum modum atque illis augmentis curas quoque amarissimas aggerantem; mediocrem uero illum re familiari parua atque succincta sibi sufficientem, carissimum suis, cum cognatis uicinis amicis dulcissima pace gaudentem, pietate religiosum, benignum mente, sanum corpore, uita parcum, moribus castum, conscientia securum. Nescio utrum quisquam ita desipiat, ut audeat dubitare quem praeferat.]
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. Babcock (2012)]
(Source)
On wealth and power as the foundation for happiness.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Let my wealthy man take with him fears, sorrows, covetousness, suspicion, disquiet, contentions, making immense additions to his estate only by adding to his heap of most bitter cares; and let my poor man take with him sufficiency with little, love of kindred, neighbours, friends, joyous peace, peaceful religion, soundness of body, sincereness of heart, abstinence of diet, chastity of carriage, and security of conscience. Where should a man find any one so sottish as would make a doubt which of these to prefer in his choice?
[tr. Healey (1610)]But the rich man is anxious with fears, pining with discontent, burning with covetousness, never secure, always uneasy, panting from the perpetual strife of his enemies, adding to his patrimony indeed by these miseries to an immense degree, and by these additions also heaping up most bitter cares. But that other man of moderate wealth is contented with a small and compact estate, most dear to his own family, enjoying the sweetest peace with his kindred neighbors and friends, in piety religious, benignant in mind, healthy in body, in life frugal, in manners chaste, in conscience secure. I know not whether any one can be such a fool, that he dare hesitate which to prefer.
[ed. Dods (1871)]But, our wealthy man is haunted by fear, heavy with cares, feverish with greed, never secure, always restless, breathless from endless quarrels with his enemies. By these miseries, he adds to his possessions beyond measure, but he also piles up for himself a mountain of distressing worries. The man of modest means is content with a small and compact patrimony. He is loved by his own, enjoys the sweetness of peace, in his relations with kindred, neighbors, and friends, is religious and pious, of kindly disposition, healthy in body, self-restrained, chaste in morals, and at peace with his conscience. I wonder if there is anyone so senseless as to hesitate over which of the two to prefer.
[tr. Zema/Walsh (1950)]Let us suppose that the rich man is troubled by fears, pining with grief, burning with desire, never secure, always restless, panting in ceaseless struggles with his foes, though he does, to be sure, by dint of such suffering accumulate great additions to his estate even beyond measure, these additions adding also their quota of corrosive anxieties. Let the man of modest means, on the other hand, be self-sufficient on his trim and tiny property, beloved by his family, enjoying the most agreeable relations with his kindred, neighbours and friends, devoutly religious, kindly disposed, in good physical condition, leading a simple life, free from vice and untroubled in conscience. I don’t suppose that there is anyone so foolish as to think of doubting which one he would prefer.
[tr. Green (Loeb) (1963)]But the rich man is tortured by fears, worn out with sadness, burnt up with ambition, never knowing serenity of repose, always panting and sweating in his struggles with opponents. It may be true that he enormously swells his patrimony, but at the cost of those discontents, while by this increase he heaps up a load of further anxiety and bitterness. The other man, the ordinary citizen, is content with his strictly limited resources. He is loved by family and friends; he enjoys the blessing of peace with his relations, neighbours, and friends; he is loyal, compassionate, and kind, healthy in body, temperate in habits, of unblemished character, and enjoys the serenity of a good conscience. I do not think anyone would be fool enough to hesitate about which he would prefer.
[tr. Bettenson (1972)]The wealthy man, however, is troubled by fears; he pines with grief; he burns with greed. He is never secure; he is always unquiet and panting from endless confrontations with his enemies. To be sure, he adds to his patrimony in immense measure by these miseries; but alongside these additions he also heaps up the most bitter cares. By contrast, the man of moderate means is self-sufficient on his small and circumscribed estate. He is of his own family, and rejoices in the most sweet peace with kindred, neighbours and friends. He is devoutly religious, well disposed in mind, healthy in body, frugal in life, chaste in morals, untroubled in conscience. I do not know if anyone could be such a fool as to dare to doubt which to prefer.
[tr. Dyson (1998)]
Everything beautiful and noble is the result of reason and calculation. Crime, of which the human animal has learned the taste in his mother’s womb, is natural by origin. Virtue, on the other hand, is artificial, supernatural, since at all times and in all places gods and prophets have been needed to teach it to animalized humanity, man being powerless to discover it by himself. Evil happens without effort, naturally, fatally; Good is always the product of some art.
[Tout ce qui est beau et noble est le résultat de la raison et du calcul. Le crime, dont l’animal humain a puisé le goût dans le ventre de sa mère, est originellement naturel. La vertu, au contraire, est artificielle, surnaturelle, puisqu’il a fallu, dans tous les temps et chez toutes les nations, des dieux et des prophètes pour l’enseigner à l’humanité animalisée, et que l’homme, seul, eût été impuissant à la découvrir. Le mal se fait sans effort, naturellement, par fatalité ; le bien est toujours le produit d’un art.]
Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet, essayist, art critic
“Le Peintre de la Vie Moderne [The Painter of Modern Life],” sec. 11 (1863) [tr. Mayne (1964)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Another translation:Everything beautiful and noble is the result of reason and calculation. Crime, for which the human creature has acquired a taste in its mother’s womb, is natural in origin. Virtue, on the contrary, is artificial, unnatural since, at all times and among all nations, gods and prophets were necessary to teach virtue to animalistic humanity, which humanity alone was unable to discover. Evil occurs without effort, naturally, through fatality; good is always the product of artifice.
[tr. Kline (2020)]
EDGAR: The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.
William Shakespeare (1564–1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 3, sc. 4, l. 151 (3.4.151) (1606)
(Source)
I don’t make the infantryman look noble, because he couldn’t look noble even if he tried. Still there is a certain nobility and dignity in combat soldiers and medical aid men with dirt in their ears. They are rough and their language gets coarse because they live a life stripped of convention and niceties. Their nobility and dignity come from the way they live unselfishly and risk their lives to help each other.
Physical scourges and the calamities of human nature rendered society necessary. Society has added to natural misfortunes. The drawbacks of society have made government necessary, and government adds to society’s misfortunes. There is the history of human nature in a nutshell.
[Les fléaux physiques, et les calamités de la nature humaine ont rendu la Société nécessaire. La Société a ajouté aux malheurs de la Nature. Les inconvéniens de la Société ont amené la nécessité du gouvernement, et le gouvernement ajoute aux malheurs de la Société. Voilà l’histoire de la nature humaine.]
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, ¶ 67 (1795) [tr. Hutchinson (1902)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:The physical plagues and misfortunes of human nature have made Society necessary. Society has added to the ills of Nature. The difficulties of Society have created the necessity for Government, and Government now adds to the evils of Society. There you have the history of man.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]Physical disasters and the calamities of human nature have rendered society necessary. To the miseries of nature, society has added its own. The difficulties of society have evolved the necessity for government, and government has added to the miseries of society. This is the history of human nature.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]Physical disasters and the calamities of human nature made society necessary. Society's ordeals were then added to those of nature. The drawbacks of society led to the need for government, whereupon the evils of government were added to those of society. Such is the history of human nature.
[tr. Dusinberre (1992)]Physical plagues and the calamities of nature made society necessary. Society added to the misfortunes of nature. The inconveniences of society brought the necessity of government, and the government added to the misfortunes of society. This is the history of human nature.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
Mature people relate to each other without the need to merge.
It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding.
Kahlil Gibran (1883–1931) Lebanese-American poet, writer, painter [Gibran Khalil Gibran]
The Prophet, “Giving” (1923)
(Source)
Clever men are good, but they are not the best.
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).
You have reached the pinnacle of success as soon as you become uninterested in money, compliments, or publicity.
Orlando A. Battista (1917–1995) Canadian-American chemist, aphorist
Quotoons: A Speaker’s Dictionary, No. 3962 (1977 ed.)
(Source)
Often misattributed to Thomas Wolfe. More discussion about the origin of quotation: You Have Reached the Pinnacle of Success as Soon as You Become Uninterested in Money, Compliments, or Publicity – Quote Investigator®.
If life is a play, then old age is its last act — and we ought to leave the theater when we are weary or, even better, when we are satisfied.
[Senectus autem aetatis est peractio tamquam fabulae, cuius defetigationem fugere debemus, praesertim adiuncta satietate.]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. Cobbold (2012)]
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(Source (Latin)). Other translations:The poete whiche rehercith in the Scene in some fable owght to beware that he make not werye and that he noye not his heerers by ouer long rehercyng the fable. So that men owght not desire to lyve ouir olde age seeyng pryncypally that in that age or nevir he is fulle weerye for to lyve.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]And old age is, as it were, the peroration or final end of a man's time in this world, much like to the epilogue or catastrophe of an interlude, the wearisome repetition or defatigation whereof we ought to avoid and eschew, and especially when we are fully cloyed with satiety.
[tr. Newton (1569)]But old age is the last act of our life as of a play, of which there ought to be an end, especially when there is satiety and fulnesse of time joyned with it.
[tr. Austin (1648)]Good Acts (if long) seem tedious, so is Age
Acting too long upon this Earth her Stage.
[tr. Denham (1669)]For in Old Age we are as in the last Act of a Play, in which we ought to take our Leave when fully satisfied with the Enjoyment.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]And as the whole Course of Life but too much resembles a Farce, of which Old-Age is the last Act; when we have enough of it, 'tis most prudent to retire, and not to make a Fatigue of what we should endeavour to make only an Entertainment.
[tr. Logan (1744)]In fine, old age may be considered as the last scene in the great drama of life, and one would not, surely, wish to lengthen out his part till he sunk down sated with repetition and exhausted with fatigue.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]Now old age is the completion of life, as of a play, weariness of which we ought to avoid, especially when satiety is added.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]Now old age is the consummation of life, just as of a play; from the fatigue of which we ought to escape, especially when satiety is superadded.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]Old age is the closing act of life, as of a drama, and we ought in this to avoid utter weariness, especially if the act has been prolonged beyond its due length.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]Now, old age is as it were the playing out of the drama, the full fatigue of which we should shun, especially when we also feel that we have had more than enough of it.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]Age; is; the end; of life, as of a play:
We should avoid the weariness that comes,
The more, if we've enjoyed it to the full.
[tr. Allison (1916)]Moreover, old age is the final scene, as it were, in life's drama, from which we ought to escape when it grows wearisome and, certainly, when we have had our fill.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]When life's last act, old age, has become wearisome, when we have had enough, the time has come to go.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]Yes, old age is, so to speak, the last scene in the play; when we find it beginning to be tiresome we should beat a hasty retreat from it, especially when we feel as if we had seen all this before, entirely too many times.
[tr. Copley (1967)]Old age is the last act of the drama of life and when it is over we ought to leave it, especially if we have achieved a good fullness in it.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]Old age is but life’s drama’s final curtain.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]Old age is the final act in the play of life. When we have had enough and are weary, it is time to go.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]
Perhaps no other animal is so torn between alternatives. Man might be described fairly adequately, if simply, as a two-legged paradox. He has never become accustomed to the tragic miracle of consciousness. Perhaps, as has been suggested, his species is not set, has not jelled, but is still in a state of becoming, bound by his physical memories to a past of struggle and survival, limited in his futures by the uneasiness of thought and consciousness.
Child, your first birthday presents will come from nature’s wild —
Small presents: earth will shower you with romping ivy, foxgloves,
Bouquets of gipsy lilies and sweetly-smiling acanthus.[At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultu
errantis hederas passim cum baccare tellus
20mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho.]Virgil (70–19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
Eclogues [Eclogae, Bucolics, Pastorals], No. 4 “Pollio,” l. 18ff (4.18-20) (42-38 BC) [tr. Day Lewis (1963)]
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Celebrating the birth of Saloninus, a boy born in the consulship of his father and Virgil's patron C. Asinius Pollio. Or, possibly, writing of Marcellus, son of Augustus. Or maybe just a lot of veiled references to Augustus himself. Or, say some, divine prophecy of the future Jesus Christ. Lots of theories; some summaries here and here.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Which shall to thee (sweet childe) undrest, bring forth,
Berries, wilde Ivie, and shall pay first fruits
Of mixt Acanthus, with Egyptian roots.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]Unbidden Earth shall wreathing Ivy bring,
And fragrant Herbs (the promises of Spring)
As her first Off'rings to her Infant King.
[tr. Dryden (1709), l. 22ff]Gladly to thee its natal gifts the field,
Till'd by no human hand, bright Boy, shall yield;
The baccar's stem with curling ivy twine.
And colocasia and acanthus join.
[tr. Wrangham (1830)]Meanwhile the earth, O boy, as her first offerings, shall pour thee forth every where, without culture, creeping ivy with lady's glove, and Egyptian beans with smiling acanthus intermixed.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]On thee, child, everywhere shall earth, untilled,
Show'r, her first baby-offerings, vagrant stems
Of ivy, foxglove, and gay briar, and bean.
[tr. Calverley (c. 1871)]Yes, for you, sweet boy, shall the earth untilled pour forth far and wide a child's simple gifts, the creeping ivy twined with foxglove, and Egyptian beans blended with the bright smile of acanthus.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]To deck thy cradle earth spontaneous pours
The spikenard's perfume and the wealth of flowers,
Green ivy creeps around with graceful thread,
And bright acanthus smiles upon the bed.
[tr. King (1882), l. 282ff]Now, fairest boy, will the new-teeming earth
No culture wait, but pour to make thee mirth,
As toys of off'ring she can soonest bear,
Wild nard and errant ivy everywhere,
And with th' Egyptian lily twined in play,
Laughing acanthus.
[tr. Palmer (1883)]For thee, O boy,
first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth
her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray
with foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,
and laughing-eyed acanthus.
[tr. Greenough (1895)]Meanwhile the earth, O boy, as her first offerings, shall pour forth for you everywhere, without culture, creeping ivy with lady’s glove, and Egyptian beans with smiling acanthus intermixed.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]But on thee, O boy, untilled shall Earth first pour childish gifts, wandering ivy-tendrils and foxglove, and colocasia mingled with the laughing acanthus.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]To him shall bring
Uncultured earth her first small offerings,
Creeping wild ivy, arums, foxgloves too,
Smiling acanthus with bright polished leaf.
[tr. Mackail/Cardew, verse (1908)]For tributes at thy birth, O blessed babe.
The untilled earth with wandering ivies wild
Shall mingle spikenard, and from bounteous breast
Pour forth her lilies and Egyptian balm.
[tr. Williams (1915)]But for you, child, the earth untilled will pour forth its first pretty gifts, gadding ivy with foxglove everywhere, and the Egyptian bean blended with the laughing briar; unbidden it will pour forth for you a cradle of smiling flowers.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]Free-roaming ivy, foxgloves in every dell, and smiling acanthus mingled with Egyptian lilies — these, little one, are the first modest gifts that earth, unprompted by the hoe, will lavish on you.
[tr. Rieu (1949)]But these, dear boy, are the first pretty gifts in plenty
Our Earth from effortless fields shall bring you: ivy
With foxglove wandering hither and thither, commingled
With lotus and laughing-eyed acanthus.
[tr. Johnson (1960)]Dear child, there will be new little gifts for you,
Springtime valerian, and trailing ivy,
Egyptian beans, and smiling acanthus, all
poured out profusely from the untilled earth.
[tr. Ferry (1999)]And for you, boy, the uncultivated earth will pour out
her first little gifts, straggling ivy and cyclamen everywhere
and the bean flower with the smiling acanthus.
[tr. Kline (2001)]And for you, little boy, the uncultivated earth will scatter its first small gifts, wandering ivy and cyclamens everywhere, beans mixed with laughing acanthus.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will always hurt me. Bones mend and become actually stronger in the very place they were broken and where they have knitted up; mental wounds can grind and ooze for decades and be re-opened by the quietest whisper.
Only about 1 percent of my writings are concerned with sex, but the conventional public is so obsessed with sex that it hasn’t noticed the other 99 percent of my writings.
Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) English mathematician and philosopher
Interview by Woodrow Wyatt, BBC TV (1959)
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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).
One never notices what has been done; one can only see what remains to be done.
Marie Curie (1867–1934) Polish-French physicist and chemist [b. Maria Salomea Skłodowska]
Letter to her brother Joseph (1894-03-18)
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As quoted in Eve Curie Labouisse, Madame Curie: A Biography, ch. 9 (1937) [tr. Sheean (1938)].
Childhood is a thing that happens so early you don’t forget it. Everything else you grow out of, but you never recover from childhood.
Beryl Bainbridge (1932–2010) English novelist
“Beryl Bainbridge and Her Tenth Novel,” interview by Willa Petschek, New York Times (1981-03-01)
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Hey all!! Just found out I’m woke … all this time I just thought I was good at history.
Jon Stewart (b. 1962) American satirist, comedian, and television host. [b. Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz]
Twitter (2022-03-30)
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The writer who considers only the taste of his own time is concerned more with his personal fame than with that of his books: we should always aim at perfection, and then we shall receive from posterity that justice which our contemporaries sometimes deny us.
[Celui qui n’a égard en écrivant qu’au goût de son siècle songe plus à sa personne qu’à ses écrits: il faut toujours tendre à la perfection, et alors cette justice qui nous est quelquefois refusée par nos contemporains, la postérité sait nous la rendre.]
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],” § 67 (1.67) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
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(Source (French)). Other translations:He who regards nothing more in his Works than the taste of the Age, has a greater value for his Person than his Writings: He should always aim at Perfection; and tho his Contemporaries refuse him Justice, Posterity will give it him.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]He who regards nothing more in his Works than the Taste of his own Age, Considers his Person more than his Writings: He should always aim at Perfection, and tho his Contemporaries refuse him Justice, Posterity will give it him.
[Curll ed. (1713)]He who regards nothing more in his Works than the Taste of the Age, has a greater value for his Person than his Writings: He should always aim at Perfection; and though his Cotempararies refuse him Justice, he will be better used by Posterity.
[Browne ed. (1752)]He who only writes to suit the taste of the age, considers himself more than his writings. We should always aim at perfection, and then posterity will do us that justice which sometimes our contemporaries refuse.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
ADMIRABILITY, n. My kind of ability, as distinguished from your kind of ability.
Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914?) American writer and journalist
“Admirability,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
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Not included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1881-05-12)