F. Anstey (1856-1934) English novelist and journalist (pseud. of Thomas Anstey Guthrie) The Brass Bottle, ch. 1 “Horace Ventimore Receives a Commission” [Ventimore] (1900)
(Source)
The great misfortune, the root of all the evil to come, was the loss of faith in the value of personal opinions. People imagined that it was out of date to follow their own moral sense, that they must all sing the same tune in chorus, and live by other people’s notions, the notions which were being crammed down everybody’s throat.
Boris Pasternak (1890-1960) Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator Doctor Zhivago [До́ктор Жива́го], Part 2, ch. 13 “Opposite the House of Caryatids,” sec. 14 [Yury] (1955) [tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
The main misfortune, the root of all evil to come, was loss of the confidence in the value of one's own opinion. People imagined that it was out of date of follow their own moral sense, that they must all sing in chorus, and live by other people's notions, notions that were crammed down everybody's throat.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]
The main trouble, the root of the future evil, was loss of faith in the value of one’s own opinion. People imagined that the time when they followed the urgings of their moral sense was gone, that now they had to sing to the general tune and live by foreign notions imposed on everyone.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]
It is always easy as well as agreeable for the inferior ranks of mankind to claim merit from the contempt of that pomp and pleasure which fortune has placed beyond their reach. The virtue of the primitive Christians, like that of the first Romans, was very frequently guarded by poverty and ignorance.
Edward Gibbon (1737-1794) English historian The Decline And Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. 2, ch. 15 (1781)
(Source)
EVANGELIST, n. A bearer of good tidings, particularly (in a religious sense) such as assure us of our own salvation, and the damnation of our neighbors.
Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914?) American writer and journalist
“Evangelist,” 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 (1884-05-24).
The original entry in the Waspconcluded: “The evangelists proper are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John; the evangelists improper are the parsons."
You cannot be a slave of two masters; you will hate one and love the other; you will be loyal to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.
The Bible (The New Testament) (AD 1st - 2nd C) Christian sacred scripture
Luke 16:13 [GNT (1976)]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
[KJV (1611)]
No one can be the slave of two masters: he will either hate the first and love the second, or treat the first with respect and the second with scorn. You cannot be the slave both of God and of money.
[JB (1966)]
No one can be the slave of two masters: he will either hate the first and love the second, or be attached to the first and despise the second. You cannot be the slave both of God and of money.
[NJB (1985)]
No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be loyal to the one and have contempt for the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.
[CEB (2011)]
No one can serve two masters, for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
If it be true that a man is rich who wants nothing, a wise man is a very rich man.
[S’il est vrai que l’on soit riche de tout ce dont on n’a pas besoin, un homme fort riche, c’est un homme qui est sage.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 6 “Of Gifts of Fortune [Des Biens de Fortune],” § 49 (6.49) (1688) [tr. Van Laun (1885)]
(Source)
A banquet is probably the most fatiguing thing in the world except ditch-digging.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Dictation (1907-07-30)
(Source)
In Benjamin Griffin and Harriet Elinor Smith, eds., Autobiography of Mark Twain, Vol. 3 (pub. 2015).
Also recorded in Bernard DeVoto, ed., Mark Twain in Eruption, "The Last Visit to England," ch. 1 "White and Red" (1940). DeVoto identifies it coming from the dictations of July-August 1907.
A shy man means a lonely man — a man cut off from all companionship, all sociability. He moves about the world, but does not mix with it. Between him and his fellow-men there runs ever an impassable barrier — a strong, invisible wall that, trying in vain to scale, he but bruises himself against. He sees the pleasant faces and hears the pleasant voices on the other side, but he cannot stretch his hand across to grasp another hand. He stands watching the merry groups, and he longs to speak and to claim kindred with them. But they pass him by, chatting gayly to one another, and he cannot stay them. He tries to reach them, but his prison walls move with him and hem him in on every side. In the busy street, in the crowded room, in the grind of work, in the whirl of pleasure, amid the many or amid the few — wherever men congregate together, wherever the music of human speech is heard and human thought is flashed from human eyes, there, shunned and solitary, the shy man, like a leper, stands apart. His soul is full of love and longing, but the world knows it not. The iron mask of shyness is riveted before his face, and the man beneath is never seen.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome] Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Being Shy” (1886)
(Source)
One of the hardest lessons of young Sam’s life had been finding out that the people in charge weren’t in charge. It had been finding out that governments were not, on the whole, staffed by people who had a grip, and that plans were what people made instead of thinking.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Night Watch (2002)
(Source)
When we are working at a difficult task and strive after a good thing we fight a righteous battle, the direct reward of which is that we are kept from much evil.
Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890) Dutch painter
Letter (1877-05-30), to Theo van Gogh
(Source)
Focusing your life solely on making a buck shows a certain poverty of ambition. It asks too little of yourself. You need to take up the challenges that we face as a nation and make them your own. Not because you have a debt to those who helped you get here, although you do have that debt. Not because you have an obligation to those who are less fortunate than you, although I do think you do have that obligation. It’s primarily because you have an obligation to yourself. Because individual salvation has always depended on collective salvation. Because it’s only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you realize your true potential.
Barack Obama (b. 1961) American politician, US President (2009-2017)
Speech (2005-06-04), Commencement, Knox College, Galesburg, Illinois
(Source)
No matter what cause one defends, it will suffer permanent disgrace if one resorts to blind attacks on crowds of innocent people in which the killer knows in advance that he will kill women and children.
Albert Camus (1913-1960) Algerian-French novelist, essayist, playwright Algerian Chronicles [Chroniques Algérienne], Preface (1948) [tr. Goldhammer (2013)]
(Source)
Criticizing the Front de Libération Nationalale (FLN), the movement for Algerian independence (after similarly criticizing the French government for its violent activity).
But in the days that are now passing over us, even fools are arrested to ask the meaning of them; few of the generations of men have seen more impressive days. Days of endless calamity, disruption, dislocation, confusion worse confounded: if they are not days of endless hope too, then they are days of utter despair. For it is not a small hope that will suffice, the ruin being clearly, either in action or in prospect, universal. There must be a new world, if there is to be any world at all!
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian
Essay (1850-02-01), “The Present Time,” Latter-Day Pamphlets, No. 1
(Source)
What a lamentable cuss man iz, he pittys hiz nabors misfortunes, bi calling them judgments from heaven.
[What a lamentable cuss man is: he pities his neighbors’ misfortunes, by calling them judgments from heaven.]
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. 144 “Affurisms: Gnats” (1874)
(Source)
Doubtless we’re all mistaken so — ’tis true, Each is in something a Suffenus too:
Our neighbour’s failing on his back is shown, But we don’t see the wallet on our own.
[Nimirum idem omnes fallimur, neque est quisquam
quem non in aliqua re videre Suffenum
possis. Suus cuique attributus est error,
sed non videmus manticae quod in tergo est.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 22 “To Varus,” ll. 18-21 [tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
(Source)
Discussing Suffenus, a prolific (but very mediocre) poet, who believes himself to be extremely clever and talented. The metaphor in the last few lines reference Aesop's fable of the two bags.
Yet all to such errors are prone, I believe; Each man in himself a Suffenus may find:
The failings of others we quickly perceive, But carry our own imperfection behind.
[tr. Nott (1795), # 19]
Yet we are all, I doubt, in truth Deceived like this complacent youth;
All, I am much afraid, demean us In some one thing just like Suffenus.
For still to every man that lives His share of errors Nature gives;
But they, as 'tis in fable sung, Are in a bag behind us hung;
And our formation kindly lacks The power to see behind our backs.
[tr. Lamb (1821)]
Yet, which of us is there but makes About himself as odd mistakes?
In some one thing we all demean us Not less absurdly than Suffenus;
For vice or failing, small or great, Is dealt to every man by fate.
But in a wallet at our back Do we our peccadilloes pack,
And, as we never look behind, So out of sight is out of mind.
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]
Friend, 'tis the common error; all alike are wrong,
Not one, but in some trifle you shall eye him true
Suffenus; each man bears from heaven the fault they send,
None sees within the wallet hung behind, our own.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
In sooth, we all thus err, nor man there be But in some matter a Suffenus see
Thou canst: his lache allotted none shall lack Yet spy we nothing of our back-borne pack.
[tr. Burton (1893)]
Still, we are all the same and are deceived, nor is there any man in whom you can not see a Suffenus in some one point. Each of us has his assigned delusion: but we see not what's in the wallet on our back.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
True enough, we all are under the same delusion, and there is no one whom you may not see to be a Suffenus in one thing or another. Everybody has his own fault assigned to him: but we do not see that part of the bag which hangs on our back.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
After all, every man of us is deceived in the same way, nor is there any one in whom, in some trait or another, you cannot recognize a Suffenus. Every one has his weak point, but we do not see what lies in that part of our wallet which is behind our backs.
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]
Sure, all men into some such error fall, There's a Suffenus in us one and all,
Each has his proper fault and each is blind To the wallet's other half that hangs behind.
[tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
Have we not all some faults like these? Are we not all Suffenuses?
In others the defect we find, But cannot see our sack behind.
[tr. Landor (c. 1926)]
And we (all of us) have the same rich glow, the rapture
when writing verse. And there is no one living
who cannot find within him something of Suffenus,
each his hallucination that blinds him,
nor can he nor his sharp eyes discover
the load on his own shoulders.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
Well, we all fall this way! There's not a person
whom in some matter you can fail to see
to be Suffenus. We cart round our follies,
but cannot see the bags upon our backs.
[tr. Fraser (1961)]
Conceited? Yes, but show me a man who isn't:
someone who doesn't seem like Suffenus in something.
A glaring fault? It must be somebody else's:
I carry mine in my backpack & ignore them.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
Of course we’re all deceived in the same way, and
there’s no one who can’t somehow or other be seen
as a Suffenus. Whoever it is, is subject to error:
we don’t see the pack on our own back.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Clearly we are all deceived in the same way, nor is there anyone
Whom you could see not to be Suffenus in some thing.
To each one of us one's own mistakes have been assigned;
but we do not see the knapsack which is on our back.
[tr. Drudy (1997)]
Ah well, we all make that mistake -- there's not
one of us whom you can't in some small way
see as Suffenus. Each reveals his inborn flaw --
and yet we're blind to the load on our own backs!
[tr. Green (2005)]
Evidently we all falter in the same way, and there is no one
whom you cannot see Suffenus in some fashion.
To each man is attributed his own error;
but we do not see the kind of knapsack which is on our back.
[tr. Wikibooks (2017)]
Evidently we all are deceived the same way, nor is there anyone
whom you are not able to see Suffenus in some way.
To each their own error has been assigned;
but we do not see the knapsack which is on our back.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
A musician would not willingly consent that his lyre should be out of tune, nor a leader of a chorus that his chorus should not sing in the strictest possible harmony; but shall each individual person be at variance with himself, and shall he exhibit a life not at all in agreement with his words?
Basil of Caesarea (AD 330-378) Christian bishop, theologian, monasticist, Doctor of the Church [Saint Basil the Great, Ἅγιος Βασίλειος ὁ Μέγας] Address to Young Men on Reading Greek Literature, ch. 6, sec. 4 [tr. Deferrari/McGuire (1933)]
(Source)
Children ask better questions than do adults. “May I have a cookie?” “Why is the sky blue?” and “What does a cow say?” are far more likely to elicit a cheerful response than “Where is your manuscript?” “Why haven’t you called?” and “Who’s your lawyer?”
Fran Lebowitz (b. 1950) American journalist
“Children: Pro or Con,” Metropolitan Life (1978)
(Source)
The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant, systematic duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune. Your nervous system isn’t a fiction, it’s a part of your physical body, and your soul exists in space and is inside you, like the teeth in your head. You can’t keep violating it with impunity.
Boris Pasternak (1890-1960) Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator Doctor Zhivago [До́ктор Жива́го], Part 2, ch. 15 “Conclusion,” sec. 6 [Yury] (1955) [tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant, systematic duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune. Our nervous system isn’t just a fiction, it’s a part of our physical body, and our soul exists in space and is inside us, like the teeth in our mouth. It can’t be forever violated with impunity.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]
A constant, systematic dissembling is required of the vast majority of us. It’s impossible, without its affecting your health, to show yourself day after day contrary to what you feel, to lay yourself out for what you don’t love, to rejoice over what brings you misfortune. Our nervous system is not an empty sound, not a fiction. It’s a physical body made up of fibers. Our soul takes up room in space and sits inside us like the teeth in our mouth. It cannot be endlessly violated with impunity.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]
A human being, Hastings, cannot resist the opportunity to reveal himself and express his personality which conversation gives him. Every time he will give himself away.
Agatha Christie (1890-1976) English writer The ABC Murders, ch. 21 [Poirot] (1936)
(Source)
We know that the poor are distressed by their many wants, and that nobody relieves them; but if the rich feel resentment, it is at lacking any single thing, or meeting with resistance from a single person.
[On sait que les pauvres sont chagrins de ce que tout leur manque, et que personne ne les soulage; mais s’il est vrai que les riches soient colères, c’est de ce que la moindre chose puisse leur manquer, ou que quelqu’un veuille leur résister.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 6 “Of Gifts of Fortune [Des Biens de Fortune],” § 48 (6.48) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
(Source)
The Poor are troubled that they want all things, and no body comforts them. The Rich are angry that they can want the least thing, or that any one would resist them.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]
The Poor are troubled that they want every thing, and no body comforts them. The Rich are angry that they should want the least thing, or that any one should oppose them.
[Curll ed. (1713)]
The Grief of the Poor is, that they want all Things, and no body comforts them. The Rich are angry if they want the least Thing, is any one contradict or oppose them.
[Browne ed. (1752)]
It is well known that the poor are sad because they want everything and nobody comforts them; but if it be true that the rich are irascible, it is because they may want the smallest thing, or that some one might oppose them.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
The concentration of a small child at play is analogous to the concentration of the artist of any discipline. In real play, which is real concentration, the child is not only outside time, he is outside himself. He has thrown himself completely into whatever it is that he is doing. A child playing a game, building a sand castle, painting a picture, is completely in what he is doing. His self-consciousness is gone; his consciousness is wholly focused outside himself.
Madeleine L'Engle (1918-2007) American writer A Circle of Quiet, ch. 1, sec. 3 (1972)
(Source)
On this account violence prevails amongst the French; for these laws of honour require a gentleman to avenge himself when he has been insulted; but, on the other hand, justice punishes him unmercifully when he does so. If one follows the laws of honour, one dies upon the scaffold; if one follows those of justice, one is banished for ever from the society of men: this, then, is the barbarous alternative, either to die, or to be unworthy to live.
[Ainsi les François sont dans un état bien violent : car les mêmes lois de l’honneur obligent un honnête homme de se venger quand il a été offensé ; mais, d’un autre côté, la justice le punit des plus cruelles peines lorsqu’il se venge. Si l’on suit les lois de l’honneur, on périt sur un échafaud ; si l’on suit celles de la justice, on est banni pour jamais de la société des hommes. Il n’y a donc que cette cruelle alternative, ou de mourir, ou d’être indigne de vivre.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 91, Usbek to Ibben (1721) [tr. Davidson (1891)]
(Source)
So that the French are in a state of great violence: for, on one hand, the laws of honour oblige a man to revenge himself if he is affronted; and, on the other, justice inflicts the most cruel punishments upon him for doing so. If you follow the laws of honour, you lose your head upon a scaffold; if those of justice, you are driven out for ever from the society of men; so that you have only the unhappy choice either of dying, or being unworthy to live.
[tr. Ozell (1760 ed.)]
So that the French are in a great state of violence: for these laws of honour oblige a well bred man to revenge himself when he hath been affronted; but, on the other hand, justice punishes him with the severest penalties when he hath done so. If men follow the laws of honour, they die upon a scaffold \; if those of justice, they are banished for ever from the society of men: there is then only this cruel alternative, either to die, or to be unworthy to live.
[tr. Floyd (1762), # 90]
Accordingly, the French are in a very perturbed condition; for the laws of honor compel a gentleman to avenge himself when he has been insulted; and, on the other hand, justice punishes him with the severest penalties when he has avenged himself. If a man obey the laws of honor, he dies on the scaffold; if he obey the laws of justice, he is forever shunned by his fellow-men; this, then, is the cruel alternative, either to die, or to be unworthy to live.
[tr. Betts (1897)]
And so the French remain in a state of violence, for the laws of honor require a gentleman to avenge himself if insulted; but justice, on the other hand, punishes him cruelly for his vengeance. If you follow the laws of honor, you perish on the scaffold; but to follow the laws of justice means perpetual banishment from the society of men. There is, then, only this harsh alternative: to die or to be unworthy of life.
[tr. Healy (1964)]
So the French find themselves in a most dire situation: for those same laws of honour oblige a gentleman to avenge himself if he has been offended, but, on the other hand, the offices of justice punish him in the harshest manner when he does take his revenge. If he obeys the laws of honour, he dies upon the scaffold; if he obeys the laws of the land, he is banished for ever from the society of men. All he can do, then, is choose between these cruel alternatives: to die, or to be unworthy of living.
[tr. Mauldon (2008), # 88]
Like language, a code of manners can be used with more or less skill, for laudable or for evil purposes, to express a great variety of ideas and emotions. In itself, it carries no moral value, but ignorance in use of this tool is not a sign of virtue.
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners] Common Courtesy, “Of Etiquette as Language, Weapon, Custom, and Craft” (1985)
(Source)
No one is more susceptible to an experts fearmongering than a parent. Fear is in fact a major component of the act of parenting. A parent, after all, is the steward of another creature’s life, a creature who in the beginning is more helpless than the newborn of nearly any other species. This leads a lot of parents to spend a lot of their parenting energy simply being scared.
Steven Levitt (b. 1967) American economist and author Freakonomics, ch. 5 “What Makes A Perfect Parent?” (2005) [with Stephen Dubner]
(Source)
And in truth, of course, I’m not just 60 — I’m twelve, I’m 23, I’m 37, I’m 42, I’m 18. I’m every age I’ve ever been. Depending on what day of the week it is and what the situation calls for at the moment.
[Und in Wahrheit bin ich natürlich nicht nur 60 – ich bin zwölf, ich bin 23, ich bin 37, ich bin 42, ich bin 18. Ich habe jedes Alter, das ich je gehabt habe. Je nachdem, welcher Wochentag ist und was die Situation gerade erfordert.]
William Martin "Billy" Joel (b. 1949) American singer, songwriter, pianist
“Ohne die Nazis hätte es Billy Joel nie gegeben,” Die Welt (2009-05-10)
This interview is published in German, but in it Joel comments he only knows a bit of the language (his father was a Jewish refugee from Germany before WW2), so it was likely conducted in English. The German version is from the article. The English version is from Wikiquote (source unknown), which titles the article "Without the Nazis, there wouldn't have been Billy Joel."
Within that heav’n which most receives His light Was I, and saw such things as man nor knows Nor skills to tell, returning from that height;
For when our intellect is drawing close To its desire, its paths are so profound That memory cannot follow where it goes.
Yet now, of that blest realm, whate’er is found Here in my mind still treasured and possessed Must set the strain for all my song to sound.
[Nel ciel che più de la sua luce prende fu’ io, e vidi cose che ridire né sa né può chi di là sù discende;
perché appressando sé al suo disire, nostro intelletto si profonda tanto, che dietro la memoria non può ire.
Veramente quant’io del regno santo ne la mia mente potei far tesoro, sarà ora materia del mio canto.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 1, l. 4ff (1.4-12) (1320) [tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
(Source)
Dante breaks the fourth wall again, to apologize for how little he can remember of the ineffable glories of Heaven (which works out to an entire book's worth).
In daring drains
I sing, admitted to the lofty fanes, Fill'd with the Glory of th' Eternal One.
There saw I things beyond Creation's bourne.
Which none who from her flaming bounds return Can tell, when soaring Thought is launch'd so far
In Being's vast Abyss, that Mem'ry fails.
Nor dares pursue, altho' with crowded sails She tries the Voyage o'er th' eternal Bar.
But some small remnant of that heav'nly Spoil,
From that strange Voyage won with arduous toil, To her dear native soil, the Muse shall bear.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-3]
In heav’n, That largeliest of his light partakes, was I, Witness of things, which to relate again
Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence; For that, so near approaching its desire Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d,
That memory cannot follow. Nathless all, That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm Could store, shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
In heaven, that drinks the deepest of the light, Was I, and saw what to recount to sense He knows not how, nor can, who comes from thence;
Because, approaching nearer its desire, Dives intellect to such a depth profound That memory fails, and cannot go beyond
In truth of that dominion's power, whate'er I can find room to treasure in my mind, Be now the subject in my song enshrined.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;
Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go.
Truly whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my mind Shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
In the heaven which receives most of His light was I, and I beheld things which whoso descends thence has neither knowledge nor power to tell again, seeing that as it draws near to its desire our understanding plunges so deep, that the memory cannot go after it. Howbeit, so much of the holy realm as I could treasure up within my mind shall now be matter for my lay.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
In the sky which most partaketh of his light Was I, and things I saw, which to repeat Knows not, and cannot whoe'er leaves that height.
Because approaching to its yearned-for seat The intellect deep diveth there so long That memory behind it cannot fleet.
Of what to the holy kingdom doth belong Which I had power to treasure in my mind, Truly shall now be subject of my song.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
In the heaven that receives most of its light I have been, and have seen things which he who descends from thereabove neither knows how nor is able to recount; because, drawing near to its own desire, our understanding enters so deep, that the memory cannot follow. Truly whatever of the Holy Realm I could treasure up in my mind shall now be the theme of my song.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
In that heaven which most receiveth of his light, have I been ; and have seen things which whoso descendeth from up there hath nor knowledge nor power to re-tell; because, as it draweth nigh to its desire, our intellect sinketh so deep, that memory cannot go back upon the track. Nathless, whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my memory, shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]
I was in the heaven that most receives His light and I saw things which he that descends from it has not the knowledge or the power to tell again; for our intellect, drawing near to its desire, sinks so deep that memory cannot follow it. Nevertheless, so much of the holy kingdom as I was able to treasure in my mind shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
In that heaven which partakes most of His light I have been, and have beheld such things as who Comes down thence has no wit nor power to write;
Such depth our understanding deepens to When it draws near unto its longing's home That memory cannot backward with it go.
Nevertheless what of the blest kingdom Could in my memory, for its treasure, stray Shall now the matter of my song become.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
I have been in that Heaven of His most light, and what I saw, those who descend from there lack both the knowledge and the power to write.
For as our intellect draws near its goal it opens to such depths of understanding as memory cannot plumb within the soul.
Nevertheless, whatever portion time still leaves me of the treasure of that kingdom shall now become the subject of my rhyme.
[tr. Ciardi (1970)]
I have been in the heaven that most receives of his light, and have seen things which whoso descends from up there has niehter the knowledge nor the power to relate, because, as draws near to its desire, our intellect enters so deep that memory cannot go back upon the track. Nevertheless, so much of the holy kingdom as I could treasure up in my mind shall now be the matter of my song.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]
I have been in the heaven which takes most of his light, And I have seen things which cannot be told, Possibly, by anyone who comes down from up there;
Because, approaching the object of its desires, Our intellect is so deeply absorbed That memory cannot follow it all the way.
Nevertheless, what I was able to store up Of that holy kingdom, in my mind, Will now be the matter of my poem.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
I was within the heaven that receives more of His light; and I saw things that he who from that height descends, forgets or can
not speak; for nearing its desired end, our intellect sinks into an abyss so deep that memory fails to follow it.
Nevertheless, as much as I, within my mind, could treasure of the holy kingdom shall now become the matter of my song.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]
I have been in His brightest shining heaven and seen such things that no man, once returned from there, has wit or skill to tell about;
for when our intellect draws near its goal and fathoms to the depths of its desire, the memory is powerless to follow;
but still, as much of Heaven’s holy realm as I could store and treasure in my mind shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Musa (1984)]
In the heaven that receives most of his light have I been, and I have seen things that one who comes down from there cannot remember and cannot utter, for as it draws near to its desire, our intellect goes so deep that the memory cannot follow it. Nevertheless, as much of the holy kingdom as I was able to treasure up in my mind will now become the matter of my song.
[tr. Durling (2011)]
I have been in that Heaven that knows his light most, and have seen things, which whoever descends from there has neither power, nor knowledge, to relate: because as our intellect draws near to its desire, it reaches such depths that memory cannot go back along the track. Nevertheless, whatever, of the sacred regions, I had power to treasure in my mind, will now be the subject of my labour.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
High in that sphere which takes from Him most light I was -- I was! -- and saw things there that no one who descends knows how or ever can repeat.
For, drawing near to what it most desires, our intellect so sinks into the deep no memory can follow it that far.
As much, though, truly of that holy realm as I could keep as treasure in my mind will now become the substance of my song.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
I was in that heaven which receives more of His light. He who comes down from there can neither know nor tell what he has seen,
for, drawing near to its desire, so deeply is our intellect immersed that memory cannot follow after it.
Nevertheless, as much of the holy kingdom as I could store as treasure in my mind shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And though I saw where most of His brightness falls, What I have seen cannot be represented Here, for those who have entered Heaven, and descended,
Have come so close to what our minds desire They sink far in, and bury their knowledge, their power, So deep that memory cannot recover
A thing. But I will try, truly, to present Whatever remains in my mind of that holy kingdom And make it the substance of this song I will sing.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
I was in the heaven that gets more of its rays And saw things that those who come down From on high can’t grasp or else can’t say,
Because nearing what one wants, Our intellect is so overcome That our memory is left behind.
Even so, as much of the Holy Kingdom As my mind could hold on to Will now be the subject of my song.
[tr. Bang (2021)]
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris;
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write How roses first came red and lilies white;
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King;
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall) Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.
Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“The Argument of His Book,” Hesperides, # 1 (1648)
(Source)
Horace (65-8 BC) Roman poet and satirist [Quintus Horacius Flaccus] Odes [Carmina], Book 1, # 4, l. 13ff (1.4.13-14) (23 BC) [tr. Alexander (1999), “To Lucius Sestius”]
(Source)
Death knocks as boldly at the Rich mans dore
As at the Cottage of the Poore,
[tr. Fanshaw (1666), "To L. Sextius, a Consular Man"]
With equal foot, Rich friend, impartial Fate
Knocks at the Cottage, and the Palace Gate.
[tr. Creech (1684), "He adviseth his Friend to live merrily"]
Pale Death, impartial, walks his round: he knocks at cottage-gate
And palace-portal.
[tr. Conington (1872)]
Pale death knocks at the cottages of the poor, and the palaces of kings, with an impartial foot.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853), "To Sextius"]
Death comes alike to all, — to the monarch's lordly hall,
Or the hovel of the beggar, and his summons none shall stay.
[tr. Martin (1864), "To Sestius"]
But all the while, with equal step, pale Death strides on unpausing,
Knocks at thé lowly shed and regal tower.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870), "To Lucius Sestius"]
Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings.
[E.g. (1893)]
The kingly tower alike
And pauper's hut pale Death will strike.
[tr. Gladstone (1894), "To the Rich Sextius"]
Pale Death with foot impartial knocks at poor men's dwellings.
And tow'rs of monarchs.
[tr. Phelps (1897), "To Sestius"]
Pale death with foot impartial strikes at the huts of paupers and
Kings' towers.
[tr. Garnsey (1907), "To Sestius"]
With equal foot pale Pluto knocks at hovels of the poor,
And at the tyrant's towers
[tr. Marshall (1908), "Spring"]
Pale Death with foot impartial knocks at the poor man’s cottage and at princes’ palaces.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912), "Spring's Lesson"]
Marching with step impartial, Death's pale Presence raps its call
At doors of rich and poor alike.
[tr. Mills (1924)]
Hold! Pale Death, at the poor man's shack and the pasha's palace kicking
Impartially, announces his arrival.
[tr. Michie (1964)]
Death raps his bony knuckles, bleached,
Indifferent, on any man’s door, a palace or a hut.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]
Revenant white-faced Death is walking not knowing whether
He's going to knock at a rich man's door or a poor man's.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]
Pale death knocks with impartial foot, at the door of the poor man’s cottage,
and at the prince’s gate.
[tr. Kline (2015), "Spring"]
Men can be unjust, because it is in their interest to act so, and they prefer their own satisfaction to that of others. They always act with themselves in mind. No one is gratuitously wicked; there must be a determining cause, and it is always one of self-interest.
[Les hommes peuvent faire des injustices, parce qu’ils ont intérêt de les commettre et qu’ils préfèrent leur propre satisfaction à celle des autres. C’est toujours par un retour sur eux-mêmes qu’ils agissent: nul n’est mauvais gratuitement; il faut qu’il y ait une raison qui détermine, et cette raison est toujours une raison d’intérêt.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 84, Usbek to Rhédi (1721) [tr. Healy (1964), # 83]
Montesquieu's argues that an omnipotent God must be just, because God has no interest that cannot be satisfied through injustice.
Men may commit injustice, because it is in their interest to do it, and they chuse rather to satisfy themselves and others. It is always with an eye to themselves that they act: no body is wicked gratis: he will have some reason to sway him; and that reason is always a reason of interest.
[tr. Ozell (1760 ed.)]
Men may do injustice, because it is in their interest to commit it, and because they prefer their own private satisfaction to that of others. It is always with a view to themselves that they act: nobody is wicked for nothing: he must have some reason that determines himl and this reason is always a reason of interest.
[tr. Floyd (1762), # 83]
Men act unjustly, because it is their interest to do so, and because they prefer their own satisfaction to that of others. They act always to secure some advantage to themselves: no one is a villain gratis; there is always a determining motive, and that motive is always an interested one.
[tr. Davidson (1891)]
Men act unjustly, because it is their interest to do so, and they prefer their own satisfaction to that of others. In acting they always have in view the effect their action will have on themselves: no one is bad for nothing; every one must have a determining motive, and that motive is self-interest.
[tr. Betts (1897)]
Men can commit injustices, because it is in their interest to do so, and they would rather satisfy themselves than others. It is always through thinking of themselves that they act unjustly; no one is gratuitously bad, there must be a reason which determines the act, and that reason is invariably one of self-interest.
[tr. Mauldon (2008)]
Men are capable of injustice, because their self-interest leads them toward it, and because they prefer their own satisfaction to that of others. Everything always revolves around themselves. No evil is ever done gratuitously, for there is always a reason behind it, and that reason is always one of self-interest.
[tr. MacKenzie (2014), # 83]
What I have come to recognize is that just as “the black problem” turned out to be a problem of white racism, just as “the woman problem” turned out to be a problem of male sexism, so “the homosexual problem” is really the homophobia of many heterosexuals.
William Sloane Coffin, Jr. (1924-2006) American minister, social activist The Courage to Love, ch. 5 (1982)
(Source)
Nor need we be surprised that men so often embrace almost any doctrines, if they are proclaimed with a voice of absolute assurance. In a universe that we do not understand, but with which we must in one way or another somehow manage to deal; and aware of the conflicting desires that clamorously beset us, between which we must choose, and which we must therefore manage to weigh, we turn in our bewilderment to those who tell us that they have found a path out of the thickets and possess the scales by which to appraise our needs. Over and over again such prophets succeed in converting us to unquestioning acceptance; there is scarcely a monstrous belief that has not had its day and its passionate adherents, so eager are we for safe footholds in our dubious course.
Learned Hand (1872-1961) American jurist
Speech (1955-01-29), “A Fanfare for Prometheus,” American Jewish Committee annual dinner, New York City
(Source)
No speed of wind or water rushing by
But you have a speed far greater. You can climb
Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
And back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness, not for haste
Nor chiefly that you may go where you will.
But in the rush of everything to waste,
That you may have the power of standing still—
Off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with a master speed
Cannot be parted nor be swept away
From one another once you are agreed
That life is only life forevermore
Together wing to wing and oar to oar.
Robert Frost (1874-1963) American poet
“The Master Speed” (1934)
(Source)
Collected in A Further Range (1937). Frost wrote the poem for his daughter's wedding, and the final line is the epitaph on his wife's portion of their gravestone.
There was a moment’s silence while everybody thought. “I’ve got a sort of idea,” said Pooh at last, “but I don’t suppose it’s a very good one.” “I don’t suppose it is either,” said Eeyore.
A. A. Milne (1882-1956) English poet and playwright [Alan Alexander Milne] House at Pooh Corner, ch. 6 “Eeyore Joins the Game” (1928)
(Source)
“If it had grown up,” she said to herself, “it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.” And she began thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as pigs.
Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) English writer and mathematician [pseud. of Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, ch. 6 “Pig and Pepper” [Alice] (1865)
(Source)
Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear. Thus a feeling of utter unworthiness can be a source of courage.
Eric Hoffer (1902-1983) American writer, philosopher, longshoreman The Passionate State of Mind, Aphorism 87 (1955)
(Source)
The natural approach to human relations presumes that to know any person well enough is to love him, and that, therefore, the only human problem is a communication problem. It refuses to admit the possibility that people might be separated by basic, deeply held, genuinely irreconcilable differences — philosophical, political, or religious. Thus, the effort to trivialize etiquette as being a barrier to the happy mingling of souls, actually trivializes intellectual, emotional, and spiritual convictions by characterizing any difference between one person’s and another’s as no more than a simple misunderstanding, easily solved by frank exchanges or orchestrated “encounters.”
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners] Common Courtesy, “In the Quest for Equality, Civilization Itself Is Maligned” (1985)
(Source)
To be enlightened: a big phrase! Certain men think themselves enlightened because they are decided: thus taking conviction for truth, and strong conception for intelligence. There are others who, because they know all the words, think they know all the truths.
[Être éclairé, c’est un grand mot! Il y a certains hommes qui se croient éclairés, parce qu’ils sont décidés, prenant ainsi la conviction pour la vérité, et la forte conception pour l’intelligence. Il en est d’autres qui, parce qu’ils savent tous les mots, croient savoir toutes les vérités.]
Joseph Joubert (1754-1824) French moralist, philosopher, essayist, poet Pensées [Thoughts], ch. 4 “De la Nature des Esprits [On the Nature of Minds],” ¶ 36 (1850 ed.) [tr. Calvert (1866), ch. 5]
(Source)
Enlightenment -- a great word! Some men think themselves enlightened, because they are decided, taking conviction for truth, and strong conception for intelligence. Others, because they know all that can be said think that they know all truth.
[tr. Lyttelton (1899), ch. 3, ¶ 15]
Enlightenment is a fine word! Some men fancy themselves enlightened because they are decisive, thus taking conviction for truth, and force of conception for intelligence. Others think that because they have every word at their command, they have every truth also.
[tr. Collins (1928), ch. 4]
Because they know all the words, they think they know all the truths.
[tr. Auster (1983)], 1819 entry]
You see my kind of loyalty was loyalty to one’s country, not to its institutions or its office-holders. The country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over, and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing, and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease, and death.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens] A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, ch. 13 “Freemen!” (1889)
(Source)
‘Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
In the view of reality, not of illusion,
We mortals are chess-men and fate is the player; We each act our game on the board of life,
And then one by one are swept into the box!
[tr. Cowell (1858), # 27]
Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays;
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 74, and 3rd ed. (1872) # 69]
But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
[tr. FitzGerald, 4th ed. (1879), # 49, and 5th ed. (1889), # 49]
Here, below, we are naught but puppets tor the diversion of the wheel of the heavens. This is indeed a truth, and no simile. We truly are but pieces on this chessboard of humanity, which in the end we leave, only to enter, one by one, into the grave of nothingness.
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 61]
We are but chessmen, who to move are fain,
Just as the great Chessplayer doth ordain. It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro,
And then in death's box shuts us up again.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 148]
We are but chessmen, destined, it is plain,
That great chess player, Heaven, to entertain; It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro,
And then in death's box shuts up again.
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 270]
We are all Puppets of the Sky, we run
As wills the Player till the Game is done, And when The Player wearies of the Sport,
He throws us into Darkness One by One.
[tr. Garner (1887), 4.2]
But puppets are we in Fate's puppet-show --
No figure of speech is this, but in truth 't is so! On the draughtboard of Life we are shuffled to and fro,
Then one by one to the box of Nothing go!
[tr. M. K. (1888)]
HERE, BELOW, WE ARE NAUGHT BUT
PUPPETS FOR THE DIVERSION OF THE
WHEEL OF THE HEAVENS. THIS IS
INDEED A TRUTH, AND NO SIMILE.
WE TRULY ARE BUT PIECES ON
THIS CHESSBOARD OF HUMANITY,
WHICH IN THE END WE LEAVE, ONLY
TO ENTER, ONE BY ONE, INTO THE
GRAVE OF NOTHINGNESS.
[tr. McCarthy (1889)]
Upon this checkerboard of joys and woes
The wretched puppet hither and thither goes, Until the mighty Player of the skies
His plaything back in the casket throws.
[tr. Garner (1898), # 82]
We're the pieces Heaven moves on the chessboard of space
(No metaphor this, but the truth of the case); Each awhile on Life's board plays his game and returns
In the box of nonentity back to his place.
[tr. Payne (1898), # 480]
To speak plain language, and not in parables,
we are the pieces and heaven plays the game, we are played together in a baby-game upon the chessboard of existence,
and one by one we return to the box of non-existence.
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 94]
'Tis not a fancy of disordered brains But certain truth, that on life's checkered square
We men are puppets, whose steps God ordains; The time is short in which we dally there,
Then in death's casket one by one we fall, The game is played and earth must cover all.
[tr. Cadell (1899), # 108]
Like helpless chessmen on the checkered blocks,
We 're hither, thither moved, till Heaven knocks The luckless pieces from the crowded board,
And one by one returns them to the box.
[tr. Roe (1906), # 53]
In truth and not by way of simile.
Heaven plays the game and its mere puppets we; In sport moved on Life's chess-board, one by one
We reach the chess-box of Nonentity!
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 317]
To speak plain language, parable to shame,
We are the pieces, Heaven plays the game: A childish game upon the board of Life,
Then back into the Box from whence we came.
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 94]
To speak the truth and not as a metaphor, we are
the pieces of the game and Heaven the player. We play a little game on the chessboard of existence.
Then we go back to the box of non-existence, one by one.
[tr. Christensen (1927), # 6]
This is not an allegory, it is reality:
We are the figures and the Sphere is the player. We act a play on the boards of existence
And we go back into the box of non-existence one by one.
[tr. Rosen (1928), # 168]
We puppets dance to tunes of Time we know,
We are puppets in fact, and not for show; Existence is the carpet where we dance,
So one by one where aught is naught we go.
[tr. Tirtha (1941), # 2.6]
Let me speak out, unallegorically:
We are mere puppets of our Master, toys. On the Table of Existence, one by one.
Flung back in the toy box of Non-existence.
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967), # 73]
We are but chessmen in God’s scheme of things:
The most are merely pawns, a few are kings; And when our unimportant game is done
Back in the box we tumble one by one.
[tr. Bowen (1976), # 44]
We are the puppets and fate the puppeteer
This is not a metaphor, but a truth sincere On this stage, fate for sometime our moves steer
Into the chest of non-existence, one by one disappear.
[tr. Shahriari (1998), literal]
The hands of fate play our game
We the players are given a name Some are tame, others gain fame
Yet in the end, we’re all the same.
[tr. Shahriari (1998), figurative]
There is something laughable about the sight of authors who enjoy the rustling folds of long and involved sentences: they are trying to cover up their feet.
[Man hat Etwas zum Lachen, diese Schriftsteller zu sehen, welche die faltigen Gewänder der Periode um sich rauschen machen: sie wollen so ihre Füsse verdecken.]
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) German philosopher and poet The Gay Science [Die fröhliche Wissenschaft], Book 4, § 282 (1882) [tr. Kaufmann (1974)]
(Source)
Also known as La Gaya Scienza, The Joyful Wisdom, or The Joyous Science.
It is something laughable to see those writers who make the folding robes of their periods rustle around them: they want to cover their feet.
[tr. Common (1911)]
There is something laughable about those writers who make the folded drapery of their period rustle around them; they want to hide their feet.
[tr. Hill (2018)]
For, does the reader inquire into the subject-matter of controversy in this case; what the difference between Orthodoxy or My-doxy and Heterodoxy or Thy-doxy might here be?
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian The French Revolution: A History, Part 2, Book 4, ch. 2 (2.4.2) (1837)
(Source)
Writing of the 1791 excommunication of Talleyrand, conflicts between Rome and Paris on bishoprics and loyalty oaths, and burnings of both effigies and heretics.
I am old now, or at least, I am no longer young, and everything I see reminds me of something else I’ve seen, such that I see nothing for the first time. A bonny girl, her hair fiery red, reminds me only of another hundred such lasses, and their mothers, and what they were as they grew, and what they looked like when they died. It is the curse of age, that all things are reflections of other things.
Neil Gaiman (b. 1960) British author, screenwriter, fabulist
“The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains …”, Trigger Warning (2015)
(Source)
Many people believe that possession of unchallenged economic power deadens initiative, discourages thrift and depresses energy; that immunity from competition is a narcotic, and rivalry is a stimulant, to industrial progress; that the spur of constant stress is necessary to counteract an inevitable disposition to let well enough alone. Such people believe that competitors, versed in the craft as no consumer can be, will be quick to detect opportunities for saving and new shifts in production, and be eager to profit by them. […] True, it might have been thought adequate to condemn only those monopolies which could not show that they had exercised the highest possible ingenuity, had adopted every possible economy, had anticipated every conceivable improvement, stimulated every possible demand. No doubt, that would be one way of dealing with the matter, although it would imply constant scrutiny and constant supervision, such as courts are unable to provide. Be that as it may, that was not the way that Congress chose; it did not condone “good trusts” and condemn “bad” ones; it forbad all.
Learned Hand (1872-1961) American jurist United States v. Aluminum Co. of America, 148 F.2d 416, 427 (1945)
(Source)
However, the divisions of the sciences which we employ include not only things which have been noticed and discovered but also things that until now have been missed but should be there. For in the intellectual as in the physical world, there are deserts as well as cultivated places.
[Partitiones tamen Scientiarum adhibemus eas, quae non tantum jam inventa et nota, sed hactenus omissa et debita, complectantur. Etenim inveniuntur in globo intellectuali, quemadmodum in terrestri, et culta pariter et deserta.]
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) English philosopher, scientist, author, statesman Instauratio Magna [The Great Instauration], “Distributo Operis [Plan of the Work]” (1620) [tr. Silverthorne (2000)]
(Source)
But we also employ such a division of the sciences as will not only embrace what is already discovered and known, but what has hitherto been omitted and deficient. For there are both cultivated and desert tracts in the intellectual as in the terrestrial globe.
[tr. Wood (1831)]
In classing the sciences, we comprehend not only the things already invented and known, but also those omitted and wanted; for the intellectual globe, as well as the terrestrial, has both its frosts and deserts.
[tr. Wood/Devey (1844)]
In laying out the divisions of the sciences however, I take into account not only things already invented and known, but likewise things omitted which ought to be there. For there are found in the intellectual as in the terrestrial globe waste regions as well as cultivated ones.
[tr. Spedding (1858)]
At every party there are two kinds of people — those who want to go home and those who don’t. The trouble is, they are usually married to each other.
Ann Landers (1918-2002) American advice columnist [pseud. for Eppie Lederer]
“Ask Ann Landers,” syndicated column (1991-06-19)
(Source)
Where a source for this is cited, it is at the above date and in International Herald Tribune, presumably as part of her syndicated column. The quotation is included in a rotating sidebar element at Landers' website, but cannot be found in search on the site.
Models of manly beauty are rare out of novels, and seldom interesting in them.
F. Anstey (1856-1934) English novelist and journalist (pseud. of Thomas Anstey Guthrie) The Brass Bottle, ch. 1 “Horace Ventimore Receives a Commission” (1900)
(Source)
People will tell us that without the consolations of religion they would be intolerably unhappy. So far as this is true, it is a coward’s argument. Nobody but a coward would consciously choose to live in a fool’s paradise. When a man suspects his wife of infidelity, he is not thought the better of for shutting his eyes to the evidence. And I cannot see why ignoring evidence should be contemptible in one case and admirable in the other.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
“Is There a God?” (1952)
(Source)
Essay commissioned by Illustrated magazine in 1952, but never published there. First publication in Russell, Last Philosophical Testament, 1943-68 (1997) [ed. Slater/Köllner].
My days of love are over; me no more The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow,
Can make the fool of which they made before, — In short, I must not lead the life I did do;
The credulous hope of mutual minds is o’er, The copious use of claret is forbid too,
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 216 (1818)
(Source)
That’s metaphysics, my dear fellow. It’s forbidden by my doctors, my stomach won’t take it.
Boris Pasternak (1890-1960) Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator Doctor Zhivago [До́ктор Жива́го], Part 1, ch. 1 “The Five O’Clock Express,” sec. 5 [Ivan Ivanovich] (1955) [tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]
(Source)
After a long argument by Voskoboinikov to avowed atheist Ivanovich as to the necessity of Christianity and the Gospels.
Alternate translations:
That’s metaphysics, my dear fellow. It's forbidden me by my doctors, my stomach won’t take it.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]
Metaphysics, old boy. It's forbidden me by my doctors; my stomach can't digest it.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]
Nothing more clearly shows how little God esteems his gift to men of wealth, money, position and other worldly goods, than the way he distributes these, and the sort of men who are most amply provided with them.
[Rien ne fait mieux comprendre le peu de chose que Dieu croit donner aux hommes, en leur abandonnant les richesses, l’argent, les grands établissements et les autres biens, que la dispensation qu’il en fait, et le genre d’hommes qui en sont le mieux pourvus.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 6 “Of Gifts of Fortune [Des Biens de Fortune],” § 24 (6.24) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
(Source)
Nothing makes us better comprehend what little things God thinks he bestows on Mankind, when he suffers 'em to abound in Riches, Gold, Settlements, Stations, and other advantages, than the dispensations he makes of them, and the sort of men who are best provided.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]
Nothing makes us better comprehend what little things God thinks he bestows on Mankind, in suffering 'em to abound in Riches, Mony, great Preferments, and other Advantages, than the Distribution he makes of 'em, and the sort of Men who are best provided.
[Curll ed. (1713)]
Nothing makes us better understand what trifling things Providence thinks He bestows on men in granting them wealth, money, dignities, and other advantages, than the manner in which they are distributed and the kind of men who have the largest share.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
Designing a dream city is easy; rebuilding a living one takes imagination.
Jane Jacobs (1916-2006) American-Canadian journalist, author, urban theorist, activist
“Downtown Is for People,” Fortune (1958-04)
(Source)
Closing words of the essay.
Originally reprinted in the magazine's topical collection, The Exploding Metropolis (1958). Later collected in Samuel Zipp and Nathan Storring, eds., Vital Little Plans: The Short Works of Jane Jacobs (2016).
Contented, unambitious people are all very well in their way. They form a neat, useful background for great portraits to be painted against, and they make a respectable, if not particularly intelligent, audience for the active spirits of the age to play before.
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)
FRIAR: For it so falls out
That what we have we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost,
Why then we rack the value, then we find
The virtue that possession would not show us
Whiles it was ours.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet Much Ado About Nothing, Act 4, sc. 1, l. 228ff (4.1.228-233) (1598)
(Source)
Life was given me as a favour; I may consequently give it back, when it is no longer so.
[La vie m’a été donnée comme une faveur ; je puis donc la rendre lorsqu’elle ne l’est plus.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 76, Usbek to Ibben (1721) [tr. Ozell (1760 ed.), No. 77]
(Source)
Duty is weightier than a mountain, while death is lighter than a feather.
Meiji (1852-1912) Emperor of Japan (1867-1912) [明治天皇, Meiji-tennō; b. Mutsuhito (睦仁)]
“Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors [軍人勅諭, Gunjin Chokuyu]” (1882-01-04)
(Source)
The Rescript was the official code of ethics for military personnel, foundational to the Imperial Japanese armed forces and much of Japanese society. Officially issued by the Emperor Meiji, but actually written by oligarchs Inoue Kowashi and Yamagata Aritomo with editing by journalist Fukuchi Gen'ichiro.
The charge is often made against etiquette that it is artificial. Yes, indeed, it is. Civilization is artificial. When people extoll the virtues of naturalness, honesty, informality, intimacy, and creativity — watch out. Honesty has come to mean the privilege of insulting you to your face without expecting redress, and creativity that it is wrong to interfere with a child who is destroying your possessions. It is apparently natural behavior to treat the sick, the disabled, and the bereaved with curiosity and distaste, but it is also highly uncivilized.
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners] Common Courtesy, “In the Quest for Equality, Civilization Itself Is Maligned” (1985)
(Source)
Primitiveness and civilization are degrees of the same thing. If civilization has an opposite, it is war. Of these two things, you have either one, or the other. Not both.
Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018) American writer The Left Hand of Darkness, ch. 8 (1969)
(Source)
The glory of the One Who moves all things shines through the universe and is reflected by all things in proportion to their merit.
[La gloria di colui che tutto move per l’universo penetra, e risplende in una parte più e meno altrove.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 1, l. 1ff (1.1-3) (1320) [tr. Musa (1984)
(Source)
God as the "unmoved mover" derives from Aristotle (Metaphysics 12.7), frequently referenced in medieval Scholastic writings.
Musa provides this variant translation as "a more interpretive rendering" in his notes (and a rendering similar to Ciardi's). His more literal translation, which he uses in the main text, is given below.
His Glory, who, with solitary hand,
Launches thro' boundless space the stellar Band, And shines effulgent, or involves his Throne In darkness, as he wills ....
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1]
His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d, Pierces the universe, and in one part Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
The glory of Him who moveth all things Pierceth the universe, and shines so fair, More at one part, and less, perchance, elsewhere.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
The glory of Him who moveth everything Doth penetrate the universe, and shine In one part more and in another less.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
The glory of Him who moves all things penetrates through the universe, and shines forth in one quarter more, and less in another.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
His glory who moves all doth penetrate Throughout the universe, and shineth bright Here with a greater, there with lesser state.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
The glory of Him who moves everything penetrates through the universe, and shines in one part more and in another less.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
The All-mover's glory penetrates through the universe, and regloweth in one region more, and less in another.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]
The glory of Him who moves all things penetrates the universe and shines in one part more and in another less.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
The glory of Him who moveth all that is Pervades the universe, and glows more bright In the one region, and in another less.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
The glory of Him who moves all things soe’er Impenetrates the universe, and bright The splendour burns, more here and lesser there.
[tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
The glory of Him who moves all things rays forth through all the universe, and is reflected from each thing in proportion to its worth.
[tr. Ciardi (1970)]
The glory of the All-Mover penetrates through the universe and reglows in one part more, and in another less.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]
The glory of him who moves everything Penetrates the universe and shines In one part more and, in another, less.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
the glory of the One who moves all things permeates the universe and glows in one part more and in another less.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]
The glory of the One Who moves all things penetrates all the universe and shines in one part more and in another less.
[tr. Musa (1984)]
The glory of Him who moves all things penetrates through the universe and shines forth in one place more and less elsewhere
[tr. Durling (2011)]
The glory of Him, who moves all things, penetrates the universe, and glows in one region more, in another less.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Glory, from Him who moves all things that are, penetrates the universe and then shines back, reflected more in one part, less elsewhere.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
The glory of Him who moves all things pervades the universe and shines in one part more and in another less.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
The Glory of He who made and moves it all Penetrates the entire universe Glowing in one part more, in another less.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
The glory of the Animator of Everything Pervades the universe and shines more In one area and less somewhere else.
[tr. Bang (2021)]
What we do is never understood but always only praised or censured.
[Was wir thun, wird nie verstanden, sondern immer nur gelobt und getadelt.]
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) German philosopher and poet The Gay Science [Die fröhliche Wissenschaft], Book 3, § 264 (1882) [tr. Kaufmann (1974)]
(Source)
Also known as La Gaya Scienza, The Joyful Wisdom, or The Joyous Science.
LAZARUS: You’re so sentimental, Doctor. Maybe you are older than you look.
THE DOCTOR: I’m old enough to know that a longer life isn’t always a better one. In the end, you just get tired; tired of the struggle, tired of losing everyone that matters to you, tired of watching everything you love turn to dust. If you live long enough, Lazarus, the only certainty left is that you’ll end up alone.
LAZARUS: That’s a price worth paying.
THE DOCTOR: Is it?
Stephen Greenhorn (b. 1964) Scottish playwright and screenwriter Doctor Who, (2005) 03×06 “The Lazarus Experiment” (2007-05-05)
(Source)
Life is a flame that is always burning itself out; but it catches fire again every time a child is born.
George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) British playwright and critic
“The Adventures of the Black Girl in Her Search for God,” Short Stories, Scraps, and Shavings (1932)
(Source)
He that has a secret should not only hide it, but hide that he has it to hide.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian The French Revolution: A History, Part 2, Book 1, ch. 7 (2.1.7) (1837)
(Source)
Carlyle puts this in quotes, but he is again apparently quoting himself. He later used the phrase in his history of Friedrich II of Prussia (Frederick the Great).
What a contrast to this civil war in our midst! Here, set deep inside the country, are conspiracy, danger and a deadly foe. Degeneracy, madness and evil are the enemies we have to fight.
[Domesticum bellum manet, intus insidiae sunt, intus inclusum periculum est, intus est hostis. cum luxuria nobis, cum amentia, cum scelere certandum est.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher Orationes in Catilinam [Catilinarian Orations], No. 2, ch. 5 / § 11 (2.5.11) (63-11-09 BC) [tr. Grant (1960)]
(Source)
The Plot is within; the danger locked within; the Enemy is within: We have a Conflict with Luxury, with Madness, with Treachery.
[tr. Wase (1671)]
Our only danger is at home; treason lurks within our walls; the enemy is in the heart of the city. Luxury, villainy, and madness, are the foes we are to encounter.
[tr. Sydney (1795)]
Domestic war alone remains. The only plots against us are within our own walls, -- the danger is within, -- the enemy is within. We must war with luxury, with madness, with wickedness.
[tr. Yonge (1856)]
A war at home remains; the snares are within; the danger is inclosed within; the enemy is within; we have to contend with luxury, with madness, with guilt.
[tr. Mongan (1879)]
A domestic war remains; the snares are within; the danger is inclosed within; the enemy is within; it is to be contended to (by) us with luxury, with madness, with crime.
[tr. Underwood (1885)]
A domestic war remains; the ambuscades are within; the danger is enclosed within; the enemy is within; (it) is to [must] be contended by us [we must contend] with luxury, with madness, with crime.
[tr. Dewey (1916)]
The enemy is within the gates; it is with our own luxury, our own folly, our own criminality that we have to contend.
[tr. Taylor (1916)]
A hypothesis which permits the prediction of certain effects that always reoccur under certain conditions does, in its way amount to a demonstrable certainty. Even the Newtonian system had no more than such a foundation.
[Une hypothèse qui permet de prévoir certains effets qui se reproduisent toujours ressemble absolument à une vérité démontrée. Le système de Newton ne repose guère sur un autre fondement. Si en réalité et de l aveu du.]
Alexis de Tocqueville (1805-1859) French writer, diplomat, politician
Letter to De Gobineau (1858-08-05)
(Source)
You’ll dine well, dear Fabullus, in my lodging
one day soon — if the gods look on you kindly, if you bring along a good and lavish
dinner, not to mention an attractive
girl, plus wine and salt and witty stories. If, I repeat, you bring this lot, old sweetheart,
you’ll dine well. The thing is, your Catullus
has a purse that’s full — of spiders’ cobwebs.
[Cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
paucis, si tibi di favent, diebus,
si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cenam, non sine candida puella
et vino et sale et omnibus cachinnis.
haec si, inquam, attuleris, venuste noster
cenabis bene; nam tui Catulli
plenus sacculus est aranearum.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 13 “To Fabullus,” ll. 1-8 [tr. Green (2005)]
(Source)
Fabullus, if the gods agree, So mightily to favour thee;
Thou shalt, ere many days be spent, Sup with me to thy heart's content:
But do thyself provide the treat, Of which we sumptuously may eat;
Bring thy fair mistress, bring thy wine, Loud laughter, and each jest of thine;
Let these, my merry soul, be sent; Then sup unto thy heart's content:
For thy poor poet's purse with nought But spider's worthless webs is fraught.
[tr. Nott (1795)]
Fabullus, thou shalt be my guest
At supper soon, if Heaven's behest No otherwise decree:
The feast too must be rich and rare,
And since though lov'st luxurious fare, Bring such a feast with thee.
And bring the girl with breast of snow,
And wine and wit of ready flow, And laughter's joyous peal;
Bid but all these my board attend,
And then no doubt, my gallant friend, We'll have a glorious meal.
For in my coffers spiders weave
Their webs in peace ....
[tr. Lamb (1821)]
You dine with me, Fabullus mine, On Friday next, at half-past two;
And I can promise that you'll dine As well as man need wish to do;
If you bring with you, when you come, A dinner of the very best,
And lots of wine and mirth , and some Fair girl to give the whole a zest.
'Tis if you bring these -- mark me now! That you're to have the best of dinners;
For your Catullus' purse, I vow, Has nothing in't but long-legg'd spinners.
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]
If the gods will, Fabullus mine,
With me right heartily you'll dine,
Bring but good cheer -- that chance is thine Some days hereafter;
Mind a fair girl, too, wit, and wine, And merry laughter.
Bring these -- you'll feast on kingly fare --
But bring them -- for my purse -- I swear
The spiders have been weaving there.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
Please kind heaven, in happy time, Fabullus, We'll dine merrily, dear my friend, together.
Promise only to bring, your own, a dinner Rich and goodly; withal a lily maiden, Wine, and banter, a world of hearty laughing.
Promise only; betimes we dine, my gentle Friend, most merrily; but, for your Catullus -- Know he boasts but a pouch of empty cobwebs.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
Thou'lt sup right well with me, Fabullus mine, In days few-numbered an the Gods design,
An great and goodly meal thou bring wi' thee Nowise forgetting damsel bright o' blee,
With wine, and salty wit and laughs all-gay. An these my bonny man, thou bring, I say
Thou'lt sup right well, for thy Catullus' purse Save web of spider nothing does imburse.
[tr. Burton (1893)]
You will feast well with me, my Fabullus, in a few days, if the gods favour you, provided you bring here with you a good and great feast, not forgetting a radiant girl and wine and wit and all kinds of laughter. Provided, I say, you bring them here, our charming friend, you will feast well: for your Catullus' purse is full with cobwebs.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
You shall have a good dinner at my house, Fabullus, in a few days, please the gods, if you bring with you a good dinner and plenty of it, not forgetting a pretty girl and wine and wit and all5 kinds of laughter. If, I say, you bring all this, my charming friend, you shall have a good dinner; for your Catullus' purse is full of cobwebs.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
Fabullus, the Gods so willing, you shall feast with me in luxury, a few days hence, if you will bring with you dishes both delicate and varied, a comely maid, wine, wit, and a store of quips and cranks. Bring all these, my dear friend, and you shall sup luxuriously; for the purse of your Catullus is full of cobwebs.
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]
Come dine with me, Fabullus, do. You shall dine well, I promise you.
If Fates are kind, and if you bring Along with you the needful thing --
A dinner bountiful and fine, A pretty girl, new salt, old wine,
And topping all a hearty laugh, Mirth, jest, and wit and friendly chaff --
If these you bring, old friend, I swear. That you shall dine on royal fare.
Catullus' purse is full -- but hold! Of musty cobwebs -- now don't scold ....
[tr. Stewart (1915)]
Right well, Fabullus, you shall sup with me If the Gods love you, at an early date, If you bring ample fare and delicate,
A damsel too , if she be nice to see;
Bring wine and spice and laughs and gaiety; Bring these and you will sup with me in state. For my poor little purse, I tell you straight
Is stuffed with cobwebs, full as full can be.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]
Soon, if all's well, Fabullus mine, You at my house shall nobly dine,
If you the noble meal provide, Yes, and a lovely girl beside,
And wine and wit and mirth sans end. If these you bring, my charming friend,
You shall dine nobly; cobwebs fill The purse of your Catullus. Still ....
[tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
Within a week, dear friend, (D.V.) You shall be dining well with me;
That is, if you yourself provide The dinner and the wine beside,
And with some jokes to salt our food A damsel of complaisant mood.
If these you bring, then, as I say, We'll have a jolly feast that day.
For I must tell you that my purse Is full -- and there is nothing worse
Of cobwebs, and it does not hold The smallest particle of gold.
[tr. Wright (1926); "Deus Volunt" = "God Willing"]
Come, my Fabullus, there's a grand dinner waiting
for you at my house tomorrow, or the next day,
or the next, or a few days after --
that is, if gods are kind and you bring a banquet with you:
don't forget a round of wine and
a bright-eyed, sparkling girl and
your wit and every known variety of laughter.
Bring these, my dear, and you
shall have a glorious dinner;
your Catullus (see his purse)
has nothing left but cobwebs.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
Fabullus, you'll have quite a feast
At my place in a day or two -- If the gods decide to favor you, If you provide the meal, at least.
Then bring a glowing girl, and lend Some wine, some wit, a laugh that rings. If you remember all these things,
You'll have a feast, my charming friend --
For your Catullus' money-sack is full of spiders, nothing more.
[tr. Hollander (1976)]
You will dine well with me, my dear Fabullus,
in a few days or so, the gods permitting.
Provided you provide the many-splendored
feast and invite your fair-complected lady,
your wine, your salt, and all the entertainment!
Which is to say, my dear, if you bring dinner
you will dine well, for these days your Catullus
fines that his purse is only full of cobwebs.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
You’ll dine well, in a few days, with me,
if the gods are kind to you, my dear Fabullus,
and if you bring lots of good food with you,
and don’t come without a pretty girl
and wine and wit and all your laughter.
I say you’ll dine well, and charmingly,
if you bring all that: since your Catullus’s
purse alas is full of cobwebs.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
You’ll dine well at my house, Fabullus
In a few days, if the gods favor you, and
If you bring a fine, large meal with you.
And don’t forget: a bright-eyed girl,
Wine, salt, and every kind of cheer.
If you bring these things I ask, fine friend,
You will dine well: for your Catullus’ wallet
Is full of nothing but spider webs.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
You will dine well, my Fabullus, at my house
in a few days (if the gods favor you),
and if you bring with you a nice big
dinner, not without a pretty girl
and wine and wit and laughs for everyone
I say: if you bring these, my charming one,
you will dine well -- for the little purse
of your Catullus is full of cobwebs.
[tr. Wikibooks (2017)]
You will dine well, my (dear) Fabullus, at my house
in a few days, if the gods favor you,
and if you bring with you a large and good dinner,
not without a bright girl
and wine and salt[/wit] and laughter for all.
If you bring these, I say, our charming one,
you will dine well -- for your Catullus's
purse is full of cobwebs.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
However that may be, it is always disastrous when governments set to work to uphold opinions for their utility rather than for their truth. As soon as this is done it becomes necessary to have a censorship to suppress adverse arguments, and it is thought wise to discourage thinking among the young for fear of encouraging “dangerous thoughts.” When such mal-practices are employed against religion as they are in Soviet Russia, the theologians can see that they are bad, but they are still bad when employed in defence of what the theologians think good. Freedom of thought and the habit of giving weight to evidence are matters of far greater moral import than the belief in this or that theological dogma. On all these grounds it cannot be maintained that theological beliefs should be upheld for their usefulness without regard to their truth.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
“Is There a God?” (1952)
(Source)
Essay commissioned by Illustrated magazine in 1952, but never published there. First publication in Russell, Last Philosophical Testament, 1943-68 (1997) [ed. Slater/Köllner].
We must try to keep the mind in tranquility. For just as the eye which constantly shifts its gaze, now turning to the right or to the left, now incessantly peering up and down, cannot see distinctly what lies before it, but the sight must be fixed firmly on the object in view if one would make his vision of it clear, so too man’s mind when distracted by his countless worldly cares cannot focus itself distinctly on the truth.
Basil of Caesarea (AD 330-378) Christian bishop, theologian, monasticist, Doctor of the Church [Saint Basil the Great, Ἅγιος Βασίλειος ὁ Μέγας]
Letter to Gregory of Nazianzus (c. AD 358) [tr. Defarrari (1926)]
(Source)
Of course one does meet brilliant men, but they are isolated. The fashion nowadays is all for groups and societies of every sort. — It is always a sign of mediocrity in people when they herd together, whether their group loyalty is to Solovyev or to Kant or Marx. The truth is only sought by individuals, and they break with those who do not love it enough.
Boris Pasternak (1890-1960) Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator Doctor Zhivago [До́ктор Жива́го], Part 1, ch. 1 “The Five-O’Clock Express,” sec. 4 [Nikolai Nikolaievich] (1955) [tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
Yes, there are gifted men, but the fashion nowadays is all for groups and societies of every sort. Gregariousness is always the refuge of mediocrities, whether they swear by Solovyiëv or Kant or Marx. Only individuals seek the truth, and they shun those whose sole concern is not the truth.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]
You come across talented people. But now various circles and associations are the fashion. Every herd is a refuge for giftlessness, whether it's a faith in Soloviev, or Kant, or Marx. Only the solitary seek the truth, and they break with all those who don't love it sufficiently.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]
Full many various qualities distinguish
The Cyprian Goddess; both supreme delight
And sorrow she dispenses to mankind:
O may I meet with her when most propitious.
Many of us affect a tone of irony about gadgets, as if we lived always in realms above and dealt with trifles only during rare descents from sublime thoughts. The truth is that more and more of the important things in life turn on pinpoints. Our frustrations begin in trivialities — a telephone out of order, a car that will not start, a claim check whose number has been misread. The thing in cellophane that cannot be got at — plain to the sight but sealed like an egg — is the modern version of the torture of Tantalus. Catastrophes we will deal with like heroes, but the bottle top that defies us saps our morale, like the tiny arrows of the Lilliputians that maddened Gulliver and set his strength at naught.
Jacques Barzun (1907-2012) French-American historian, educator, polymath God’s Country and Mine, Part 3, ch. 12 (1954)
(Source)
SEMPRONIUS: Oh! think what anxious moments pass between
The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods,
Oh! ’tis a dreadful interval of time,
Filled up with horror all, and big with death!
Destruction hangs on every word we speak,
On every thought, till the concluding stroke
Determines all, and closes our design.
Joseph Addison (1672-1719) English essayist, poet, statesman Cato, Act 1, sc. 3, l. 50ff (1713)
(Source)
It is better to die well than to live ill. […] He who fears death loses the joy of life. Above all else truth triumphs. He conquers who dies because no adversity can hurt the one over whom iniquity holds not sway.
[Melius est bene mori, quam male vivere […] Qui mortem metuit, amittit gaudia vitae; super omnia vincit veritas, vincit, qui occiditur, quia nulla ei nocet adversitas, si nulla ei dominatur iniquitas.]
Jan Hus (c. 1370-1415) Czech priest, theologian, philosopher, Church reformer [John Huss, etc.]
Letter to Christian of Prachaticz (>1413-04) [tr. Schaff (1915)]
(Source)
Written while in exile from Prague. "Truth triumphs" was adopted as a motto by Hussite fighters, and is inscribed (in Czech, "Pravda vítězí") the banner of the President of the Czechia.
It is better to die well than to live badly. [...] He that fears death, loses the joys of life. Above all else, truth is conqueror. He conquers, who is slain: for no adversity hurts him if no iniquity hath dominion over him.
[tr. Pope (1904)]
The following translation is often mis-cited to Schaff; an examination of Schaff's book shows the above translation instead. I cannot find an original for this translation.
It is better to die well, than to live wrongly [...] Who is afraid of death loses the joy of life; truth prevails all, prevails who is killed, because no adversity can harm him, who is not dominated by injustice.
The rationale that etiquette should be eschewed because it fosters inequality does not ring true in a society that openly admits to a feverish interest in the comparative status-conveying qualities of sneakers. Manners are available to all, for free.
Judith Martin (b. 1938) American author, journalist, etiquette expert [a.k.a. Miss Manners] Common Courtesy, “On Etiquette as Language, Weapon, Custom, and Craft” (1985)
(Source)
I came back from that holiest of waves remade, refreshed as any new tree is, renewed, refreshed with foliage anew,
pure and prepared to rise towards the stars.
[Io ritornai da la santissima onda rifatto sì come piante novelle rinovellate di novella fronda,
puro e disposto a salire a le stelle.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 33, l. 142ff (33.142-146) (1314) [tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
(Source)
Conclusion of Dante's journey through Purgatory, his soul having been cleansed drinking the waters of the Eunoë. As with Inferno and Paradisio, Purgatorio ends on the word "stars."
From that pure fount, with renovated pow'r I rose, prepar'd to leave that happy Shore, And mount among the Stars, on ardent wing.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 27]
I return’d From the most holy wave, regenerate, If ’en as new plants renew’d with foliage new,
Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Returned I from that holiest of waves Refreshed in spirit, like the new-sprung plants, Renewed with foliage suited to their wants,
Pure, and disposed to climb unto the stars.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
From the most holy water I returned Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage,
Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
I turned back from the most holy wave refect in such wise as new plants renewed with new foliage, pure and disposed to mount up to the stars.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
I turnèd back from those most holy waves Created fresh, as plants made new once more, Renewèd through the birth of new green leaves,
Pure, and prepared unto the stars to soar.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
I returned from the most holy wave, renovated as new plants renewed with new foliage, pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
I came back from the most holy waves, born again, even as new trees renewed with new foliage, pure and ready to mount to the stars.
[tr. Okey (1901)]
From the most holy waters I came forth again remade, even as new plants renewed with new leaves, pure and ready to mount to the stars.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Back from that wave's most holy privilege I turned me, re-made, as the plant repairs Itself, renewed with its new foliage.
Pure and disposed to mount up to the stars.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
From those most holy waters, born anew I came, like trees by change of calendars Renewed with new-sprung foliage through and through,
Pure and prepared to leap up to the stars.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]
I came back from those holiest waters new, remade, reborn, like a sun-wakened tree that spreads new foliage to the Spring dew
in sweetest freshness, healed of Winter's scars;
perfect, pure, and ready for the stars.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]
I came forth from the most holy waves, renovated even as new trees renewed with new foliage, pure and ready to rise to the stars.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]
From those holiest waters I returned to her reborn, a tree renewed, in bloom with newborn foliage, immaculate,
eager to rise, now ready for the stars.
[tr. Musa (1981)]
I came back from that most sacred of streams, Made afresh, as new trees are renewed With their new foliage, and so I was
Clear and ready to go up to the stars.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
From that most holy wave I now returned to Beatrice; remade, as new trees are renewed when they bring forth new boughs, I was
pure and prepared to climb unto the stars.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]
I came back, from the most sacred waves, remade, as fresh plants are, refreshed, with fresh leaves: pure, and ready to climb to the stars.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
I returned from the most holy wave refreshed, as new plants are renewed with new leaves, pure and made ready to rise to the stars.
[tr. Durling (2003)]
From those most holy waters I came away remade, as are new plants renewed with new-sprung leaves,
pure and prepared to rise up to the stars.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Those holiest of waters returned me to life, Recovered like new trees which quickly grow New branches and new leaves. I'd been purified, Ready to rise where sanctified souls can go.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
A shrewd man has to arrange his interests in order of importance and deal with them one by one; but often our greed upsets this order and makes us run after so many things at once that through over-anxiety to have the trivial we miss the most important.
[Un habile homme doit régler le rang de ses intérêts et les conduire chacun dans son ordre. Notre avidité le trouble souvent en nous faisant courir à tant de choses à la fois que, pour désirer trop les moins importantes, on manque les plus considérables.]
François VI, duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) French epigrammatist, memoirist, noble Réflexions ou sentences et maximes morales [Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims], ¶66 (1665-1678) [tr. Tancock (1959)]
(Source)
Present in the first, 1665 edition in a slightlylonger form:
Un habile homme doit savoir régler le rang de ses intérêts et les conduire chacun dans son ordre. Notre avidité le trouble souvent en nous faisant courir à tant de choses à la fois que, pour désirer trop les moins importantes, nous ne les faisons pas assez servir à obtenir les plus considérables.
In this the prudent man is distinguishable from the imprudent, that he regulates his interests, and directs them to the prosecution of his designs each in their order. Our earnestness does many times raise a disturbance in them, by hurrying us after a hundred things at once. Thence it proceeds, that out of an excessive desire of the less important, we do not what is requisite for the attainment of the most considerable.
[tr. Davies (1669), ¶165]
A wise Man should order his Designs, and set all his Interests in their proper places. This Order is often disturbed by a foolish greediness, which, while it puts us upon pursuing several things at once, makes us eager for matters of less consideration; and while we grasp at trifles, we let go things of greater Value.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶67]
An able man will arrange his interests, and conduct each in its proper order. Our greediness often hurts us, by making us prosecute so many things at once; by too earnestly desiring the less considerable, we lose the more important.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶205; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶65]
An able man will arrange his respective interests;, and conduct each in its proper order. Ambition is often injurious, by tempting us to prosecute too much at once. By earnestly desiring the less considerable, we lose the more important.
[ed. Carville (1835), ¶473]
A clever man should regulate his interests, and place them in proper order. Our avidity often deranges them by inducing us to undertake too many things at once; and by grasping at minor objects, we lose our hold of more important ones.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶67]
A clever man ought to so regulate his interests that each will fall in due order. Our greediness so often troubles us, making us run after so many things at the same time, that while we too eagerly look after the least we miss the greatest.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871)]
A wise man co-ordinates his interests, and develops them according to their merits. Cupidity defeats its own ends by following so many at once that in our greed for trifles we lose sight of important matters.
[tr. Heard (1917)]
A clever man will know how to range his interests, and will pursue each according to its merits. Our greed, however, will often confuse our method; for we run after so many things at once that we frequently miss what is of importance in pursuit of what is negligible.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957)]
Clever men should arrange their desires in the proper order and seek each in turn. In our eagerness we often attempt too many things at once, and by striving too much after the small ones we lose the big.
[tr. Kronenberger (1959)]
A wise man ought to arrange his interests in their true order of importance. Our greed often disturbs this order by making us pursue so many things at once that, for too much desiring the least important, we miss those that are most so.
[tr. Whichello (2016)]
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.
Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of sixty more than a boy of twenty. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.
Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
Whether sixty or sixteen, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing child-like appetite of what’s next, and the joy of the game of living.
When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at twenty, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch the waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at eighty.
Samuel Ullman (1840-1924) German-American businessman, poet, humanitarian, religious leader
“Youth” (1918)
(Source)
This poem was a favorite of Douglas MacArthur, who had a copy hung in his office in Tokyo, and was responsible for much of the author's subsequent fame in Japan.
Administrivia: RSS and Email feed is kind of wonky
Apologies to those getting WIST via email or RSS. With the most recent upgrade on 17 April to WordPress 6.5.2, my RSS feed (which drives the follow.it email subscriptions) has defaulted to a “normal” feed, which loses the author information and other formatting. Unlike other instances of this (needing to replace the RSS feed modules with my customized version), it’s unclear why this is happening (the customized versions are still there). I’ll need to dig more deeply into this in my copious free time, unfortunately.
If you see a quote that seems interesting, and you want to know more (see more, see who said it, etc.) you can always click on the “title” to see the underlying WIST entry.
I’ll continue to work on this, but, yes, I’m aware it’s happening.
Added on 18-Apr-24; last updated 18-Apr-24 Link to this post | 1 comment More ~~Admin posts
It iz a darned sight eazier tew find six men who kan tell exactly how a thing ought tew be did than tew find one who will do it.
[It is a darned sight easier to find six men who can tell exactly how a thing ought to be done than to find one who will do it.]
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. 130 “Affurisms: Puddin & Milk” (1874)
(Source)
But if they should seek only revels and mistresses in wine and in the dice, they might be so despaired of indeed, but still they would be endurable. But who can endure this, that indolent fellows should lie in wait for the bravest men, the most foolish for the most prudent, the drunken for the sober, the sleeping for those lying awake? Who, reclining at banquets, embracing unchaste women, exhausted with wine, gorged with food, crowned with wreaths, besmeared with perfumes, debilitated by debaucheries, in their conversations belch out the slaughter of the good and the conflagrations of the city.
[Quod si in vino et alea comissationes solum et scorta quaererent, essent illi quidem desperandi, sed tamen essent ferendi: hoc vero quis ferre possit, inertis homines fortissimis viris insidiari, stultissimos prudentissimis, ebrios sobriis, dormientis vigilantibus? Qui mihi accubantes in conviviis, complexi mulieres impudicas, vino languidi, conferti cibo, sertis redimiti, unguentis obliti, debilitati stupris eructant sermonibus suis caedem bonorum atque urbis incendia.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher Orationes in Catilinam [Catilinarian Orations], No. 2, ch. 5 / § 10 (2.5.10) (63-11-09 BC) [tr. Mongan (1879)]
(Source)
Now if amidst their Drinking and Gaming, they only regarded Riot and Whoring, they were indeed little hopeful, but yet tolerable. But who can endure this, that Cowards should lay wait for the Valiant, Fools for the Wise, Sots for the Sober, Sluggards for the Vigilant? That sit me at Treats with their Misses in their Laps, their Brains swimming with Wine, Stomachs over charged with Meat, Garlands on their Heads, daubed with Sweet Oyntment, weakned with Whoring, and belch out in their talk the slaughter of the honest Party and the firing of the City.
[tr. Wase (1671)]
But if debauchery and the gratification of inordinate desires had been their only object, they might still deserve some lenity; their gaming-tables, their banquets, and their harlots might be in some degree forgiven: the men, it is true, would have been lost to every virtue, but the commonwealth would have been safe. The case is now very different: that cowards should lie in ambush for the brave; that fools should lay snares for the wise and good; that sots and drunkards should plot against the sober, and sluggards combine against the vigilant; this who can bear? And it is by such despicable traitors that the city is thrown into consternation; by a set of abandoned wretches, lolling at ease on their convivial couches, caressing their strumpets, intoxicated with liquor, crowned with garlands, sweetened with perfumes, and enervated by their vicious pleasures. Men do that description take upon them to reform the state; over their cups they disgorge their treasonable designs, and in bitter execrations devote us all to destruction.
[tr. Sydney (1795)]
But if in their drinking and gambling parties they were content with feasts and harlots, they would be in a hopeless state indeed; but yet they might be endured. But who can bear this, -- that indolent men should plot against the bravest, -- drunkards against the sober, -- men asleep against men awake, -- men lying at feasts, embracing abandoned women, languid with wine, crammed with food, crowned with chaplets, reeking with ointments, worn out with lust, belch out in their discourse the murder of all good men, and the conflagration of the city?
[tr. Yonge (1856)]
But if in wine and dice they might seek only revellings and prostitutes, they would be to be despaired of indeed; but yet they would be to be borne. But who may be able to bear this, (for) inactive men to lie in wait for the bravest men, the most foolish for the most prudent, the drunken for the sober, the sleeping for the watching? Who (for me), reclining in banquets, having embraced unchaste women, languid with wine, filled with food, crowned with garlands, besmeared with perfumes, weakened with debaucheries, belch out in their discourses the slaughter of the good, and the conflagrations of the city.
[tr. Underwood (1885)]
But if in wine and dice they were seeking only street revellings and prostitutes, they must be despaired of indeed; but yet they must be endured. But who many be able to endure this, (that) idle men [fellows] to [should] lie in wait for the bravest men, the most foolish for the most prudent, the drunken for the sober, the sleeping fo the watchin? Who I say, reclining in banquets, having embraced unchaste women, sluggish with wine, crammed with food, wreathed with garlands, besmeared with perfumes, weakened with debaucheries, belch forth in their discourses the slaughter of the good, and the conflagrations of the city.
[tr. Dewey (1916)]
Now, if during their drinking and gambling bouts they merely caroused and whored, they would be hopeless enough cases, it is true, yet they could be put up with all the same. But what is unbearable is that these spiritless, stupid, drunken, somnolent brutes should be plotting to cut down citizens who are pre-eminent for their courage and wisdom and sobriety and energy. For as these individuals recline at their banquets and embrace their harlots, dazed by wine and stuffed by food, garlanded with wreathes and smothered with scents and riddled with every sort of lewdness, the vomit which issues from their mouths consists of talk about massacring every loyal citizen and burning the city to the ground.
[tr. Grant (1960)]
If in the following pages I seem to express myself dogmatically, it is only because I find it very boring to qualify every phrase with an ‘I think’ or ‘to my mind.’ Everything I say is merely an Opinion of my own. The reader can take it or leave it. If he has the patience to read what follows he will see that there is only one thing about which I am certain, and this is that there is very little about which one can be certain.
W. Somerset Maugham (1874-1965) English novelist and playwright [William Somerset Maugham] The Summing Up, ch. 5 (1938)
(Source)
To found the reward for virtuous actions on the approval of others is to choose too uncertain and shaky a foundation. Especially in an age as corrupt and ignorant as this, the good opinion of the people is a dishonor. Whom can you trust to see what is praiseworthy?
[De fonder la recompence des actions vertueuses, sur l’approbation d’autruy, c’est prendre un trop incertain et trouble fondement, signamment en un siecle corrompu et ignorant, comme cettuy cy la bonne estime du peuple est injurieuse. A qui vous fiez vous, de veoir ce qui est louable?]
Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) French essayist Essays, Book 3, ch. 2 “Of Repentence [Du Repentir]” (1586) (3.2) (1595) [tr. Frame (1943)]
(Source)
This essay first appeared in the 1588 ed. The second sentence/phrase (on the age being so corrupt) and following were added for the 1595 ed.
To ground the recompence of vertuous actions, upon the approbation of others, is to undertake a most uncertaine or troubled foundation, namely in an age so corrupt and times so ignorant, as this is: the vulgar peoples good opinion is injurious. Whom trust you in seeing what is commendable?
[tr. Florio (1603)]
To ground the Recompence of virtuous Actions upon the Approbation of others, is too uncertain and unsafe a Foundation; especially in so corrupt and ignorant an Age as this, the good Opinion of the Vulgar is injurious. Upon whom do you relie to shew you what is recommendable?
[tr. Cotton (1686)]
To ground the recompense of virtuous actions upon the approbation of others is too uncertain and unsafe a foundation, especially in so corrupt and ignorant an age as this, wherein the good opinion of the vulgar is injurious: upon whom do you rely to show you what is recommendable?
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]
To base the reward of virtuous actions on the approbation of others is to choose a too uncertain and obscure foundation. Especially in a corrupt and ignorant age like this, the good opinion of the vulgar is offensive; to whom do you trust to perceive what is praiseworthy?
[tr. Ives (1925)]
Basing the recompense of virtuous deeds on another’s approbation is to accept too uncertain and confused a foundation -- especially since in a corrupt and ignorant period like our own to be in good esteem with the masses is an insult: whom would you trust to recognize what was worthy of praise!
[tr. Screech (1987)]
The knowledge that one has a remedy within reach is often as effectual as the remedy itself, if not more so.
F. Anstey (1856-1934) English novelist and journalist (pseud. of Thomas Anstey Guthrie) Tourmalin’s Time Cheques, ch. 2 “The Second Cheque” (1885)
(Source)
Then kiss me, sweet, while kiss we may.
A thousand kisses, hundreds then. And straightway we’ll begin again —
Another thousand, hundreds more. And still a thousand as before.
Till hundred thousands we shall kiss. And lose all count in drunken bliss,
Lest green-eyed envy, in dull spite, Should steal away our deep delight.
[Da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum,
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 5 “To Lesbia,” ll. 8-14 [tr. Stewart (1915)]
(Source)
One of Catulllus' most popular and widely-translated poems.
Then let amorous kisses dwell On our lips, begin and tell
A thousand, and a Hundred score, An Hundred and a Thousand more,
Till another Thousand smother That, and that wipe off another.
Thus at last when we have numbred Many a Thousand, many a Hundred,
We'll confound the reckoning quite, And lose ourselves in wild delight:
While our joyes so multiply As shall mocke the envious eye.
[tr. Crashaw (1648)]
Give me, then, a thousand kisses, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Till the sum of boundless blisses Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Neither we nor envy know.
[tr. Langhorne (c. 1765)]
Then first a thousand kisses give,
An hundred let me next receive, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Another thousand yet;
To these a second hundred join,
Still be another thousand mine, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
An hundred then repeat:
Such countless thousands let there be,
Sweetly confus'd ; that even we Twice ten thousand more bestow,
May know not the amount;
That envy, so immense a store
Beholding, may not have the pow'r Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Each various kiss to count.
[tr. Nott (1795)]
Then come, with whom alone I'll live, A thousand kisses take and give!
Another thousand! to the store Add hundreds -- then a thousand more!
And when they to a million mount, Let confusion take the account, --
That you, the number never knowing, May continue still bestowing
That I for joys may never pine, Which never can again be mine!
[tr. Coleridge (1798)]
Give me kisses thousand-fold, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Add to them a hundred more;
Other thousands still be told Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Other hundreds o'er and o'er.
But, with thousands when we burn, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Mix, confuse the sums at last,
That we may not blushing learn Twice ten thousand more bestow,
All that have between us past.
None shall know to what amount Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Envy's due for so much bliss;
None -- for none shall ever count Twice ten thousand more bestow,
All the kisses we will kiss.
[tr. Lamb (1821)]
Give me then a thousand kisses, Add a hundred to my blisses,
Then a thousand more, and then Add a hundred once again.
Crown me with a thousand more, Give a hundred as before,
Then kiss on without cessation, Till we lose all calculation,
And no envy mar our blisses, Hearing of such heaps of kisses.
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]
Then, charmer mine, with lip divine! Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Give me a thousand kisses;
A hundred then, then hundreds ten, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Then other hundred blisses.
Lip thousands o'er, sip hundreds more Twice ten thousand more bestow,
With panting ardour breathing;
Fill to the brim love's cup, its rim Twice ten thousand more bestow,
With rosy blossoms wreathing.
We'll mix them then, lest to our ken Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Should come our store of blisses,
Or envious wight should know, and blight Twice ten thousand more bestow,
So many honey' d kisses.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
Thousand kisses, anon to these an hundred,
Thousand kisses again, another hundred,
Thousand give me again, another hundred.
Then once heedfully counted all the thousands,
We'll uncount them as idly; so we shall not
Know, nor traitorous eye shall envy, knowing
All those myriad happy many kisses.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
Kiss me a thousand times, then hundred more,
Then thousand others, then a new five-score, Still other thousand other hundred store.
Last when the sums to many thousands grow, The tale let's trouble till no more we know,
Nor envious wight despiteful shall misween us Knowing how many kisses have been kissed between us.
[tr. Burton (1893)]
Give me a thousand kisses, and then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then another thousand without resting, then a hundred. Then, when we have made many thousands, we will confuse the count lest we know the numbering, so that no one can cast an evil eye on us through knowing the number of our kisses.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
Come, in yonder nook reclining, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Where the honeysuckle climbs,
Let us mock at Fate's designing, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Let us kiss a thousand times!
And if they shall prove too few, dear,
When they're kissed we'll start anew, dear!
And should any chance to see us, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Goodness! how they'll agonize!
How they'll wish that they could be us, Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Kissing in such liberal wise!
Never mind their envious whining;
Come, my Lesbia, no repining!
[tr. Field (1896)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then yet another thousand, then a hundred. Then, when we have made up many thousands, we will confuse our counting, that we may not know the reckoning, nor any malicious person blight them with evil eye, when he knows that our kisses are so many.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
Give me then a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then still another thousand, then one more hundred, then when we have had many a thousand, let us jostle them up, so that we may not keep count and no jealous-eyed person may envy us, knowing the number of our kisses.
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]
Then oh my Lesbia!
Live and love! Quick to my arms, and quick to my heart!
A thousand kisses!
Ten thousand kisses! Have done with a million! Then start
Again; for I fear Some wretch may envy us, dear,
[tr. Dement (1915)]
Come then , give me of kisses now a hundred,
Then a thousand and then yet hundreds other;
When our kisses their many thousands measure,
Blot the score out and reckon it as nothing,
Lest some evil eye paralyse our pleasure,
Seeing jealously such a wealth of loving.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]
A thousand kisses, then five score,
A thousand and a hundred more,
Then one for each you gave before.
Then, as the many thousands grow,
We'll wreck the counting lest we know,
Or lest an evil eye prevail
Through knowledge of the kisses' tale.
[tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
Let me a hundred kisses take
And then of them a thousand make,
A hundred and a thousand more
Repeated twice shall swell the score.
But when to thousands we shall get,
We will the reckoning upset;
That none may envy us our bliss
Knowing the number of each kiss.
[tr. Wright (1926)]
Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Give me a thousand kisses,
then a hundred, another thousand,
another hundred Twice ten thousand more bestow,
and in one breath
still kiss another thousand,
another hundred. Twice ten thousand more bestow,
O then with lips and bodies joined
many deep thousands; Twice ten thousand more bestow,
confuse
their number Twice ten thousand more bestow,
so that poor fools and cuckolds (envious
even now) shall never
learn our wealth and curse us
with their
evil eyes.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
another thousand next, another hundred,
a thousand without pause & then a hundred,
until when we have run up our thousands
we will cry bankrupt, hiding our assets
from ourselves & any who would harm us,
knowing the volume of our trade in kisses.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
Give me a thousand kisses, a hundred more,
another thousand, and another hundred,
and, when we’ve counted up the many thousands,
confuse them so as not to know them all,
so that no enemy may cast an evil eye,
by knowing that there were so many kisses.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand more, then another hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them all up so that we don't know,
and so that no one can be jealous of us when he finds out
how many kisses we have shared.
[tr. Negenborn (1997)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then a thousand more, a second hundred,
then yet another thousand then a hundred
then when we've notched up all these many thousands,
shuffle the figures, lose count of the total,
so no maleficent enemy can hex us
knowing the final sum of all our kisses.
[tr. Green (2005)]
So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty:
First a thousand, then a hundred kisses;
Then catch your breath and kiss me more:
Another thousand, another hundred,
Still thousands yet till we've lost all count
And must begin again, keeping
Envious others guessing the sum
Of how many kisses much we love.
[tr. Hager (2006)]
Give me a thousand kisses and then a hundred,
then another thousand and a second hundred,
And even then another thousand, a hundred more.
When we’ve had so many thousands,
we will mix them together so we don’t know,
so that no wicked man can feel envy
when he knows what a number of kisses there’ve been.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then a thousand others, then a second hundred,
then up to a thousand others, then a hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them up, lest we should know,
--or lest any evil person should be able to envy us
when he knows--how many kisses there are.
[tr. Wikibooks (2017)]
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then immediately a thousand then a hundred.
then, when we will have made many thousand kisses,
we will throw them into confusion, lest we know,
or lest anyone bad be able to envy
when he knows there to be so many kisses.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
It has been one of the defects of theologians at all times to over-estimate the importance of our planet. No doubt this was natural enough in the days before Copernicus when it was thought that the heavens revolve about the earth. But since Copernicus and still more since the modern exploration of distant regions, this pre-occupation with the earth has become rather parochial. If the universe had a Creator, it is hardly reasonable to suppose that He was specially interested in our little corner. And, if He was not, His values must have been different from ours, since in the immense majority of regions life is impossible.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
“Is There a God?” (1952)
(Source)
Essay commissioned by Illustrated magazine in 1952, but never published there. First publication in Russell, Last Philosophical Testament, 1943-68 (1997) [ed. Slater/Köllner].
Enlarge within us the sense of fellowship with all the living things, our little brothers, to whom thou hast given this earth as their home in common with us. We remember with shame that in the past we have exercised the high dominion of man with ruthless cruelty, so that the voice of the Earth, which should have gone up to thee in song, has been a groan of travail. May we realize that they live, not for us alone, but for themselves and for thee, and that they love the sweetness of life even as we, and serve thee in their place better than we in ours.
Walter Rauschenbusch (1861-1918) American theologian, social reformer, Baptist pastor Prayers of the Social Awakening, “For the World” (1910)
(Source)
This prayer is frequently misattributed to St Basil of Caesarea, often in a variant form such as this:
Oh God enlarge within us the sense of fellowship with all living things, our brothers the animals to whom Thou gavest the earth in common with us. We remember with shame that in the past we have exercised the high dominion of man with ruthless cruelty so that the voice of the earth, which should have gone up to Thee in song, has been a groan of travail.
Alas, how right the ancient saying is:
We, who are old, are nothing else but noise
And shape. Like mimicries of dreams we go,
And have no wits, although we think us wise.
How true this antient saying; we old men
Are nought but trouble, and an empty shadow,
We crawl about, the semblances of dreams.
And of our mental faculties deprived.
Still fancy we with wisdom are endued.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]
Oh, alas, how true the ancient saying is: we old men are nothing but noise and mere shapes, and we move as imitations of dreams; there is no intelligence in us, yet we think we have good sense.
[tr. Collard & Cropp (2008)]
Alas, the ancient proverb holds well:
We old men are nothing other than a sound
and an image, lurking imitations of dreams.
We have no mind and but we think we know how to think well.
[tr. @sentantiq (2014)]
Incline us oh God! to think humbly of ourselves, to be severe only in the examination of our own conduct, to consider our fellow-creatures with kindness, and to judge of all they say and do with that charity which we would desire from them ourselves.
Jane Austen (1775-1817) English author
Prayer 3 “Another Day Now Gone”
(Source)
What is the end of Fame? ’tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour;
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their “midnight taper,”
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 218 (1818)
(Source)
Of all authors, I despise none more than the compilers, who go off in all directions looking for bits and pieces of other writers’ works, which they then stick into their own, like pieces of turf into a lawn; they’re in no way superior to those printer’s typesetters, who arrange letters which, combined together, make a book, to which they contributed only the manual labour. I would like the original texts to be respected; I feel it’s a kind of profanation, to extract the pieces which make them up from the sanctuary where they belong, and expose them to a contempt they do not deserve. When a man has nothing new to say, why does he not keep silent?
[De tous les auteurs, il n’y en a point que je méprise plus que les compilateurs, qui vont, de tous côtés, chercher des lambeaux des ouvrages des autres, qu’ils plaquent dans les leurs, comme des pièces de gazon dans un parterre: ils ne sont point au-dessus de ces ouvriers d’imprimerie qui rangent des caractères, qui, combinés ensemble, font un livre où ils n’ont fourni que la main. Je voudrois qu’on respectât les livres originaux; et il me semble que c’est une espèce de profanation de tirer les pièces qui les composent du sanctuaire où elles sont, pour les exposer à un mépris qu’elles ne méritent point. Quand un homme n’a rien à dire de nouveau, que ne se tait-il?]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 66, Rica to *** (1721) [tr. Mauldon (2008)]
(Source)
It is unclear what Montesquieu / his character would have thought of quotation collections.
Of all Authors, there is none I despise more than the Compilers, who forage far and wide for Scraps of other Men's Works, which they piece into their own, like so many Dabs of Green Turf in a Flower-garden: they are not a whit superior to those that work in a Printing-house, who distribute the Types, which being put together make a Book, towards which they furnish'd nothing but Manual Labour. I am for having Original Authors reverenc'd: and, in my Judgment, 'tis a sort of Prophanation to drag, as it were out of their Sanctuary, Pieces of their Works, and expose them to a Contempt which they deserve not. If a Man has nothing new to say, why don't he hold his Tongue?
[tr. Ozell (1736 ed.), # 64]
Of all kind of authors, there are none I despise more than compilers, who search every where for shreds of other men's works, which they join to their own, like so many pieces of green turf in a garden: they are not at all superior to compositors in a printing house, who range the types, wh:ch, collected together, make a book, towards which they contribute nothing but the labours of the hand. I would have original writers respected, and it seems to me, a kind of profanation to take those pieces from the sanftuary in which they reside, and to expose them to a contempt they do not deserve. When a man hath nothing new to say, why does not he hold his tongue?
[tr. Floyd (1762)]
Of all the authors, there are none whom I despise more than compilers. They crowd from all quarters to pick up the shreds of other men’s works; these they fit into their own, as one would patch the turf of a lawn: they are not one whit superior to the compositor, whose type-setting may be called book-making if manual labor is all. I would have original books respected; and it seems to me a species of profanation, to take from them the matter of which they are composed, as if from a sanctuary, and expose it to an undeserved contempt. When a man has nothing new to say, why can’t he be quiet?
[tr. Davidson (1891)]
There is no class of authors I despise more than I do compilers, who come from every side to search for the fragments of other men's works, which they wedge into their own, just as you would introduce patches of turf into the border of a flower-plot. They are not superior to printers who arrange characters in such a way as to produce a book, but whose manual labor has been all that has entered into its composition. I would have original books respected. It is a kind of profanation to tear from them the parts of which they are composed, as if from a sanctuary, and thereby expose them to a contempt they do not deserve.
[tr. Betts (1897)]
Of all authors, I most despise the compilers, who search everywhere in the works of others for fragments which they then fit into their own, much as you would piece turf into a lawn. They are no better authors than the printers who select and combine letters and thus, contributing only their manual labor, make a book. I would have original books respected, and it seems to me that there is something profane in tearing constituent pieces from their sanctuary and exposing them to a scorn they do not deserve. When a man has nothing to say, why is he not silent?
[tr. Healy (1964)]
Of all these authors, the ones I despise the most are the compilers, the ones who rummage through the works of others and tear off strips to patch into their own books, like bits of turf in a lawn. They are no better than the compositors who work for the printers, putting letters together so as to form a book; they have contributed nothing but the use of their hands. I think original books ought to be more respected, for I think it is a kind of profanation to take fragments out of their sanctuary and expose them to a contempt that they do not merit. When a man has nothing new to say, why does he not keep quiet?
[tr. MacKenzie (2014)]
Scorn for wealth among philosophers was at bottom a desire to avenge themselves against fate, by despising the very things of which she deprived them. It was a strategic way of avoiding the humiliations of poverty, a roundabout way of gaining an esteem they could not gain through wealth.
[Le mépris des richesses était dans les philosophes un désir cache de venger leur mérite de l’injustice de la fortune par le mépris des mêmes biens dont elle les privait; c’était un secret pour se garantir de l’avilissement de la pauvreté; c’était un chemin détourné pour aller à la considération qu’ils ne pouvaient avoir par les richesses.]
François VI, duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) French epigrammatist, memoirist, noble Réflexions ou sentences et maximes morales [Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims], ¶54 (1665-1678) [tr. Kronenberger (1959)]
(Source)
The contempt of wealth, in the Philosophers, was a secret desire of vindicating their merit, against the injustice of Fortune, by an affected slighting of those goods, whereof she depriv'd them. It was an humorous secret, which they had found out, to indemnifie themselves from the disparagement accessory to Poverty. In fine, it was a winding path, or by-way to get into that esteem, which they could not obtain by Riches.
[tr. Davies (1669), ¶170]
When the Philosophers despised Riches, it was because they had a mind to vindicate their own Merit, and take a Revenge upon the injustice of Fortune, by vilifying those Enjoyments which She had not given them: This was a secret to ward off the Contempt that Poverty brings, a kind of winding By-path to get into the Esteem of the World, and when Riches had not made them considerable, to make themselves so some other way.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶55]
The contempt of riches in the philosophers was a concealed desire of revenging on Fortune the injustice done to their merit, by despising the good she denied them. It was a secret to shelter them from the ignominy of poverty ; a bye-way to arrive at the esteem they could not procure by wealth.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶341; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶54]
Contempt of riches in the old philosophers was a concealed desire of revenge, by despising the good which Fortune had denied them. It was an artful shelter from the disgrace of poverty: a by-way to arrive at that esteem which they could not procure by wealth.
[ed. Carville (1835), ¶301]
The contempt of riches among the philosophers was a hidden desire to revenge their merit for the injustice of Fortune, by contempt of the very advantages of which she deprived them. It was a secret to secure themselves from the degradation of poverty: it was a by road to arrive at that consideration which they could not obtain by riches.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶55]
The contempt of riches in philosophers was only a hidden desire to avenge their merit upon the injustice of fortune, by despising the very goods of which fortune had deprived them; it was a secret to guard themselves against the degradation of poverty, it was a back way by which to arrive at that distinction which they could not gain by riches.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871)]
The Philosophers' scorn of wealth was but their secret ambition to exalt their merit above fortune by deriding those blessings which Fate denied them. It was a ruse to shield them from the sordidness of poverty, and a subterfuge to attain that distinction which they could not achieve by wealth.
[tr. Heard (1917)]
Contempt of wealth was, among the early philosophers, due to a secret desire to vindicate their worth agaiunst the malignity of fate, by affecting to despise those very gifts of which it deprived them. It was a means of insurance against the ignominy of poverty, a round-about way of acquiring the esteem they were unable to command by the possession of wealth.
[tr. Stevens (1939)]
Philosophers have expressed their contempt for material riches; they thus reveal their wish to vindicate their merit on their fate by displaying their contempt for those gifts which fate has withheld from them; it is a secret remedy to save them from those degradations which poverty entails; it is also an indirect method for obtaining that respect which they cannot gain through wealth.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957)]
The scorn for riches displayed by the philosophers was a secrete desire to recompense their own merit for the injustice of Fortune by scorning those very benefits she had denied them; it it was a private way of remaining unsullied by poverty, a devious path towards the high respect they could not command by wealth.
[tr. Tancock (1959)]
The contempt which philosophers professed for wealth, was but a hidden desire of getting revenge for their merit upon the injustice of Fortune, by despising those goods of which she had deprived them: it was a secret by which to protect themselves against the degradation of poverty; it was an alternate path by which to gain that consideration which they had not been able to attain through riches.
[tr. Whichello (2016)]
The first symptom is that hair grows on your ears. It’s very disconcerting.
Edward G. Robinson (1893-1973) American stage and film actor [b. Emanuel Goldenberg] All My Yesterdays: An Autobiography, “Epilogue” (1973) [with Leonard Spigelgass]
(Source)
Having a baby is like trying to push a grand piano through a transom.
Alice Roosevelt Longworth (1884-1980) American writer and socialite
(Attributed)
(Source)
On the birth of her daughter. Though widely attributed to Longworth, she in turn (as she did with many of her attributed witticisms) attributed it to someone else.
Quoted in Michael Teague, ed., Mrs. L.: Conversations With Alice Roosevelt Longworth, Introduction (1981).
In the end, what are man’s truths? His irrefutable errors.
[Was sind denn zuletzt die Wahrheiten des Menschen? — Es sind die unwiderlegbaren Irrthümer des Menschen.]
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) German philosopher and poet The Gay Science [Die fröhliche Wissenschaft], Book 3, § 265 (1882) [tr. Hill (2018)]
(Source)
Also known as La Gaya Scienza, The Joyful Wisdom, or The Joyous Science.
Come, let us live and love, my dear, A fig for all the pratings drear
Of sour old sages, worldly wise. Aye, suns may set again to rise;
But as for us, when once our sun His little course of light has run,
An endless night we’ll sleep away.
[Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
rumoresque senum severiorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 5 “To Lesbia,” ll. 1-6 [tr. Stewart (1915)]
(Source)
One of Catulllus' most popular and widely-translated poems.
Come and let us live, my Deare, Let us love and never feare
What the sourest Fathers say: Brightest Sol that dyes to-day
Lives againe as blithe to-morrow; But if we darke sons of sorrow
Set, ô then, how long a Night Shuts the Eyes of our short light!
[tr. Crashaw (1648)]
Lesbia, live to love and pleasure, Careless what the grave may say:
When each moment is a treasure Why should lovers lose a day?
Setting suns shall rise in glory, But when little life is o'er,
There's an end of all the story -- We shall sleep, and wake no more.
[tr. Langhorne (c. 1765)]
Let's live, and love, my darling fair!
And not a single farthing care For age's babbling spite;
Yon suns that set again shall rise,
but, when our transient meteor dies, We sleep in endless night.
[tr. Nott (1795)]
My Lesbia, let us love and live, And to the winds, my Lesbia, give
Each cold restraint, each boding fear Of age and all her saws severe.
Yon sun now posting to the main Will set -- but 'tis to rise again: --
But we, when once our mortal light Is set, must sleep in endless night!
[tr. Coleridge (1798)]
Love, my Lesbia, while we live, Value all the cross advice
That the surly greybeards give At a single farthing's price.
Suns that set again may rise; We, when once our fleeting light,
Once our day in darkness dies, Sleep in one eternal night.
[tr. Lamb (1821)]
Live we, love we, Lesbia dear, And the stupid saws austere,
Which your sour old dotards prate, Let us at a farthing rate!
When the sun sets, ' tis to rise Brighter in the morning skies;
But, when sets our little light, We must sleep in endless night.
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]
The while we live, to love let's give Each hour, my winsome dearie!
Hence, churlish rage of icy age! Of love we 'll ne'er grow weary.
Bright Phoebus dies, again to rise; Returns life's brief light never;
When once 'tis gone, we slumber on For ever and for ever.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
Living, Lesbia, we should e'en be loving.
Sour severity, tongue of eld maligning,
All be to us a penny's estimation.
Suns set only to rise again to-morrow.
We, when sets in a little hour the brief light,
Sleep one infinite age, a night for ever.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
Love we (my Lesbia!) and live we our day, While all stern sayings crabbed sages say,
At one doit's value let us price and prize! The Suns can westward sink again to rise
But we, extinguished once our tiny light, Perforce shall slumber through one lasting night!
[tr. Burton (1893)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and count all the rumors of stern old men at a penny's fee. Suns can set and rise again: we when once our brief light has set must sleep through a perpetual night.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
Come, my Lesbia, no repining;
Let us love while yet we may!
Suns go on forever shining;
But when we have had our day, Sleep perpetual shall o'ertake us, And no morrow's dawn awake us.
[tr. Field (1896)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, and love, and value at one farthing all the talk of crabbed old men. Suns may set and rise again. For us, when the short light has once set, remains to be slept the sleep of one unbroken night.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love, for the reprobation of soured age let us not care a sou. Suns can set and rise again; but to our brief light, when once it sets, there comes a never-ending night that must be passed in never-ending sleep.
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]
We live, Lesbia,
And we love, Lesbia,
And what do we care what the world may say?
The sun goes down,
And the sun comes up,
But our little lives pass away
In a day,
Our poor little lives pass away.
[tr. Dement (1915)]
Let us revel in life and love, my darling;
All that crabbed antiquities say idly
We will value together at a farthing.
Suns may set , and return again as brightly:
When our light to its dying spark has fluttered,
We must sleep an eternity of slumber.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]
O! let us love and have our day,
All that the bitter greybeards say Appraising at a single mite.
My Lesbia , suns can set and rise:
For us the brief light dawns and dies Once only, and the rest is night.
[tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
Come let us live and let us love, And the stern voice of censors prove,
Who bid us from our loving cease, Exactly worth a penny piece.
For suns can rise and suns can wane And on the morrow rise again;
But when our one brief day is gone, For ever we must sleep alone.
[tr. Wright (1926)]
Come, Lesbia, let us live and love,
nor give a damn what sour old men say.
The sun that sets may rise again
but when our light has sunk into the earth,
it is gone forever.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
Lesbia, let us live only for loving,
and let us value at a single penny
all the loose flap of senile busybodies!
Suns when they set are capable of rising,
but at the setting of our on brief light
night is one sleep from which we never awaken.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love,
and all the words of the old, and so moral,
may they be worth less than nothing to us!
Suns may set, and suns may rise again:
but when our brief light has set,
night is one long everlasting sleep.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us judge all the rumors of the old men
to be worth just one penny!
The suns are able to fall and rise:
When that brief light has fallen for us,
we must sleep a never ending night.
[tr. Negenborn (1997)]
Let's live, Lesbia mine, and love --
and as for scandal, all the gossip, old men's strictures,
value the lot at no more than a farthing!
Suns can rise and set ad infinitum --
for us, though, once our bref life's quenched,
there's only one unending night that's left to sleep through.
[tr. Green (2005)]
Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love,
And ignore the wagging tongues
Of wilted crones and toothless geezers.
Suns rise and set, rise and set again,
But we, when our brief light is blacked,
Must sleep forever, and then forever. [tr. Hager (2006)]
My Lesbia, let’s live and let’s love,
Let all the rumors of harsh old men
count for only a penny.
Suns can set and rise again:
but when our brief light sets
we must sleep a lonely endless night.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let's value all the rumors
of rather stern old men as one penny!
Suns can set and return;
as for us, once our brief light sets,
there is one perpetual night to be slept.
[tr. Wikibooks (2017)]
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us value all the rumors of
more severe old men at only a penny!
Suns are able to set and return:
when once the short light has set for us
one perpetual night must be slept by us.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
Compare also these two pieces, which start modeled after Catullus (as shown):
My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love; And though the sager sort our deeds reprove,
Let us not weigh them: Heaven's great lamps do dive Into their west, and straight again revive,
But, soon as once set is our little light, Then must we sleep one ever-during night.
[Thomas Campion, A Book of Airs (1601)]
Come my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love;
Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever.
Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again,
But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
[Ben Jonson, Volpone, Act 3, sc. 6 (1616)]
“But whom do I treat unjustly,” you say, “by keeping what is my own?” Tell me, what is your own? What did you bring into this life? From where did you receive it? It is as if someone were to take the first seat in the theater, then bar everyone else from attending, so that one person alone enjoys what is offered for the benefit of all in common — this is what the rich do. They seize common goods before others have the opportunity, then claim them as their own by right of preemption. For if we all took only what was necessary to satisfy our own needs, giving the rest to those who lack, no one would be rich, no one would be poor, and no one would be in need.
Basil of Caesarea (AD 330-378) Christian bishop, theologian, monasticist, Doctor of the Church [Saint Basil the Great, Ἅγιος Βασίλειος ὁ Μέγας]
“I Will Tear Down My Barns [καθελῶ μου τὰς ἀποθήκας],” Sermon # 6 [tr. Schroeder (2009)]
(Source)
In C. Paul Schroeder, ed., Saint Basil on Social Justice (2009).
Children have an uncanny way of living up — or down — to what is expected of them.
Ann Landers (1918-2002) American advice columnist [pseud. for Eppie Lederer]
“Parenthood: What Do You Owe Your Children?” Family Circle (1977-11)
(Source)
But now at thirty years my hair is gray –– (I wonder what it will be like at forty?
I thought of a peruke the other day) My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I
Have squander’d my whole summer while ’twas May, And feel no more the spirit to retort; I
Have spent my life, both interest and principal,
And deem not, what I deem’d, my soul invincible.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 213 (1818)
(Source)
I don’t believe any man ever existed without vanity, and if he did he would be an extremely uncomfortable person to have anything to do with. He would, of course, be a very good man, and we should respect him very much. He would be a very admirable man — a man to be put under a glass case and shown round as a specimen — a man to be stuck upon a pedestal and copied, like a school exercise — a man to be reverenced, but not a man to be loved, not a human brother whose hand we should care to grip. Angels may be very excellent sort of folk in their way, but we, poor mortals, in our present state, would probably find them precious slow company. Even mere good people are rather depressing.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome] Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Vanity and Vanities” (1886)
(Source)
In fact, even were it not inhuman to trouble another man’s conscience, even were there none of the bad effects that spring up by the thousands, one would have to be deranged to engage in such a purpose. He who tries to make me change my religion only does so, presumably, because he would never change his own, even were someone to try to force him to do so; so how can he find it strange that I should refuse to do something that he himself would not do, even perhaps were he offered the world as his empire?
[Car, enfin, quand il n’y auroit pas de l’inhumanité à affliger la conscience des autres, quand il n’en résulteroit aucun des mauvais effets qui en germent à milliers, il faudroit être fou pour s’en aviser. Celui qui veut me faire changer de religion ne le fait sans doute que parce qu’il ne changeroit pas la sienne, quand on voudroit l’y forcer : il trouve donc étrange que je ne fasse pas une chose qu’il ne feroit pas lui-même, peut-être pour l’empire du monde.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 86, Usbek to Mirza (1721) [tr. Mauldon (2008), # 83]
(Source)
For, in short, though there was nothing of inhumanity in forcing the consciences of others; though it occasioned none of those ill effects which spring up from it by thousands; a man must be a fool to offer at it. He that would have me change my religion, does it, no doubt, because he would not change his own if he were to be forced to it: so that he wonders I will not do a thing, which perhaps he would not do himself for the empire of the universe.
[tr. Ozell (1760 ed.)]
For indeed, if there was nothing of inhumanity in forcing the conscience of another, though there did not arise from it any of those bad effects which spring from it by thousands, it would be folly to advise it. He who would have me change my religion, no doubt, desires me to do so, because he would not change his own if he were forced to do it: he yet thinks it strange, that I will not do a thing which he himself would not do, perhaps, for the empire of the world.
[tr. Floyd (1762), # 85]
In conclusion, even if there were no inhumanity in distressing the consciences of others, even if there did not result from such a course any of the evil effects which do spring from it in thousands, it would still be foolish to advise it. He who would have me change my religion is led to that, without doubt, because he would not change his own although force were employed; and yet he finds it strange that I will not do a thing which he himself would not do, perhaps for the empire of the world.
[tr. Davidson (1891)]
For, in fine, even if the attempt to trouble the conscience of our neighbor was not in itself inhuman, if the manifold evil effects which spring from it had no existence, the mere contemplation of such a course would be an evidence of mental unsoundness. The man who would have me change my religion does so doubtless because he would never change his own, no matter what force was brought to bear upon him: yet he thinks it strange that I should refuse to do a thing he would not himself do for the empire of the whole world!
[tr. Betts (1897)]
Finally, even if it were not inhumane to afflict another’s conscience, and even if there did not result from such an act those bad effects which spring up by the thousands, it would still be foolish to advise it. Whoever would have me change my religion doubtlessly acts as he does because he would not change his, however he was forced; yet he finds it strange that I will not do something which he would not do himself, perhaps for the entire world.
[tr. Healy (1964), # 85]
Finally, even if it were inhumane to make such an assault on the consciences of others, with its thousands of self-replicating evil consequences, one would have to be mad to advise it. The man who wants me to change my religion does so only because he would never change his, no matter how much he was forced. And thus he thinks it strange that I will not do a thing he would not do for all the kingdoms of the world.
[tr. MacKenzie (2014), # 85]
What if thou be saint or sinner,
Crooked gray-beard, straight beginner, —
Empty paunch, or jolly dinner, When Death thee shall call.
All alike are rich and richer,
King with crown, and cross-legged stitcher, When the grave hides all.
Richard Watson Gilder (1844-1909) American poet and editor
“Drinking Song,” st. 2, Lyrics, and Other Poems (1885)
(Source)
People who are too much concerned with little things usually become incapable of big ones.
[Ceux qui s’appliquent trop aux petites choses deviennent ordinairement incapables des grandes.]
François VI, duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) French epigrammatist, memoirist, noble Réflexions ou sentences et maximes morales [Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims], ¶41 (1665-1678) [tr. Kronenberger (1959)]
(Source)
Present from the 1665 edition. See here for more discussion (English).
They that use to employ their minds too much upon Trifles, commonly make themselves incapable of any thing that is serious or great.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶42]
Those who apply themselves too much to little things, commonly become incapable of great ones.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶38; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶41]]
Those who apply themselves much to little things, commonly become incapable of great ones.
[ed. Carville (1835), ¶35]
Those who bestow too much application on trifling things, become generally incapable of great ones.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶42]
Those who apply themselves too closely to little things often become incapable of great things.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871)]
Undue attention to details tends to unfit us for greater enterprises.
[tr. Heard (1917)]
Too close attention to trifles generally breeds incapacity in matters of moment.
[tr. Stevens (1939)]
Men too involved in details usually become unable to deal with great matters.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957)]
People too much taken up with little things usually become incapable of big ones.
[tr. Tancock (1959)]
Those who apply themselves too much to little things, ordinarily become incapable of great ones.
[tr. Whichello (2016)]
For the complete life, the perfect pattern, includes old age as well as youth and maturity. The beauty of the morning and the radiance of noon are good, but it would be a very silly person who drew the curtains and turned on the light in order to shut out the tranquility of the evening. Old age has its pleasures, which, though different, are not less than the pleasures of youth.
W. Somerset Maugham (1874-1965) English novelist and playwright [William Somerset Maugham] The Summing Up, ch. 73 (1938)
(Source)
Dore – Purgatorio, Canto 33 – Drinking from the Eunoe (1868)
Reader, had I the space to write at will, I should, if only briefly, sing a praise of that sweet draught. Would I were drinking still!
But I have filled all the pages planned for this, my second, canticle, and Art pulls at its iron bit with iron hand.
[S’io avessi, lettor, più lungo spazio da scrivere, i’ pur cantere’ in parte lo dolce ber che mai non m’avria sazio;
ma perché piene son tutte le carte ordite a questa cantica seconda, non mi lascia più ir lo fren de l’arte.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 33, l. 136ff (3.136-141) (1314) [tr. Ciardi (1961)]
(Source)
On drinking from the Eunoë, Dante gets meta, breaking the Fourth Wall and, having self-imposed limits on the number of cantos per book and lines in each canto, he uses "Art" as an excuse to draw toward a conclusion.
On the other hand, Sayers notes that Dante "is almost unique among medieval writers" in restraining his writing: "one of the reasons for his enduring readableness."
If breath and vigour, by indulgent Heav'n,
To sing this bev'rage of the Gods were giv'n, What holy rapture would exalt my Song!
To tell the unexhausted sweets that flow
From that blest Fountain o'er the Vale below. And warm, with new desire, the votive Throng!
But now the Muse has run her fatal round,
And mark'd her Circle to the Second Bound.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 26-27]
Were further space allow’d,
Then, Reader, might I sing, though but in part,
That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne’er
Been sated. But, since all the leaves are full,
Appointed for this second strain, mine art
With warning bridle checks me.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Reader, had I but longer space to write, I might describe to thee, in part, the taste Of draught that's ever sweet, nor waste
The time; but leaves are all already full Appointed for the second canticle, Nor curb nor rein permit me use the will.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
If, Reader, I possessed a longer space For writing it, I yet would sing in part Of the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate me;
But inasmuch as full are all the leaves Made ready for this second canticle, The curb of art no farther lets me go.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
If I had, reader, longer space to write, I should sing, at all events in part, the sweet draught which never would have sated me; but, for that all the sheets put in frame for this second Canticle are full, the bridle of my art lets me go no further.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Reader, if longer space to me were rated For writing, I would strive to sing in part That draught so sweet, which never could have sated.
But since is now completely filled the chart Allotted for this second book, there leaves No power to wander more the curb of Art.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
If I had, Reader, longer space for writing I would yet partly sing the sweet draught which never would have sated me. But, because all the leaves destined for this second canticle are full, the curb of my art lets me go no further.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
If, reader, I had greater space for writing, I would sing, at least in part, of the sweet draught which never would have sated me; but forasmuch as all the pages ordained for this second canticle are filled, the curb of art no further lets me go.
[tr. Okey (1901)]
If, reader, I had more space to write I should sing but in part the sweet draught which never would have sated me; but since all the sheets prepared for this second cantica are full the curb of art does not let me go farther.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
If, Reader, for the writing were more space, That sweet fount, whence I ne'er could drink my fill, Would I yet sing, though in imperfect praise.
But seeing that for this second canticle The paper planned is full to the last page, The bridle of art must needs constrain my will.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
If for my writing, Reader, I'd more space, I'd sing -- at least in part -- those sweets my heart Might aye have drunk nor e'er known weariness;
But since I've filled the pages set apart For this my second cantique, I'll pursue No further, bridled by the curb of art.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]
If, reader, I had greater space for writing I would yet partly sing the sweet draught which never would have sated me.
but since all the pages ordained for this second canticle are filled, the curb of art lets me go no further.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]
Reader, if I had space to write more words, I'd sing, at least in part, of that sweet draught which never could have satisfied my thirst;
But now I have completed every page planned for my poem's second canticle -- I am checked by the bridle of my art!
[tr. Musa (1981)]
If, reader, I had room to write more, My poem could still not tell you everything About the sweet drink of which I could never have had enough.
But since all the pages designed for this Second part of the poem have been filled, The rules of art stop me at this point.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
If, reader, I had ampler space in which to write, I'd sing -- though incompletely -- that sweet draught for which my thirst was limitless;
but since all of the pages pre-disposed for this, the second canticle, are full, the curb of art will not let me continue.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]
Reader, if I had more space to write, I would speak, partially at least, about that sweet drink, which would never have sated me: but because all the pages determined for the second Canticle are full, the curb of art lets me go no further.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
If, reader, I had more space to write, I would continue to sing in part the sweet drink that could never satiate me, but because all the pages are filled that have been laid out for this second canticle, the bridle of art permits me to go no further.
[tr. Durling (2003)]
If, reader, I'd more space in which to write, then I should sing in part about that drink, so sweet I’d never have my fill of it.
However, since these pages now are full, prepared by rights to take the second song, the reins of art won't let me pass beyond.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
If, reader, I had more ample space to write, I should sing at least in part the sweetness of the drink that never would have sated me,
but, since all the sheets readied for this second canticle are full, the curb of art lets me proceed no farther.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
O reader, if I had the space to tell you More, I'd sing something about that sweetest Drink, no quantity of which could ever
End my thirst, but because the pages meant For this canto are already filled, my art prevents me, Affirming limits I am forced to meet.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Like a trained surgeon who is careful where he cuts, parents, too, need to become skilled in the use of words. Because words are like knives. They can inflict, if not physical, many painful emotional wounds.
Haim Ginott (1922-1973) Israeli-American school teacher, child psychologist, psychotherapist [b. Haim Ginzburg] Between Parent and Child, Introduction (2003 ed.) [with A. Ginott and H. W. Goddard]
(Source)
Mystical explanations are considered deep; the truth is, they are not even shallow.
[Die mystischen Erklärungen gelten für tief; die Wahrheit ist, dass sie noch nicht einmal oberflächlich sind.]
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) German philosopher and poet The Gay Science [Die fröhliche Wissenschaft], Book 3, § 126 (1882) [tr. Nauckhoff (2001)]
(Source)
Also known as La Gaya Scienza, The Joyful Wisdom, or The Joyous Science.
Where this will end? In the Abyss, one may prophecy; whither all Delusions are, at all moments, traveling; where this Delusion has now arrived. For if there be a Faith, from of old, it is this, as we often repeat, that no Lie can live for ever. The very Truth has to change its vesture, from time to time; and be born again. But all Lies have sentence of death written down against them, and Heaven’s Chancery itself; and, slowly or fast, advance incessantly towards their hour.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian The French Revolution: A History, Part 1, Book 6, ch. 3 (1.6.3) (1837)
(Source)
Carlyle is speaking of the delusion that the wealthy and land-owners of pre-Revolutionary France could forever oppress their tenants with taxes and rent without finally driving them to bloody revolution.
A core phrase here was latched onto by Martin Luther King, Jr., who incorporated it as standard fare in his speeches in the mid- and late 1960s.
We shall overcome, because Carlyle is right, "No lie can live forever."
[Examples: 1, 2, 3, 4]
If anything does happen to me, I shall fall with a contented and prepared mind; and, indeed, death cannot be disgraceful to a brave man, nor premature to one of consular rank, nor miserable to a wise man.
[Si quid obtigerit, aequo animo paratoque moriar. nam neque turpis1mors forti viro potest accidere neque immatura consulari nec misera sapienti.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher Orationes in Catilinam [Catilinarian Orations], No. 4, § 2, cl. 3 (4.2.3) (63-12-05 BC) [tr. Yonge (1856), 4.3]
(Source)
if any thing should fall out amiss, I shall be contented and ready to die: For Death can never come dishonourable to a Valiant Person, nor untimely to him that is Consular, nor unfortunate to a Wise man.
[tr. Wase (1671), 4.3]
If I am doomed to fall a sacrifice in your cause, I am resigned to my fate. To a well-prepared spirit death can never be dishonourable; to a consul never premature; to a wise man it never can be an evil.
[tr. Sydney (1795)]
If anything shall happen to me, I shall die with a mind contented and prepared. For neither can a disgraceful death happen to a brave man, nor an untimely one to a man of consular rank, nor a wretched one to a wise man.
[tr. Mongan (1879), 4.2]
If any (thing) shall have befallen, I shall die with an equal and prepared mind. For neither a base death is able to happen to a brave man, nor an immature (death) to a consular (man), nor a wretched (death) to a wise man.
[tr. Underwood (1885), 4.2]
If any (thing) shall have befallen, I shall die with an equal [a calm] and prepared mind. For neither a base death is able to happen to a brave man, nor an immature (one) to a consular (man), nor a wretched (one) to a wise (man).
[tr. Dewey (1916), 4.2]
Death cannot be dishonorable to the brave man, or premature to him who has held high office, or lamentable to the philosopher.
[Source]
There is nothing I hate more than haggling. It is simply a petty and brazen business: Two parties will negotiate and argue for an hour only to walk away from what they have solemnly agreed to over five pennies’ worth of overcharge.
[Il n’est rien que je haysse comme à marchander : c’est un pur commerce de trichoterie et d’impudence. Apres une heure de debat et de barguignage, l’un et l’autre abandonne sa parolle et ses sermens pour cinq sous d’amendement.]
Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) French essayist Essays, Book 1, ch. 14 “The Taste of Good and Bad Things Depends Mostly on the Opinion We Have of Them [Que le goust des biens et des maux despend en bonne partie de l’opinion que nous en avons]” (1572) (1.14) (1595) [tr. HyperEssays (2023)]
(Source)
Though this chapter was written around 1572 for the 1580 edition, this text was added for the 1588 edition. The chapter as a whole was numbered ch. 14 in the 1580 and 1588 editions, moved to ch. 40 for the 1595 ed. Most modern translations use the original numbering.
There is nothing I hate more then driving of bargains: It is a meere commerce of dodging and impudencie. After an houres debating and paltring, both parties will goe from their wordes and oathes for the getting or saving of a shilling.
[tr. Florio (1603), ch. 40]
There is nothing I hate so much, as driving a Bargain; ’tis a meer Traffick of Couzenage and Impudence; where after an Hours cheapning and dogding, both Parties abandon their Word and Oath for Five Sols profit, or abatement.
[tr. Cotton (1686), ch. 40]
There is nothing I hate so much as driving a bargain; 'tis a mere traffic of cozenage and impudence, where, after an hour's cheapening and hesitating, both parties abandon their word and oath for five sols' abatement.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877), ch. 40]
There is nothing that I hate so much as haggling; it is a mere interchange of cheating and impudence. Afer an hour of wrangling and chaffering, one and the other side sacrifices his word and his oaths for a charge of five sous.
[tr. Ives (1925)]
There is nothing I hate like bargaining. It is a pure interchange of trickery and shamelessness: after an hour of disputing and haggling both men go back on their word and their oath for a gain of five sous.
[tr. Frame (1943)]
There is nothing I hate more than bargaining. It is a pure exchange of trickery and effrontery: after hours of arguing and haggling both sides go back on their pledged word to gain a few pence more.
[tr. Screech (1987)]
He was not a strong-minded man; but he had one quality which is almost as valuable a safeguard against temptation as strength of mind — namely, timidity.
F. Anstey (1856-1934) English novelist and journalist (pseud. of Thomas Anstey Guthrie) Tourmalin’s Time Cheques, Prologue (1885)
(Source)
Death,
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveler returns.
There is no particular evidence that Shakespeare ever read Catullus, but other ancients (e.g., Seneca) quoted these lines from this Carmina. At the same time, post-Shakespearean translators may have been themselves influenced by the Bard's lines in their translations.
I don’t think he had known much demonstrative love in his childhood and what a child doesn’t receive he can seldom later give.
P. D. James (1920-2014) British mystery writer [Phyllis Dorothy James White] Time To Be in Earnest: A Fragment of Autobiography, “Diary 1997” (1999)
(Source)
Writing of her father. Often just the last half of this quote is given ("What a child ...").
It may be that everything we do is determined by some grand unified theory. If that theory has determined that we shall die by hanging, then we shall not drown. But you would have to be awfully sure that you were destined for the gallows to put to sea in a small boat during a storm. I have noticed that even people who claim that everything is predestined and that we can do nothing to change it look before they cross the road. Maybe it’s just that those who don’t look don’t survive to tell the tale.
Stephen Hawking (1942-2018) English physicist, author
“Is Everything Determined?” lecture, Sigma Club Seminar, Cambridge University (1990-04)
(Source)
Reprinted in Black Holes and Baby Universes, and Other Essays, ch. 12 (1994). Hawking's thesis that the universe is actually deterministic, but too complex to be predictable, so acting as though free will exists is useful socially and, like fluid dynamics equations, satisfactory for most purposes.
It’s a good thing when a man is different from your image of him. It shows he isn’t a type. If he were, it would be the end of him as a man. But if you can’t place him in a category, it means that at least a part of him is what a human being ought to be. He has risen above himself, he has a grain of immortality.
Boris Pasternak (1890-1960) Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator Doctor Zhivago [До́ктор Жива́го], Part 2, ch. 9 “Varykino,” sec. 4 [Yuri] (1955) [tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
It’s a good thing when a man is different from your image of him. It shows he isn’t a type. If he were, it would be the end of him as a man. But if you can’t place him in a category, it means that at least a part of him is what a human being ought to be. He has a grain of immortality.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]
It’s good when a man deceives your expectations, when he doesn’t correspond to the preconceived notion of him. To belong to a type is the end of a man, his condemnation. If he doesn’t fall under any category, if he’s not representative, half of what’s demanded of him is there. He’s free of himself, he has achieved a grain of immortality.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]
It is unclear if this is a traditional German saying, or was coined by Lessing. There are parallels in other languages (as well as German), but I did not find a German reference in these words that predates this play.
Everything has been said, and we have come too late, now that men have been living and thinking for seven thousand years and more.
[Tout est dit, et l’on vient trop tard depuis plus de sept mille ans qu’il y a des hommes qui pensent.]
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],” § 1 (1.1) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
(Source)
Opening line of the book. La Bruyère's timeline is that of medieval scholars who calculated, from the Bible, that the age of the world to be only several thousand years old.
We are come too late, after above seven thousand years that there have been men, and men have thought, to say any thing which has not been said already.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]
After above seven thousand Years, that there have been Men, and Men have thought, we come too late to say any thing which has not been said already.
[Curll ed. (1713)]
We are come too late, by several thousand Years, to say any thing new in Morality.
[Browne ed. (1752)]
After above seven thousand years, during which there have been men who have thought, we come too late to say anything that has not been said already.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
Whoever wants to know the heart and mind of America had better learn baseball, the rules and realities of the game — and do it by watching first some high school or small-town teams.
Jacques Barzun (1907-2012) French-American historian, educator, polymath God’s Country and Mine, Part 2, ch. 8 (1954)
(Source)
Advanced cultures are usually sophisticated enough, or have been sophisticated enough at some point in their pasts, to realize that foxes shouldn’t be relied on to guard henhouses.
Jane Jacobs (1916-2006) American-Canadian journalist, author, urban theorist, activist Dark Age Ahead, ch. 6 (2004)
(Source)
We recognize too that beasts have sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, often more keenly than we have. Or take strength, vigour, muscular power, swift and easy movement of the body, in all of which we excel some of them, equal some, and are surpassed by some. We are certainly in a common class with the beasts; every action of animal life is concerned with seeking bodily pleasure and avoiding pain.
[Videre autem atque audire, et olfactu, gustu, tactu corporalia sentire posse bestias, et acrius plerasque quam nos, cernimus et fatemur. Adde vires et valentiam firmitatemque membrorum, et celeritates facillimosque corporis motus, quibus omnibus quasdam earum superamus, quibusdam aequamur, a nonnullis etiam vincimur. Genus tamen ipsum rerum est nobis certe commune cum belluis: jam vero appetere voluptates corporis, et vitare molestias, ferinae vitae omnis actio est.]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus] On Free Choice of the Will [De Libero Arbitrio Voluntatis], Book 1, ch. 8 / sec. 18 (1.8.18) (AD 288) [tr. Mark Pontifex (1955)]
(Source)
Furthermore, beasts see, hear, and can perceive corporeal things by touch, taste, and smell more keenly than we. Add to this energy, power, strength of limb, speed, and agility of bodily motion. In all of these faculties we excel some, equal others, and to some are inferior. Things of this sort we clearly share with beasts. Indeed, to seek the pleasures of the body and to avoid harm constitute the entire activity of a beast's life.
[tr. Benjamin/Hackstaff (1964), ch. 8, sec. 62]
We recognize and acknowledge that animals can see and hear, and can sense material objects by touch, taste, and smell, often better than we can. Consider also strength, health, and bodily vigor, ease and swiftness of motion. In all of these respects we are superior to some animals, equal to others, and inferior to quite a few. Yet we have these sorts of traits in common with animals, though life of the lower animals consists entirely in the pursuit of physical pleasures and the avoidance of pains.
[tr. Williams (1993)]
We take all things in a minor key as we grow older. There are few majestic passages in the later acts of life’s opera. Ambition takes a less ambitious aim. Honor becomes more reasonable and conveniently adapts itself to circumstances. And love — love dies. “Irreverence for the dreams of youth” soon creeps like a killing frost upon our hearts. The tender shoots and the expanding flowers are nipped and withered, and of a vine that yearned to stretch its tendrils round the world there is left but a sapless stump.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome] Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Being In Love” (1886)
(Source)
BALTHAZAR: Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey, nonny nonny.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet Much Ado About Nothing, Act 2, sc. 3, l. 64ff (2.3.64-71) (1598)
"Hey, nonny nonny" was a nonsense refrain popular in English music during the Elizabethan era; in context here, it means stop grieving over the guy that dumped you and put that effort instead into some merry-making and song. Music historian Ross Duffin believes the form of Balthazar's tune fits a popular song of the Tudor period, "The Lusty Gallant."
Every day I add to the list of things I refuse to discuss. The wiser the man, the longer the list.
[Tous les jours j’accrois la liste des choses dont je ne parle plus. Le plus philosophe est celui dont la liste est la plus longue.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch) Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionnée], Part 2 “Characters and Anecdotes [Caractères et Anecdotes],” ch. 7 (1795) [tr. Parmée (2003)]
(Source)
Quoting someone reacting to a request to expound on "various public and private abuses" he had received.
A good education is not so much one which prepares a man to succeed in the world, as one which enables him to sustain a failure.
Bernard Iddings Bell (1886-1958) American author, Episcopal priest, chaplain, academic, lecturer
“Know How vs. Know Why,” Life Magazine (1950-10-16)
(Source)
Yes, I am personally the victim of deferred dreams, of blasted hopes, but in spite of that I close today by saying I still have a dream, because, you know, you can’t give up in life. If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream.
Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968) American clergyman, civil rights leader, social activist, preacher
“A Christmas Sermon on Peace,” Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta (1967-12-24)
(Source)
Broadcast by CBC Radio as the final of King's Massey Lectures, "Conscience for Change." Collected in Conscience for Change, republished after his assassination as The Trumpet of Conscience (1968).
Standing up to your government can mean standing up for your country.
Bill Moyers (b. 1934) American journalist and public commentator
Closing comments, NOW (PBS) (2003-02-28)
(Source)
Regarding patriotism and opposition to the impending war in Iraq. Moyers quoted the comments in a speech to National Conference for Media Reform (St Louis) (2005-05-15); the phrase is often cited to that occasion.
Conversation is but carving;
Carve for all, yourself is starving:
Give no more to every Guest,
Than he’s able to digest;
Give him always of the Prime;
And but little at a Time. Carve to all but just enough:
Let them neither starve nor stuff:
And, that you may have your Due,
Let your Neighbours carve for you.
Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) English writer and churchman
“An Epistle to a Lady Who Desired the Author to Write Some Verses Upon Her in the Heroic Style,” ll. 123-132 (1732)
(Source)
Often rendered with the first line ending in an exclamation point, and the second line missing.
Put not your trust in money, but put your money in trust.
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (1809-1894) American poet, essayist, scholar
Article (1857-12), “The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table,” Atlantic Monthly (Source)
Collected in The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, ch. 2 (1858).
The body is an instrument which only gives off music when it is used as a body. Always an orchestra, and just as music traverses walls, so sensuality traverses the body and reaches up to ecstasy.
Anaïs Nin (1903-1977) Catalan-Cuban-French author, diarist
Diary (1935-04)
(Source)
I could no longer reconcile the claims of faith with the facts of life. In particular, I could no longer explain how there can be a good and all-powerful God actively involved with this world, given the state of things. For many people who inhabit this planet, life is a cesspool of misery and suffering. I came to a point where I simply could not believe that there is a good and kindly disposed Ruler who is in charge of it.
Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) American Biblical scholar, author God’s Problem, ch. 1 (2008)
(Source)
I lay it down as a general rule, Harriet, that if a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. If she can hesitate as to ‘Yes,’ she ought to say ‘No’ directly.
Jane Austen (1775-1817) English author Emma, Vol. 1, ch. 7 [Emma] (1816)
(Source)
“If it had grown up,” she said to herself, “it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.” And she began thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as pigs.
Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) English writer and mathematician [pseud. of Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson]
