Preachers say, Do as I say, not as I do. But if the physician had the same disease upon him that I have, and he should bid me do one thing, and himself do quite another, could I believe him?
John Selden (1584-1654) English jurist, legal scholar, antiquarian, polymath Table Talk, § 110.13 “Preaching” (1689)
(Source)
To make our idea of morality centre on forbidden acts is to defile the imagination and to introduce into our judgments of our fellow-men a secret element of gusto.
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) Scottish essayist, novelist, poet
Essay (1888-12), “A Christmas Sermon,” sec. 1, Scribner’s Magazine, Vol. 4
(Source)
Originally written in the winter of 1887-88. Collected in Across the Plains, ch. 12 (1892).
I value more than I despise My tendency to sin,
Because it helps me sympathize With all my tempted kin.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) American author, poet, temperance advocate, spiritualist
Poem (1906), “Understood,” st. 1, New Thought Pastels (Source)
When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well
My future acts, and could each one foretell; Without His will no act of mine was wrought;
Is it then just to punish me in hell?
This quatrain is in the Calcutta manuscript, but not the Bodleian.
Alternate translations:
What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 84; # 78 for 3rd, 4th, and 5th editions]
When God built up my body out of clay, he knew beforehand the fruit of all my deeds. It is not in defiance of his will that I a sinner have sinned. Why then for me does nether hell await?
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 112]
When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well
My future acts, and could each one foretell; 'Twas he who did my sins predestinate,
Yet thinks it just to punish me in hell.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 46]
'Twas Allah who engraved upon my Clay
The Laws I was thereafter to obey, And will He cast me into Raging Fire,
Because my Actions answer to His Sway?
[tr. Garner (1887), 4.5]
Almighty Potter, on whose wheel of blue
The world is fashioned and is broken too, Why to the race of men is heaven so dire?
In what, O wheel, have I offended you?
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]
God, when He mixed and moulded our being's clay,
Had e'en foreknowledge of all we should do and say; Without His order no sin of mine was aye;
Then why should He doom me to burn on the Judgment Day?
[tr. Payne (1898), # 190]
God, when he fashioned the clay of my body
Knew by my making what would come from it (Since) there is no sin of mine without his knowledge
Why should he seek to burn me at the day of resurrection?
[tr. Heron-Allen (1897), "# 26=85" Calcutta]
God, when he fashioned the clay of my body,
Knew by my making what would come of it; (Since) there is no sin of mine without his order
Why should he seek to burn me at the Day of Resurrection?
[tr. Heron-Allen (1899), #78a, Calcutta]
When God of our existence shaped the clay.
He knew our actions would be as His sway; Without His mandate was no sin of mine,
Then why doom me to burn on Judgment Day?
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 148]
When, bending low, God moulded me from clay,
Incontrovertibly my life was ordered:
Without his order I abstain from crime.
Why should I burn, then, on His Judgement Day?
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967), # 82]
Have no fear of robbers or murderers. They are external dangers, petty dangers. We should fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices the real murderers. The great dangers are within us. Why worry about what threatens our heads or our purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.
[Ne craignons jamais les voleurs ni les meurtriers. Ce sont là les dangers du dehors, les petits dangers. Craignons-nous nous-mêmes. Les préjugés, voilà les voleurs; les vices, voilà les meurtriers. Les grands dangers sont au dedans de nous. Qu’importe ce qui menace notre tête ou notre bourse! Ne songeons qu’à ce qui menace notre âme.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 7 (1.1.7) [Bp. Myriel] (1862) [tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
(Source)
Have no fear of robbers or murderers. Such dangers are without, and are but petty. We should fear ourselves. Prejudices are teh real robbers; vices the real murderers. The great dangers are within us. What mater it what threatens our heads or our purses? Let us think only of what threatens our souls.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]
Never let us fear robbers or murderers. These are external and small dangers; let us fear ourselves; prejudices are the real robbers, vices the true murderers. The great dangers are within ourselves. Let us not trouble about what threatens our head or purse, and only think of what threatens our soul.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
Let us never fear robbers nor murderers. Those are dangers from without, petty dangers. Let us fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices are the real murderers. The great dangers lie within ourselves. What matters it what threatens our head or our purse! Let us think only of that which threatens our soul.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
We must never fear robbers or murderers. They are dangers from outside, small dangers. It is ourselves we have to fear. Prejudice is the real robber, and vice the real murderer. Why should we be troubled by a threat to our person or our pocket? What we have to beware of is the threat to our souls.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
Never fear robbers or murderers. Thiose are dangers that come from without. Small dangers. Let us fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers. Vices are the real murderers. The great dangers are within us. Never mind what endangers our life or our purse! Let's be mindful only of what endangers our soul.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.
[Cette âme est pleine d’ombre, le péché s’y commet. Le coupable n’est pas celui qui y fait le péché, mais celui qui y a fait l’ombre.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 4 (1.1.4) [Bishop Myriel] (1862) [tr. Wilbour (1862)]
(Source)
This soul is full of darkness, and sin is committed, but the guilty person is not the man who commits the sin, but he who produces the darkness.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
This soul is full of shadow; sin is therein committed. The guilty one is not the person who has committed the sin, but the person who has created the shadow.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
The soul in darkness sins, but the real sinner is he who caused the darkness.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
In any benighted soul -- that's where sin will be committed. It's not he who commits the sin that's to blame, but he who causes the darkness to prevail.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
To be a saint is the exception. To be a good man is the rule. Err, weaken and sin, but be among the good.
[Être un saint, c’est l’exception ; être un juste, c’est la règle. Errez, défaillez, péchez, mais soyez des justes.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 4 (1.1.4) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
Part of the short summary of Bishop Myriel's teachings. (Source (French)). Alternate translations:
To be a saint is the exception; to be upright is the rule. Err, falter, sin, but be upright.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]
To be a saint is the exception, to be a just man is the rule. Err, fail, sin, but be just.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
To be a saint is the exception; to be an upright man is the rule. Err, fall, sin if you will, but be upright.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
To be a saint is to be an exception; to be a true man is the rule. Err, fail, sin if you must, but be upright.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
Eternal torment some sour wits foretell
For those who follow wine and love too well, — Fear not, for God were left alone in Heaven
If all the lovely lovers burnt in hell.
Omar Khayyám (1048-1123) Persian poet, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer [عمر خیام] Rubáiyát [رباعیات], Bod. # 127 [tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]
(Source)
I am fairly certain I am conflating two different quatrains below, Bodleian 127 (which mentions hypocrisy in the second line), and one not found in that manuscript (see the Whinfield translations). But both conclude with the sentiment that if lovers and drinkers are to be sent to Hell, then Heaven will be empty. Further discernment is left as an exercise for the reader.
This quatrain(s) is also unique in FitzGerald only offering a single go at translation, and that in just the 2nd ed.
Alternate translations:
If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band
Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise
Were empty as the hollow of one's hand.
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd Ed (1868), # 65; this does not appear in other editions before or after]
Folk say that there is a hell. This is a vain error, in which no trust should be placed, for if there were a hell for lovers and for bibbers of wine, why heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty as the hollow of my hand.
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 131]
If wine be an unpardonable sin,
God help Khayyam and his wine-bibbing kin! If all poor drouthy souls be lodged elsewhere,
Heaven's plains must be as bare as maiden's chin.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 33]
Drunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare,
Believe it not, 'tis but a foolish scare; Heaven will be empty as this hand of mine,
If none who love good drink find entrance there.
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 67]
To drain the cup, to hover round the fair,
Can hypocritic arts with these compare? If all who love and drink are going wrong,
There's many a wight of heaven may well despair!
[tr. Winfield (1883), #381]
With Tales of future pains men threaten me,
They say there is a Hell in store for thee; -- Love, if there is a Hell for all like us,
Their Heaven as empty as my Palm will be.
[tr. Garner (1887), 1.19]
To drink wine and consort with a company of the beautiful
is better than practising the hypocrisy of the zealot; if the lover and the drunkard are doomed to hell,
then no one will see the face of heaven.
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 127]
Better to drink, with fair maids wander free.
Than in deceit to practice piety; If sots and lovers all in Hell will be.
Then who would wish the face of Heaven to see?
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 425]
Tis better here with Love and Wine to sit
Than to become the zealous hypocrite; If all who love or drink are doom'd to Hell,
On whom shall Heaven bestow a benefit?
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 127]
Drinking wine and wooing fair ones
Is a better thing than the hypocrisy of fanatics. If all who drink wine were to go to Hell
No one would then behold Paradise.
[tr. Rosen (1928), # 256]
Better to drink and dance with rosy fairs,
Than cheat the folk with doubtful pious wares; Tho' drunkards, so they say, are doomed to hell,
To go to heaven with cheats who ever cares?
[tr. Tirtha (1941), # 10.88]
They say lovers and drunkards go to hell,
A controversial dictum not easy to accept: If the lover and drunkard are for hell,
Tomorrow Paradise will be empty.
[tr. Avery/Heath-Stubbs (1979), # 87]
The real sin against life is to abuse and destroy beauty, even one’s own — even more, one’s own, for that has been put in our care and we are responsible for its well-being.
Katherine Anne Porter (1890-1980) American journalist, essayist, author, political activist [b. Callie Russell Porter] Ship of Fools, Part 3 [Freytag] (1962)
(Source)
Let Tom and Jane not think, because they see one man is picking pockets and another is offering all his goods to charity,
that they can judge their neighbors with God’s eyes:
for the pious man may fall, and the thief may rise.
[Non creda donna Berta e ser Martino, per vedere un furare, altro offerere, vederli dentro al consiglio divino;
ché quel può surgere, e quel può cadere.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 13, l. 139ff (13.139-142) [Thomas Aquinas] (1320) [tr. Ciardi (1970)]
(Source)
Berta and Martino were common names in Dante's era, and stand in for "ordinary people" (with a sarcastic hint of pretension by giving them minor titles). Most translators use a straight translation of the names to Bertha and Martin; others change them to something more modern to reflect their everyman status.
The pious man
May fail ; the Penitent, altho' by spoil He liv'd, may purchase Heav'n by arduous toil Ere death: it is not our's their fate to scan.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 24]
Seeing one steal,
Another bring, his offering to the priest, Let not Dame Bertha and Sir Martin thence Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry:
For one of these may rise, the other fall.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Let not Nun Bertha and Saint Martin try, Seeing one offer, and another steal, The counsel of the heaven from that to tell:
For this may rise again, and that may fall.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think, Seeing one steal, another offering make, To see them in the arbitrament divine;
For one may rise, and fall the other may.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin deem, for seeing one steal, another make offerings, that they are seeing them within the Divine counsel; for that one may be exalted and this may fall.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Let not Dame Bertha nor Sir Martin deem, Because they see one rob, another pray, That they can pry within the will supreme;
For one can rise, and one can fall away.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Let not dame Bertha and master Martin, seeing one rob, and another make offering, believe to see them within the Divine counsel: for the one may rise and the other may fall.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Let not Dame Bertha or Squire Martin think, if they perceive one steal and one make offering, they therefore see them as in the divine counsel; for the one yet may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin, when they see one rob and another make an offering, think they see them within the divine counsel; for the one may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Let no Dame Bertha or Sir Martin deem, Because they see one steal and one give all, They see as divine forethought seéth them;
For the one yet may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Let Jack and Jill not think they see so far That, seeing this man pious, that a thief, They see them such as in God's sight they are,
For one may rise, the other come to grief.
[tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
Let not dame Bertha and squire Martin, if they see one steal and one make offering, believe to see them within the Divine Counsel: for the one may rise and the other may fall.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]
Let not every Bertha and Martin think Because they see one a thief, another respectable, That they see how they are in the eyes of God;
For one may rise, and the other one may fall.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Let not Dame Bertha or Master Martin think that they have shared God’s Counsel when they see one rob and see another who donates:
the last may fall, the other may be saved.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]
No Mr. or Miss Know-It-All should think, when they see one man steal and one give alms that they are seeing them through God's own eyes,
for one may yet rise up, the other fall.
[tr. Musa (1984)]
Let not dame Bertha and messer Martin believe, because they see one stealing, another offering, that they see them within God’s counsel, for that one can rise up, and this one can fall.
[tr. Durling (2011)]
Do not let Jack and Jill think, that if they see someone steal or another make offering they therefore see them as Divine Wisdom does, since the one may still rise, and the other fall.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And so when Mrs Smith and Mr Jones see one man steal, another offer alms, don’t let them think they see this in God’s plan.
The thief may rise, the other take a fall.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin, when they see one steal and another offer alms, think that they behold them with God's wisdom,
for the first may still rise up, the other fall.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Let not Mrs. Judy and Mister John, Seeing one man steal but another before The altar with offerings, think one is sinful, The other's in Heaven -- for people rise and fall.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
I have no wish to remember everything. There are many things in most men’s lives that had better be forgotten. There is that time, many years ago, when we did not act quite as honorably, quite as uprightly, as we perhaps should have done — that unfortunate deviation from the path of strict probity we once committed, and in which, more unfortunate still, we were found out — that act of folly, of meanness, of wrong. Ah, well! we paid the penalty, suffered the maddening hours of vain remorse, the hot agony of shame, the scorn, perhaps, of those we loved. Let us forget.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome] Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Memory” (1886)
(Source)
What pleasures habitual wrongdoing provides for men without principle or sense of shame, when they have escaped punishment and found themselves given a free hand!
[O consuetudo peccandi, quantam habes iucunditatem improbis et audacibus, cum poena afuit et licentia consecuta est!]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher In Verrem [Against Verres; Verrine Orations], Action 2, Book 3, ch. 76 / sec. 176 (2.3.76.176) (70 BC) [tr. Greenwood (1928)]
(Source)
O you habit of sinning, what delight you afford to the wicked and the audacious, when chastisement is afar off, and when impunity attends you!
[tr. Yonge (1903)]
Alas, the habit of evil-doing! what pleasure it affords to the depraved and the shameless, when punishment is in abeyance, and has been replaced by license.
[Source (1906)]
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)
To discern faults, though they be in fashion: Though Vice be clothed in cloth of gold, yet a good man will still know it. It is to no purpose for it to be apparelled in gold, it can never so well disguise it self but that it will be perceived to be of iron. It would cloak it self with the nobility of its Adherents, but it is never stript of its baseness, nor the misery of its slavery.
[Conocer los defectos, por más autorizados que estén. No desconozca la entereza el vicio, aunque se revista de brocado; corónase tal vez de oro, pero no por eso puede disimular el yerro. No pierde la esclavitud de su vileza aunque se desmienta con la nobleza del sujeto.]
Baltasar Gracián y Morales (1601-1658) Spanish Jesuit priest, writer, philosopher The Art of Worldly Wisdom [Oráculo Manual y Arte de Prudencia], § 186 (1647) [Flesher ed. (1685)]
(Source)
Recognise Faults, however high placed. Integrity cannot mistake vice even when clothed in brocade or perchance crowned with gold, but will not be able to hide its character for all that. Slavery does not lose its vileness, however it vaunt the nobility of its lord and master.
[tr. Jacobs (1892)]
Know what is evil, however much worshiped it may be. Let the man of intelligence not fail to recognize it, even if clothed in brocade, or crowned with gold, because it cannot thereby hide its bane, -- slavery does not lose its infamy, however noble the master.
[tr. Fischer (1937)]
Know when something is a defect, even if it looks like the opposite.
Honesty should be able to recognize vice even when it dresses in brocade. Sometimes it wears a crown of gold, but even then it cannot hide its iron. Slavery is just as vile when disguised by high position.
[tr. Maurer (1992)]
So up I got in anger, And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad.
And, “One thing there’s no getting by — I’ve been a wicked girl.” said I;
“But if I can’t be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!”
Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) American poet
“The Penitent”, st. 3, A Few Figs from Thistles (1921)
(Source)
According to Oscar Wilde, all that experience teaches us is that history repeats itself, and that the sin we do once and with loathing we will do many times and with pleasure. But the neurotic knows that the sin he does once and with loathing he will do many times and with loathing.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 8 (1963)
(Source)
All that [experience] really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, and that the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy.
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) Irish poet, wit, dramatist The Picture of Dorian Gray, ch. 4 (1891)
(Source)
The passage also occurs in ch. 3 of the original Lippincott's Monthly Magazine (1890-06) version.
As extracted into Oscariana and epigram form (e.g.), it is given in the present tense:
All that it really demonstrates is that our future will be the same as our past, and that the sin we have done once, and with loathing, we shall do many times, and with joy.
Some think they see their own hope to advance tied to their neighbor’s fall, and thus they long to see him cast down from his eminence;
Some fear their power, preferment, honor, fame will suffer by another’s rise, and thus, irked by his good, desire his ruin and shame;
And some at the least injury catch fire and are consumed by thoughts of vengeance; thus, their neighbor’s harm becomes their chief desire.
[E’ chi, per esser suo vicin soppresso, spera eccellenza, e sol per questo brama ch’el sia di sua grandezza in basso messo;
è chi podere, grazia, onore e fama teme di perder perch’altri sormonti, onde s’attrista sì che ’l contrario ama;
ed è chi per ingiuria par ch’aonti, sì che si fa de la vendetta ghiotto, e tal convien che ’l male altrui impronti.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 17, l. 115ff (17.115-123) (1314) [tr. Ciardi (1961)]
(Source)
Virgil explains to Dante how "bad" love -- love for self, love of another's harm -- can manifest as Pride, Envy, or Wrath toward others, the sins addressed in the first three tiers of Purgatory.
Those first the taints, that to their Neighbours' fall
Trust for distinction on this Earthly Ball, In talents, wealth, or fame, and feed their pride
By the sad sight of others' hopes depress'd,
And o'er their ruin lift a lofty crest, With Venom from the fount of Good supply'd.
The next that feel this sullen Stygian flame,
Are those, that fear to lose their wealth or fame, Or any gift, by bounteous Heav'n assign'd;
And long possess'd of Fortune's turning wheel,
In its ascent another name reveal, That threats to leave them, and their hopes behind.
Another evil thus becomes their good,
And feeds their black desires with Demon food. -- The third are they, who, with the sense of wrong,
Burn inward, or with fell, vindictive Wrath
Pursue their brethren to the Cave of Death, By love of Pelf, or fiend-like Frenzy stung.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 28-30]
There is who hopes (his neighbour’s worth deprest,) Preeminence himself, and coverts hence For his own greatness that another fall.
There is who so much fears the loss of power, Fame, favour, glory (should his fellow mount Above him), and so sickens at the thought,
He loves their opposite: and there is he, Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame That he doth thirst for vengeance, and such needs
Must doat on other’s evil.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
There is, in order neighbour to suppress, Who would excel, himself, his sole desire Grandeur, that sees another in the mire:
There is who power, grace, and honour, fame, Still fears to lose, because the rest surpass, Grows sad, and loves the counteracting cause:
There is who, for injurious affront, Revenge desires, thirsts for another's pain, And hence to ill of others must attain.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
There are, who, by abasement of their neighbour, Hope to excel, and therefore only long That from his greatness he may be cast down;
There are, who power, grace, honour, and renown Fear they may lose because another rises, Thence are so sad that the reverse they love;
And there are those whom injury seems to chafe, So that it makes them greedy for revenge, And such must needs shape out another's harm.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
There is who, through his neighbour being kept down, hopes for excellence, and only for this reason yearns that he may be from his greatness brought low. There is who fears to lose power, grace, honour, and fame, in case another mounts up, wherefore he grows so sad that he loves the contrary. And there is who through injury appears so to take shame that he becomes gluttonous of vengeance; and such an one it behoves that he put forward another's ill.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
There is, who through his neighbour's ruin, so Hopeth pre-eminence, who hence doth call That he from grandeur may be cast down low.
There is, who fears to lose power, grace, and all Honour and fame, because that others rise. Which grieves him so that he desires their fall.
There is, who seems so hurt by injuries, That he on vengeance greedily doth brood; And such a one another's ill must prize.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
There is he who hopes to excel through the abasement of his neighbor, and only longs that from his greatness he may be brought low. There is he who fears loss of power, favor, honor, fame, because another rises; whereat he is so saddened that he loves the opposite. And there is he who seems so outraged by injury that it makes him gluttonous of vengeance, and such a one must needs coin evil for others.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
There is he who through his neighbour's abasement hopes to excel, and solely for this desires that he be cast down from his greatness; there is he who fears to lose power, favour, honour and fame because another is exalted, wherefore he groweth sad so that he loves the contrary; and there is he who seems to be so shamed through being wronged, that he becomes greedy of vengeance, and such must needs seek another's hurt.
[tr. Okey (1901)]
There is he that hopes to excel by the abasement of his neighbour and for that sole reason longs that from his greatness he may be brought low; there is he that fears to lose power, favour, honour, and fame because another surpasses, by which he is so aggrieved that he loves the contrary; and there is he that feels himself so disgraced by insult that he becomes greedy of vengeance, and such a one must needs contrive another's harm.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
There is, who through his neighbour's overthrow Hopes to excel, and only for that cause Longs that he may from greatness be brought low.
There is, who fears power, favour, fame to lose Because another mounts; wherefore his lot So irks, he loves the opposite to choose.
And there is, who through injury grows so hot From shame, with greed of vengeance he is burned, And so must needs another's ill promote.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Some hope their neighbour’s ruin may divert His glory to themselves, and this sole hope Prompts them to drag his greatness in the dirt;
Some, in their fear to lose fame, favour, scope, And honour, should another rise to power, Wishing the worst, sit glumly there and mope;
And some there are whose wrongs have turned them sour, So that they thirst for vengeance, and this passion Fits them to plot some mischief any hour.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]
There is he that hopes to excel by the abasement of his neighbor, and solely for this desires that he be cast down from greatness. There is he that fears to lose power, favor, honor, and fame, because another is exalted, by which he is so saddened that he loves the contrary. And there is he who seems so outraged by injury that he becomes greedy of vengeance, and such a one must needs contrive another's hurt.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]
There is the man who sees his own success connect to his neighbor's downfall; thus, he longs to see him fall from eminence.
Next, he who fears to lose honor and fame, power and favor, if his neighbor rise: vexed by this good, he wishes for the words.
Finally, he who, wronged, flares up in rage: with his great passion for revenge, he thinks only of how to harm his fellow man.
[tr. Musa (1981)]
There is the man who, through the suppression of his neighbour, Hopes to excel, and for that reason only Desires to see him cast down from his greatness:
There is the man who fears to lose power, favour, Honour and glory because of another’s success, And so grieves for it that he loves the opposite:
And there is the man who takes umbrage at injury So that he becomes greedy for revenge And such a man must seek to harm another.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
There’s he who, through abasement of another, hopes for supremacy; he only longs to see his neighbor’s excellence cast down.
Then there is one who, when he is outdone, fears his own loss of fame, power, honor, favor; his sadness loves misfortune for his neighbor.
And there is he who, over injury received, resentful, for revenge grows greedy and, angrily, seeks out another’s harm.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]
There are those who hope for supremacy through their neighbor’s being kept down, and only on this account desire that his greatness be brought low; there are those who fear to lose power, favor, honor, or fame because another mounts higher, and thus are so aggrieved that they love the contrary; and there are those who seem so outraged by injury that they become greedy for revenge, and thus they must ready harm for others.
[tr. Durling (2003)]
There are those who hope to excel through their neighbour’s downfall, and because of this alone want them toppled from their greatness. This is Pride. There are those who fear to lose, power, influence, fame or honour because another is preferred, at which they are so saddened they desire the contrary. This is Envy. And there are those who seem so ashamed because of injury, that they become eager for revenge, and so are forced to wish another’s harm. This is Wrath.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Some hope, by keeping all their neighbours down, that they'll excel. They yearn for that alone -- to see them brought from high to low estate. Then, some will fear that, if another mounts, they'll lose all honour, fame and grace and power, so, grieving at success, love what it’s not. And some, it seems, when hurt, bear such a grudge that they crave only to exact revenge -- which means they seek to speed another’s harm.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
There is the one, hoping to excel by bringing down his neighbor, who, for that sole reason, longs that from his greatness his neighbor be brought low.
There is the one who fears the loss of power, favor, honor, fame -- should he be bettered by another. This so aggrieves him that he wants to see him fall.
And there is the one who thinks himself offended and hungers after vengeance, and he must then contrive another's harm.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
First, there's the man who aspires to excellence By pressing down his neighbor: only this yearning Makes him strive to pull his neighbor to the ground.
Then there's the man with power, favor, and honor, And so afraid of losing these when someone Climbs above him, that he hates what once he loved.
And there's the man who, outraged at being insulted, Lusts for the chance of taking revenge, and rushes Into wicked plans for hurting others.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fit them all.
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (1809-1894) American poet, essayist, scholar
Article (1858-04), “Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table,” Atlantic Monthly (Source)
Collected in The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, ch. 6 (1858).
TARTUFFE: Some joys, it’s true, are wrong in Heaven’s eyes;
Yet Heaven is not averse to compromise;
There is a science, lately formulated.
Whereby one’s conscience may be liberated,
And any wrongful act you care to mention
May be redeemed by purity of intention.
I’ll teach you. Madam, the secrets of that science;
Meanwhile, just place on me your full reliance.
Assuage my keen desires, and feel no dread:
The sin, if any, shall be on my head.
[Le ciel défend, de vrai, certains contentements;
Mais on trouve avec lui des accommodements.
Selon divers besoins, il est une science
D’étendre les liens de notre conscience,
Et de rectifier le mal de l’action
Avec la pureté de notre intention.
De ces secrets, madame, on saura vous instruire ;
Vous n’avez seulement qu’à vous laisser conduire.
Contentez mon désir, et n’ayez point d’effroi ;
Je vous réponds de tout, et prends le mal sur moi.]
Molière (1622-1673) French playwright, actor [stage name for Jean-Baptiste Poquelin] Tartuffe, Act 4, sc. 5 (1664) [tr. Wilbur (1963)]
(Source)
The pious fraud, Tartuffe, attempting to seduce Orgon's wife, Elmire. Moliere does a certain amount of CYA by inserts a note at this line, "A scoundrel is speaking [C’est un scélérat qui parle.]"
The passage mirrors Pascal's assertion in the seventh Provinciale that "When we cannot prevent the action, we at least purify the intention' and thus we correct vice by means of the purity of the end."
Heav'n 'tis true, forbids certain Gratifications. But then there are ways of compounding those Matters. It is a Science to stretch the Strings of Conscience according to the different Exigences of the Cawe, and to rectify the Immorality of the Action by the Purity of our Intention. These are Secrets, Madam, I can instruct you in; you have nothing to do, but passively to be conducted. Satisfy my Desire, and fear nothing, I'll answer for you, and will take the Sin upon myself.
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]
Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications, but there are ways and means of compounding such matters. According to our different wants, there is a science which loosens that which binds our conscience, and which rectifies the evil of the act with the purity of our intentions. We shall be able to initiate you into these secrets, Madam; you have only to be led by me. Satisfy my desires, and have no fear; I shall be answerable for everything, and shall take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Van Laun (c. 1870), 4.5]
It is true that Heaven forbids certain gratifications, but there are means of compounding with it upon such matters., and of rectifying the evil fo the act by the purity of the intention. We shall be able to initiate you into all those secrets, madam; all you have to do is to suffer yourself to be led by me. Satisfy my wishes, and be without fear. I will be answerable for everything and take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Wall (1879), 4.5]
Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications; but there are ways of compounding these matters. There is a science of stretching the strings of our conscience, according to different exigencies, and of rectifying the wrongness of the action by the purity of our intention. In these secrets, madame, I know how to instruct you, and all you have to do is to let me guide you. Satisfy my wishes, madame, and have no fear. I will answer for you, and take any wrong on myself.
[tr. Mathew (1890), 4.4]
Heaven, it is true, forbids certain gratifications; but there are ways of compounding with it. It is a science to stretch the string of our conscience according to divers needs and to rectify the immorality of the act with the purity of our intention. I can initiate you into these secrets, Madam; you have only to allow yourself to be led. Satisfy my desire, and do not be afraid: I will be answerable for you in everything, and I will take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Waller (1903), 4.5]
Heaven forbids, 't is true, some satisfactions;
But we find means to make things right with Heaven.
There is a science, madam, that instructs us
How to enlarge the limits of our conscience
According to our various occasions,
And rectify the evil of the deed
According to our purity of motive.
I'll duly teach you all these secrets, madam;
You only need to let yourself be guided.
Content my wishes, have no fear at all;
I answer for't, and take the sin upon me.
[tr. Page (1909), 4.5]
It's true that heaven forbids some satisfactions,
But there are possible ways to understandings.
To suit our various needs, there is a science
Of loosening the bonds of human conscience,
And rectifying the evil of an action
By means of the purity of our intention.
Madame, I shall instruct you in these secrets,
If you will put your confidence in me.
Content my longings, do not be afraid;
All the responsibility is mine ...
[tr. Bishop (1957)]
It's true, there are some pleasures Heaven denies;
But there are ways to reach a compromise.
Yes, now there is a science that succeeds
In stretching consciences to meet our needs,
And can correct, by a sublime invention,
An evil deed just by a pure intention.
To all this there are keys I can provide you;
All you need do, Madame, is let me guide you.
Content my longings, free yourself of dread:
If there is sin, I’ll take it on my head.
[tr. Frame (1967), 4.5]
It's true that Heaven forbids certain pleasures,
but it's possible to make bargains.
Depending on what's needed,
there are ways to accommodate our consciences
and to justify bad acts
by the purity of our intentions.
I can be your teacher, Madame;
you have only to let me be your guide.
Satisfy my desire; never fear,
I'll answer for it all and take you sin on.
[tr. Steiner (2008), 4.5]
Heaven forbids certain pleasures, in theory;
But one can always get round that;
According to requirement, it is a science
To stretch the limits of our conscience
And to balance out the evil of the deed
With the purity of the intention.
Nothing simpler, My Lady, than to instruct you in these mysteries;
You need only let yourself be led.
Give me what I want and have no fear:
I'll take the sin upon myself.
[tr. Campbell (2013)]
Heaven forbids, in truth, certain contentments;
But we find with him accomodations;
According to various needs, it is a science
To extend the bonds of our consciousness
And to rectify the evil of action
With the purity of our intention.
Of these secrets, Madam, we will know how to instruct you;
You just have to let yourself be driven.
Satisfy my desire, and have no fear:
I answer you for everything, and take evil on me.
[Source]
It's true Heaven forbids some pleasures, but a compromise can usually be found.
[E.g.]
If he was fair as he is hideous now, and raised his brow in scorn of his creator, he is fit to be the source of every sorrow.
[S’el fu sì bel com’elli è ora brutto, e contra ’l suo fattore alzò le ciglia, ben dee da lui procedere ogne lutto.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 34, l. 34ff (34.34) (1309) [tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
(Source)
Describing Satan. As Lucifer he was the most beautiful and powerful of the angels; Dante suggests his rebellious ingratitude against God is a fit cause for all the sin and sorrow of the world.
As ugly now, if he as handsome was, And 'gainst his Maker rais'd his haughty brow; 'Tis right all wailings should from him proceed.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
If his meridian glories, ere he fell,
Equal'd his horrible eclipse in Hell, No brighter Seraph led the heav'nly host:
And now, a tenant of the frozen tide,
The Rebel justly merits to preside O'er all the horrors of the Stygian coast.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]
If he were beautiful As he is hideous now, and yet did dare To scowl upon his Maker, well from him
May all our mis’ry flow.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
If he, once fair as he is foul of mien, Against his Maker arrogantly raised The brow, from him might well proceed, I ween,
All things disastrous.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
If he was once as beautiful as he is ugly now, and lifted up his brows against his Maker, well may all affliction come from him.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
If he were beauteous once as ugly now, And 'gainst his Maker dared to lift his brow, From him well might we have proceeding woe.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
If first in beauty once as hideous now, And to his Maker lifting his proud eye, Well might he be the source of ev'ry grief.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, And lifted up his brow against his Maker, Well may proceed from him all tribulation.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
If he was as fair as he is now foul, and raised his brows against his Maker, rightly should all sorrow come forth from him.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
If he was once as fair as hideous now, And 'gainst his Maker raised his impious eyes, Full well from him would all contention flow.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
If he was as fair as he now is foul, and against his Maker lifted up his brow, surely may all tribulation proceed from him.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
If once he was as fair as he is loathly, And raised his brows even against his Maker, Well may it be from him proceeds all mourning.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
If he was as fair as he is now foul and lifted up his brows against his Maker, well may all sorrow come from him.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
If he was once fair as he is now foul, And 'gainst his Maker dared his brows to raise, Fitly from him all streams of sorrow roll.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
If he was once as fair as now he's foul, And dared outface his Maker in rebellion, Well may he be the fount of all our dole.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
If he was once as beautiful as now he is hideous, and still turned on his Maker, well may he be the source of every woe!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
If he was once as beautiful as he is ugly now, and lifted up his brows against his Maker, well may all sorrow proceed from him.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
If once he was as fair as now he's foul and dared to raise his brows against his Maker, it is fitting that all grief should spring from him.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
If he was once as handsome as he now
is ugly and, despite that, raised his brows
against his Maker, one can understand how every sorrow has its source in him!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
If he was as beautiful as he now is ugly, And yet dared to rebel against his maker, Well may he be the source of all mourning.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
If he was truly once as beautiful As he is ugly now, and raised his brows Against his Maker -- then all sorrow may well
Come out of him.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
If he was as beautiful then as now he is ugly, when he lifted his brow against his Maker, well must all grieving proceed from him.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
If he was once as fair, as he is now ugly, and lifted up his forehead against his Maker, well may all evil flow from him.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
If, once, he was as lovely as now vile, when first he raised his brow against his maker, then truly grief must all proceed from him.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
If ever his beauty could match the ugliness I saw, and he lifted arrogant brows at his Maker, I understand how sorrow was born that day.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
If his beauty was
a match for all the foulness he has now,
We see that all our sorrow came because
He set his face against his Maker.
[tr. James (2013), l. 40ff]
I was held back by mere trifles, the most paltry inanities, all my old attachments. They plucked at my garment of flesh and whispered, “Are you going to dismiss us? From this moment we shall never be with you again, for ever and ever. From this moment you will never again be allowed to do this thing or that, for evermore.” What was it, my God, that they meant when they whispered “this thing or that?” Things so sordid and so shameful that I beg you in your mercy to keep the soul of your servant free from them!
[Retinebant nugae nugarum et vanitates vanitantium, antiquae amicae meae, et succutiebant vestem meam carneam et submurmurabant, “dimittisne nos?” et “a momento isto non erimus tecum ultra in aeternum” et “a momento isto non tibi licebit hoc et illud ultra in aeternum.” et quae suggerebant in eo quod dixi “hoc et illud,” quae suggerebant, deus meus, avertat ab anima servi tui misericordia tua! Quas sordes suggerebant, quae dedecora!]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus] Confessions, Book 8, ch. 11 / ¶ 26 (8.11.26) (c. AD 398) [tr. Pine-Coffin (1961)]
(Source)
The very toys of toys, and vanities of vanities, my ancient mistresses, still held me; they plucked my fleshy garment, and whispered softly, "Dost thou cast us off? and from that moment shall we no more be with thee for ever? and from that moment shall not this or that be lawful for thee for ever?" And what was it which they suggested in that I said, "this or that," what did they suggest, O my God? Let Thy mercy turn it away from the soul of Thy servant. What defilements did they suggest! what shame!
[tr. Pusey (1838)]
The very toys of toys, and vanities of vanities, my old mistresses, still enthralled me; they shook my fleshly garment, and whispered softly, “Dost thou part with us? And from that moment shall we no more be with thee for ever? And from that moment shall not this or that be lawful for thee for ever?” And what did they suggest to me in the words “this or that?” What is it that they suggested, O my God? Let Thy mercy avert it from the soul of Thy servant. What impurities did they suggest! What shame!
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]
Toys of toys and vanities of vanities, my old loves held me back, and made my fleshly garment quiver whispering softly, “Dost thou leave us? and from that moment shall we never be with thee any more? And from this moment will not this and that be allowed thee for ever?” And what did they suggest in that which I call "this or that"? what did they suggest, my God ? Let Thy Mercy turn it away from the soul of Thy servant! What defilements did they suggest! what shameful things!
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]
Trifles of trifles and vanities of vanities, my old mistresses, held me back; they caught hold of the garment of my flesh and whispered in my ear, "Can you let us go? and from that instant we shall see you no more for ever; and from that instant this and that will be forbidden you for ever.” What did they mean, O m God, what did they mean by "this and that?" O let Thy mercy guard the soul of Thy servant from the vileness, the shame that they meant!
[tr. Bigg (1897), 8.11.2]
Those trifles of all trifles, and vanities of vanities, my one-time mistresses, held me back, plucking at my garment of flesh and murmuring softly: “Are you sending us away?” And “From this moment shall we not be with you, now or forever?” And “From this moment shall this or that not be allowed you, now or forever?” What were they suggesting to me in the phrase I have written “this or that,” what were they suggesting to me, O my God? Do you in your mercy keep from the soul of Your servant the vileness and uncleanness they were suggesting.
[tr. Sheed (1943)]
It was, in fact, my old mistresses, trifles of trifles and vanities of vanities, who still enthralled me. They tugged at my fleshly garments and softly whispered: “Are you going to part with us? And from that moment will we never be with you any more? And from that moment will not this and that be forbidden you forever?” What were they suggesting to me in those words “this or that”? What is it they suggested, O my God? Let thy mercy guard the soul of thy servant from the vileness and the shame they did suggest!
[tr. Outler (1955)]
My lovers of old, trifles of trifles and vanities of vanities held me back. They plucked at my fleshly garment, and they whispered softly: “Do you cast us off?” and “From that moment we shall no more be with you forever and ever!” and again, “From that moment no longer will this thing and that be allowed to you, forever and ever!” What did they suggest by what I have called “this thing and that,” what, O my God, did they suggest? May your mercy turn away all that from your servant’s soul! What filth did they suggest! What deeds of shame!
[tr. Ryan (1960)]
Toys and trifles, utter vanities had been my mistresses, and now they were holding me back, pulling me by the garment of my flesh and softly murmuring in my ear: “Are you getting rid of us?” and “From this moment shall we never be with you again for all eternity?” and “From this moment will you never for all eternity be allowed to do this or to do that?” My God, what was it, what was it that they suggested in those words “this” or “that” which I have just written? I pray you in your mercy to keep such things from the soul of your servant. How filthy, how shameful were these things they were suggesting!
[tr. Warner (1963)]
The trifles of trifles, the worthless amid the worthless, past objects of my affections, were what was holding me, pulling at the garment of my flesh and whispering: "Are you sending us away? From this moment we shall not be with you for eternity? And from this moment you will not be permitted to do this and that for ever?" And what did they suggest by my "this and that", my God? Let your mercy turn it away from your servant’s soul. What impurities, what acts of shame they suggested.
[tr. Blaiklock (1983)]
On the subject of Biblical texts and examples to why you can’t do certain things with your body that you wish to, I find that absolutely absurd. I’ve always been extremely uncomfortable with the idea in any society that belief is based on revealed truth, that’s to say on a text like a Bible or a Qur’an, or whatever it is. It seems to me that the greatness of our culture, for all its incredible faults, is that we have grown up on the Greek ideal of discovering the truth, discovering by looking around us, by empirical experiment, by the combination of the experience of generations of ancestors who have contributed to our sum knowledge of the way the world works, and so on. And to have that snatched away and to be told what to think by a book, however great it may be in places, this is a book that says you can sell your daughter into slavery, it’s a book that bans menstruating women from within miles of temples. The fact that it also says that for one man to lie with another man is an abomination, is no more made relevant or important than the fact that you can’t eat shellfish.
Stephen Fry (b. 1957) British actor, writer, comedian An Evening with Callow & Fry, Norwich (2003-12)
(Source)
If men knew how to blush at their own actions, how many crimes, and not only those that are hidden, but those that are public and well known, would never be committed!
[Si l’homme savait rougir de soi, quels crimes, non seulement cachés, mais publics et connus, ne s’épargnerait-il pas!]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 11 “Of Mankind [De l’Homme],” § 151 (11.151) (1688) [tr. Van Laun (1885)]
(Source)
He that avoideth not small faults, by little and little falleth into greater.
[Qui parvos non devitat defectus, paulatim labitur ad majora.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 1, ch. 25, v. 10 (1.25.10) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Anon. (1901)]
(Source)
Cross-referenced in some sources to Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) 19:1 -- "One who despises small things will fail little by little."
He that will not flee small sins, shall by little and little fall into greater.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
He who will not flee small sins will, by little and little, fall into greater sins.
[tr. Whitford/Gardner (1530/1955)]
He that avoideth not small slips, by litle and litle may take a great fall.
[tr. Page (1639), 1.25.39]
He who does not inure himself to vanquishing by subduing less temptations, will never be able to grapple with more violent and trying ones; and infirmities once yielded to, grow insensibly to stubborn habits of vice.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1809 ed.), "The Christian's Pattern"]
He who is not careful to resist and subdue small sins, will insensibly fall into greater.
[tr. Payne (1803), 1.25.12]
He that avoideth not small faults, by little and little falleth into greater.
[ed. Parker (1841)]
He who is not careful to resist small sins, will insensibly fall into greater.
[tr. Dibdin (1851)]
He that does not shun small defects, by little and little falls into greater.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
He who shunneth not small faults falleth little by little into greater.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
He who does not overcome small faults, shall fall little by little into greater ones.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
He who does not try to shun small faults slips little and little into greater ones.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
The man who doesn't keep clear of petty faults will gradually slip into graver ones.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
The man who does not avoid small failings gradually drifts into greater ones.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
If you do not avoid small faults, you will soon commit greater ones.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
The person who does not avoid small faults, little by little slips into greater ones.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
I still thought that it is not we who sin but some other nature that sins within us. It flattered my pride to think that I incurred no guilt and, when I did wrong, not to confess it so that you might bring healing to a soul that had sinned against you. I preferred to excuse myself and blame this unknown thing which was in me but was not part of me. The truth, of course, was that it was all my own self, and my own impiety had divided me against myself. My sin was all the more incurable because I did not think myself a sinner.
[Adhuc enim mihi videbatur non esse nos qui peccamus, sed nescio quam aliam in nobis peccare naturam, et delectabat superbiam meam extra culpam esse et, cum aliquid mali fecissem, non confiteri me fecisse, ut sanares animam meam, quoniam peccabat tibi, sed excusare me amabam et accusare nescio quid aliud quod mecum esset et ego non essem. Verum autem totum ego eram et adversus me impietas mea me diviserat, et id erat peccatum insanabilius, quo me peccatorem non esse arbitrabar, et execrabilis iniquitas, te, deus omnipotens, te in me ad perniciem meam.]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus] Confessions, Book 5, ch. 10 / ¶ 18 (5.10.18) (c. AD 398) [tr. Pine-Coffin (1961)]
(Source)
The central phrase about healing a soul that has sinned is from Psalm 41:4.
For I still thought "that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us"; and it delighted my pride, to be free from blame; and when I had done any evil, not to confess I had done any, that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee: but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in truth it was wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me against myself: and that sin was the more incurable, whereby I did not judge myself a sinner.
[tr. Pusey (1838)]
For I still thought, "that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us;" and it delighted my pride to be free from blame, and when I had done any evil, not to confess I had done any, that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee: but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in truth it was wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me against myself: and that sin was the more incurable, whereby I did not judge myself a sinner.
[ed. Shedd (1860)]
For it still seemed to me “that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us.” And it gratified my pride to be free from blame and, after I had committed any fault, not to acknowledge that I had done any, -- "that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee;" but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse something else (I wot not what) which was with me, but was not I. But assuredly it was wholly I, and my impiety had divided me against myself; and that sin was all the more incurable in that I did not deem myself a sinner.
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]
For I still believed “that sin was not a voluntary act , but that some other nature, I knew not what, sinned in us;” and it flattered my pride to regard myself as free from fault; and when I had done anything wrong, not to admit that I had done it, “that Thou mightest heal my soul, because it had sinned against Thee;” but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse that which was in me, I knew not what, save that it was not myself. But indeed it was all myself, and my iniquity it was which had divided me against myself; and the sin which led me to deny, that I myself was a sinner, was on that account all the more incurable.
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]
For as yet I held that it is not we who sin, but that some alien nature sins in us; and my pride delighted in the thought that I was not to blame, and that, when I had done evil I need not confess that I had done it, to the end that Thou mightest heal my soul, because I had sinned against Thee. But I loved to excuse my soul, and lay the guilt on something else, which was with me and was not myself. But in truth I was one, and nothing but my iniquity had divided me against myself; and the thought that I was not a sinner was the deadlier part of my sin.
[tr. Bigg (1897)]
For I still held the view that it was not we that sinned, but some other nature sinning in us; and it pleased my pride to be beyond fault, and when I did any evil not to confess that I had done it, that You might heal my soul because it had sinned against You: I very much preferred to excuse myself and accuse some other thing that was in me but was not I. But in truth I was wholly I, it was my impiety that had divided me against myself. My sin was all the more incurable because I thought I was not a sinner.
[tr. Sheed (1943)]
For it still seemed to me “that it is not we who sin, but some other nature sinned in us.” And it gratified my pride to be beyond blame, and when I did anything wrong not to have to confess that I had done wrong -- “that thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against thee” -- and I loved to excuse my soul and to accuse something else inside me (I knew not what) but which was not I. But, assuredly, it was I, and it was my impiety that had divided me against myself. That sin then was all the more incurable because I did not deem myself a sinner.
[tr. Outler (1955)]
I still thought that it was not ourselves who sin, but that some sort of different nature within us commits the sin. It gave joy to my pride to be above all guilt, and when I did an evil deed, not to confess that I myself had done it, so that you might heal my soul, since it had sinned against you. I loved to excuse myself, and to accuse I know not what other being that was present with me but yet was not I. But in truth I was the one whole being, and my own impiety had divided me against myself. That sin was the more incurable whereby I judged myself to be no sinner.
[tr. Ryan (1960)]
For I was still of the opinion that it is not we ourselves who sin, but some other nature which is in us; it gratified my pride to think that I was blameless and, if I did something wrong, not to confess that I had done it, so that you might heal my soul, because my soul had sinned against you. Instead I liked to excuse myself and accuse something else -- something that was in me, but was not really I. But in fact I was wholly I and it was my impiety which had divided one me from another me. My sin was all the more incurable because I imagined that I was not a sinner.
[tr. Warner (1963)]
I still believed that it is not we who sin, but some undefined "nature" within us, and to be thus faultless was joy to my pride, as it was not to confess some evil I had done that you might heal my soul when I had sinned in your sight. I loved to excuse myself and blame something else which was with me, but not I. But truly it was wholly I, and my wickedness had divided me against myself. That sin was more incurable in which I did not consider myself a sinner.
[tr. Blaiklock (1983)]
By Art and Nature, if thou well recall How Genesis begins, man ought to get His bread, and make prosperity for all.
But the usurer contrives a third way yet, And in herself and in her follower, Art, Scorns Nature, for his hope is elsewhere set.
[Da queste due, se tu ti rechi a mente lo Genesì dal principio, convene prender sua vita e avanzar la gente;
e perché l’usuriere altra via tene, per sé natura e per la sua seguace dispregia, poi ch’in altro pon la spene.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 106ff (11.106-111) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Sayers (1949)]
(Source)
In Genesis (Gen. 2:15, 3:17-19), God ordains humanity is to survive gathering plants and resources (Nature) and through toil and "the sweat of his face" (Art or Industry) . Usurers are deemed evil because they gain wealth from interest on money-lending (or, by extension, any financial investments), producing money from money, not from productive work. They are considered in Dante's scheme as bad as blasphemers and perverts, and worse sinners than murderers or suicides. See commentary from Sayers and Durling.
And if you recollect
Your Genesis, you'll know that from these two
Mankind should Life, Tillage the Earth receive.
But, because Us'ry takes another way,
Despising Nature and your daughter Art,
It God displeases, and incurs his wrath.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 101ff]
But from her hallow'd path the Miser strays, Who lets pale A'rice warp his sordid ways, Invet'rate foe to Nature's simple lore,
Beneath his influence grows the barren gold. He speaks, and lo! the parent sums unfold In monstrous births, a misbegotten store.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 16]
These two, if thou recall to mind
Creation’s holy book, from the beginning
Were the right source of life and excellence
To human kind. But in another path
The usurer walks; and Nature in herself
And in her follower thus he sets at nought,
Placing elsewhere his hope.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Both these to man, if thou refresh thy mind In Genesis' early writ, the Word ordains His life to foster, and advance his kind.
But other way takes Usance to his gains, And, choosing other hope, a scornful war With Nature and her handmaid Art maintains.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
By these two, if you recallest to thy memory Genesis at the beginning, it behoves man to gain his bread and [to prosper]. And because the usurer takes another way, he contemns Nature in herself and in her follower, placing elsewhere his hope.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
From these two, if right considered in the mind, From first of Genesis the truth receive, Life and advancement to the nations gave.
But usury has ta'en another way, Despising nature and her handmaid Art, Far other hopes his light of life impart.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
From these two, then, if thou in mem'ry hold'st The earlier Genesis, it is decreed That life must spring, and man's increase must come.
But then the usurer treads another path; Nature and her attendant both he scorns, Since in another means he places hope.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
From these two, if thou bringest to thy mind
Genesis at the beginning, it behoves Mankind to gain their life and to advance;
And since the usurer takes another way, Nature herself and in her follower Disdains he, for elsewhere he puts his hope.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
From these two, if thou bring to thy mind Genesis, towards the beginning, it behoves folk to take their life, and to prosper. And because the usurer holds another course, he despises Nature both for herself and for her follower; because he places his hope in another thing.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
From Art and Nature, if thou bring'st to mind The verse of Genesis, 'tis doomed alone That man should live and carry on his kind.
And since to usurers other ways are known, Both Nature and her follower stand confest Outraged by those whose trust is elsewhere shown.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
By means of these two, if thou bringest to mind Genesis at its beginning, it behoves mankind to obtain their livelihood and to thrive. But because the usurer takes another course, he despises Nature in herself, and in her follower, since upon other thing he sets his hope.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
By these two, if thou recallest to thy mind an early page in Genesis, doth it behove mankind to win their means of life, and to excel. And for that the usurer goeth another way, he slighteth nature both in herself and follower, putting his trust elsewhere.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
From these two, if thou bring' st to recollection Genesis at its opening, it must needs be That folk do take their living and make progress.
And, since the usurer keeps another pathway, Nature, both for herself and for her daughter, Contemns he, since his hope elsewhere he places.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
By these two, if thou recall to mind Genesis near the beginning, it behoves mankind to gain their livelihood and their advancement, and because the usurer takes another way he despises nature both in herself and in her follower, setting his hope elsewhere.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
By these two, if thy memory Genesis Recalls, and its beginning, man hath need To gain his bread and foster earthly bliss.
But the usurer, since he will not thus proceed, Flouts Nature's follower and herself also, Setting his wealth another way to breed.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
By this, recalling the Old Testament near the beginning of Genesis, you will see that in the will of Providence, man was meant
to labor and to prosper. But usurers, by seeking their increase in other ways, scorn Nature in herself and her followers.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
By these two, if you remember Genesis at the beginning, it behooves man to gain his bread and to prosper. But because the usurer takes another way, he contemns Nature in herself and in her follower, for he puts his hope elsewhere.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
From Art and Nature man was meant to take his daily bread to live -- if you recall the book of Genesis near the beginning;
but the usurer, adopting another means, scorns Nature in herself and in her pupil, Art -- he invests his hope in something else.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
From these two, art and nature, it is fitting, if you recall how Genesis begins, for men to make their way, to gain their living;
and since the usurer prefers another pathway, he scorns both nature in herself and art, her follower; his hope is elsewhere.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
From these two, if you recall to mind The beginning of Genesis, it is proper for man To win his bread and to advance his race:
And because the usurer takes another way, Treating nature and what follows from her Contemptuously, he puts his hopes elsewhere.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
By these two, man should thrive and gain his bread --
If you remember Genesis -- from the start But since the usurer takes a different way, He contemns Nature both in her own sort
And in her follower as well, while he Chooses to invest his hope another place.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
From these two, if you bring to mind the beginning of Genesis, we must draw our life and advance our people.
and because the usurer holds another way, he scorns Nature in herself and in her follower, since he puts his hope in something else.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
By these two, art and nature, man must earn his bread and flourish, if you recall to mind Genesis, near its beginning. Because the usurer holds to another course, he denies Nature, in herself, and in that which follows her ways, putting his hopes elsewhere.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
From these two principles -- if you recall the opening lines of Genesis -- we're bound to draw our living strength and multiply our people.
But usurers adopt a different course. They place their hopes in other things, and thus make mock of Nature's self and her close kin.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
By toil and nature, if you remember Genesis, near the beginning, it is man's lot to earn his bread and prosper.
The usurer, who takes another path, scorns nature in herself and in her follower, and elsewhere sets his hopes.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Nature and human labor -- as Genesis teaches In its very first pages -- combine to let man live And thereby take his people forward. But those leeches
Who practice usury abandon the given Path for another, despising Nature's way And her honest pupils: gold, not God, is their living.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
By this twin element
Of nature's force and human effort -- see
The book of Genesis, near the beginning, where
Men are enjoined to earn their bread by sweat --
Humanity needs must accept its share
Of effort to advance. The trade in debt
Ignores that pact. His course set otherwise
The usurer holds nature in contempt
Both in herself and in her human guise,
Simply by how he holds himself exempt
And sets his hopes elsewhere.
[tr. James (2013), l. 112ff]
Of all malice that makes of Heaven a foe The end is injury, and all such end won By force or fraud worketh another’s woe.
But since fraud is a vice of man’s alone, It more offends God: so are lowest set The fraudulent, and the heavier is their groan.
[D’ogne malizia, ch’odio in cielo acquista,
ingiuria è ‘l fine, ed ogne fin cotale
o con forza o con frode altrui contrista.
Ma perché frode è de l’uom proprio male,
più spiace a Dio; e però stan di sotto
li frodolenti, e più dolor li assale.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 22ff (11.22-27) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
Of ev'ry Vice which odious is in Heav'n
To injure is the purport, and the end;
Either by Force, or Fraud. But as to Man
Fraud is peculiar, it more God offends:
Therefore the fraudulent are lower plac'd,
And greater punishment and pains endure.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 21ff]
Above the Sons of Violence reside, The bands of Fraud below together hide; (Vile Fraud! The heav'n-born soul's peculiar blot!)
For this, in fiercer pains, the traitors keep Their horrid vigils far in yonder deep; Hated of Heav'n, and fill the lowest lot.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5]
Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,
The end is injury; and all such end
Either by force or fraud works other’s woe
But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,
To God is more displeasing; and beneath
The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure
Severer pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Of each malicious act, abhorred on high. Injustice is the end: for others' woe Must all such ends or force or fraud apply.
But fraud in man his proper vice doth show, To God more odious; wherefore deeper here The fraudful sink, and mourn a sharper throe.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Of all malice, which gains hatred in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, aggrieveth others. But because fraud is a vice peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and therefore the fraudulent are placed beneath, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Of evil deed, that's stamped with hate in heaven, Is injury the end. Each end's attained With force or fraud, by which another's pained.
Since fraud is then the native ill of man, It more displeases God; beneath the vault, The fraudulent the deeper pains assault.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Of ev'ry malice which just heav'n abhors,
To injure is the end; and each such end,
Either by force or fraud, makes others grieve.
But since of man fraud is the proper sin,
More it displeases God; and so beneath
Are plac'd the fraudulent with heavier pains.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven,
Injury is the end; and all such end
Either by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man's peculiar vice,
More it displeases God; and so stand lowest
The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Of every badness which earns hatred in heaven, injury is the end; and every such end either by force or by fraud causes grief to another. But because fraud is an ill peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and for this cause the fraudulent have their station below, and woe assails them more.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Of every malice that in Heaven wins hate The end is injury, and each such plan By force or fraud on some wreaks woeful fate.
Since fraud is ill peculiar unto man God it displeases more, and hence more low The fraudulent are doomed to greater pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Of every malice that wins hate in heaven injury is the end, and every such end afflicts others either by force or by fraud. But because fraud is the peculiar sin of man, it most displeaseth God; and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more woe assails them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Of every evil act that earneth hate in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, by either violence or fraud, heapeth sorrow upon others. But forasmuch as fraud is man's peculiar vice, it is the more displeasing unto God ; and therefore they who dealt in fraud are set beneath, and greater is the torture that doth afflict them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
All wickedness that lays up hate in heaven
Injustice hath for end, and such end alway,
Either by force or fraud, afflicts another:
But, seeing that fraud is man's peculiar evil,
More it displeases God: therefore are lowest
The fraudulent, and greater woe assails them.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Every kind of wickedness that gains the hatred of Heaven has injustice for its end, and every such end afflicts someone either by force or fraud; but because fraud is sin peculiar to man it is more offensive to God, and for that reason the fraudulent have their place lower nad more pain assails them.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Of all malicious wrong that earns Heaven's hate The end is injury; all such ends are won Either by force or fraud. Both perpetuate
Evil to others; but since man alone Is capable of fraud, God hates that worst; The fraudulent lie lowest, then and groan
Deepest.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Malice is the sin most hated by God
And the aim of malice is to injure others
whether by fraud or violence. But since fraud
is the vice fo which man alone is capable,
God loathes it most. Therefore, the fraudulent
are place below, and their torment is more painful.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Of every malice that gains hatred in Heaven the end is injustice; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, afflicts another. But because fraud is an evil peculiar to man, it more displeases God, and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
All malice has injustice as its end,
an end achieved by violence or by fraud;
while both are sins that earn the hate of Heaven,
since fraud belongs exclusively to man,
God hates it more and, therefore, far below,
the fraudulent are placed and suffer most.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Of every malice that earns hate in Heaven,
injustice is the end; and each such end
by force or fraud brings harm to other men.
However, fraud is man's peculiar vice;
God finds it more displeasing -- and therefore,
the fraudulent are lower, suffering more.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
The object of all malice, which earns heaven's hatred,
Is injury; every object of that kind
Causes distress to others by force or fraud.
And because fraud is an evil peculiar to men,
It displeases God the more; and therefore the fraudulent
are placed beneath and greater pain assail them.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The end of every wickedness that feels
Heaven's s hatred is injustice -- and each end
Of this kind, whether by force or fraud, afflicts
Some other person. But since fraud is found
In humankind as its peculiar vice,
It angers God more: so the fraudulent
Are lower, and suffer more unhappiness.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 21ff]
Of every malice gaining the hatred of Heaven, injustice is the goal, and efvery such goal injures someone either with force or with fraud. But because fraud is an evil proper to man, it is more displeasing to God; and therefore the fraudulent have a lower place and greater pain assails them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
The outcome of all maliciousness, that Heaven hates, is harm: and every such outcome, hurts others, either by force or deceit. But because deceit is a vice peculiar to human beings, it displeases God more, and therefore the fraudulent are placed below, and more pain grieves them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Malice is aimed in all its forms -- and thus incurs the hatred of Heaven -- at gross injustice, and, aiming so, harms others, by deceit or force.
Deceit, though, is specifically a human wrong, and hence displeases God the more. Liars are therefore deeper down, and tortured worse.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Every evil deed despised in Heaven
has as its end injustice. Each such end
harms someone else through either force or fraud.
But since the vice of fraud is man's alone,
it more displeases God, and thus the fraudulent
are lower down, assailed by greater pain.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Hated by Heaven, every conscious
sin will end in injustice, and each new sin,
By force or fraud, creates the same result.
But since such fraud is a sin unique to men,
God hates it more. So sinners guilty of fraud
Go farther down, and deeper pain attacks them.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Crimes Heaven hates have for their end Injustice, and that end afflicts someone
Either by force or fraud, and must offend The Lord, for fraud is human, and ills done
By humans please Him least, and therefore they, The tricksters, lie down and suffer more.
[tr. James (2013)]
A sin takes on new and real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
“The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg,” ch. 4 (1899)
(Source)
Ah, God’s avenging justice! who could heap up
suffering and pain as strange as I saw here?
How can we let our guilt bring us to this?
[Ahi giustizia di Dio! tante chi stipa
nove travaglie e pene quant’io viddi?
e perché nostra colpa sì ne scipa?]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 7, l. 19ff (7.19-21) (1309) [tr. Musa (1971)]
(Source)
Great is God's Justice; as increase with Crimes
Their Punishments, which here I many saw:
But why do we encourage this increase?
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Justice of Heav'n, from thine avenging hand
What nameless toils and tortures fill the strand!
Ah! why on mortal failings so severe!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 4]
Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st
New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!
Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Justice of God! who might such travail heap,
Such unimagined pangs as there I saw?
And wherefore drains our guilt the cup so deep?
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Ah, Justice Divine! who shall tell in few the many fresh pains and travails that I saw? and why does guilt of ours thus waste us?
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Ah! justice of our God! how it heaps up
New troubles and new punishments I saw,
And fault of ours such penalty to draw!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Oh, God's great justice! who heaps up the mass
Of pains and labors new which meet mine eye?
Why does our crime so tear and torture us?
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many
New toils and sufferings as I beheld?
And why doth our transgression waste us so?
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Ah justice of God! who crowds all the new labours and pains that I saw? and wherefore does our sin so bring us low?
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Justice of God! who heapeth up such store
Of novel toils and pains which I have seen!
And why doth sin in such profusion pour?
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Ah, Justice of God! Who heapeth up so many new travails and penalties as I saw? And why doth our sin so waste us?
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Ah me! Justice of God, that heapeth up un-heard-of toils and tortures in numbers such as I beheld! And why doth man's transgression scourge man so?
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Justice of God! that it can pack together
Such novel pains and travails as I witnessed!
And why is our own fault thus our destruction?
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Ah, Justice of God, who crams together
all the new toils and pains that I saw?
And why does our sin so lay us waste?
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Ah! Divine Justice! Who crowds throe on throe,
Toil upon toil, such as mine eyes now met?
And why doth guilt of ours consume us so?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
God's justice! Who shall tell the agonies,
Heaped thick and new before my shuddering glance?
Why must our guilt smite us with strokes like this?
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
O Holy Justice,
who could relate the agonies I saw!
What guilt is man that he can come to this?
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Ah, justice of God! who crams together so many new travails and penalties as I saw? And why does our guilt so waste us?
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Justice of God! Who has amassed as many
strange tortures and travails as I have seen?
Why do we let our guilt consume us so?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Justice of God! Who except you could gather
As many pains and punishments as I saw?
And why is it our faults must so devour us?
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Justice of God! Who is it hat heaps together
So much peculiar torture and travail?
How is it that we choose to sin and wither?
[tr. Pinsky (1994), ll. 17-19]
Ah, justice of God! who stuffs in so many strange
travails and punishments as I saw? and why does
our own guilt so destroy us?
[tr. Durling (1996)]
O Divine Justice! Who can tell the many new pains and troubles, that I saw, and why our guilt so destroys us?
[tr. Kline (2002)]
God in all justice! I saw there so many
new forms of travail, so tightly crammed. By whom?
How can our guilt so rend and ruin us?
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Ah, Justice of God, who heaps up
such strange punishment and pain as I saw there?
And why do our sins so waste us?
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Ah, God of Justice, Who does this, scraping
Together the brand-new pains and punishments
I saw? And why should sinning cause such wastage?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Merciful God! Who gets it in,
This wretched harvest? What accounts for it?
And why to such pain are we led by sin?
[tr. James (2013), ll. 18-20]
There are no vices more dangerous than those which simulate virtue.
Desiderius Erasmus (1465-1536) Dutch humanist philosopher and scholar The Handbook of the Christian Soldier [Enchiridion Militis Christiani], sec. 32b (1501) [tr. Fantazzi (1989)]
(Source)
Alternate translation:
No sins are more dangerous than those which have the appearance of virtue.
[tr. Himelick (1963), ch. 14]
And even when life is over, all the evil
Ingrained so long, the adulterated mixture,
The plagues and pestilences of the body
Remain, persist. So there must be a cleansing,
By penalty, by punishment, by fire,
By sweep of wind, by water’s absolution,
Before the guilt is gone. Each of us suffers
His own peculiar ghost.
[Quin et supremo cum lumine vita reliquit,
non tamen omne malum miseris nec funditus omnes
corporeae excedunt pestes, penitusque necesse est
multa diu concreta modis inolescere miris.
Ergo exercentur poenis, veterumque malorum
supplicia expendunt: aliae panduntur inanes
suspensae ad ventos; aliis sub gurgite vasto
infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni;
quisque suos patimur Manes.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 735ff (6.735-743) [Anchises] (29-19 BC) [tr. Humphries (1951)]
(Source)
Souls in the underworld purging their spirits so that they can enter Elysium. The Manes were minor underworld deities and/or the spirits of deceased ancestors.
But when their latest light and life is set,
Not all woes leave them, nor all tortures quite
Forsake the wretches there; and 'tis but right;
Things strangely grown by custome into crimes,
They must be punish'd for their mispent times,
And tortures feele; some in the winds are hung,
Others to clense their spotted sins are flung
In a vast gulph, or purg'd in fire they are:
We all have our own tortures.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Nor can the groveling mind,
In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd,
Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind:
Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains;
But long-contracted filth ev'n in the soul remains.
The relics of inveterate vice they wear,
And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear.
For this are various penances enjoin'd;
And some are hung to bleach upon the wind,
Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires,
Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires
All have their manes, and those manes bear.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Even when with the last beams of light their life is gone, yet not every ill, nor all corporeal stains, are quite removed from the unhappy beings; and it is absolutely necessary that many imperfections which have long been joined to the soul should be in marvelous ways increased and riveted therin. Therefore are they afflicted with punishments, and pay the penalties of their former ills. Some, hung on high, are spread out to the empty winds; in others the guilt not done away is washed out ina vast watery abyss, or burned away in fire. We each endure his own manes.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Nay, when at last the life has fled,
And left the body cold and dead,
E'en then there passes not away
The painful heritage of clay;
Full many a long contracted stain
Perforce must linger deep in grain.
So penal sufferings they endure
For ancient crime, to make them pure:
Some hang aloft in open view
For winds to pierce them through and through,
While others purge their guilt deep-dyed
In burning fire or whelming tide.
Each for himself, we all sustain
The durance of our ghostly pain.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Nor e'en when life's last ray
Has fled, does every ill depart, nor all
Corporeal taints quite leave their unhappy frames,
And needs must be that many a hardened fault
Inheres in wondrous ways. Therefore the pains
Of punishment they undergo, for sins
Of former times. Some in the winds are hung
Suspended and exposed. Others beneath
A waste of waters from their guilt are cleansed,
Or purified by fire. We all endure
Our ghostly retribution.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 918ff]
Nay, and when the last ray of life is gone, not yet, alas! does all their woe, nor do all the plagues of the body wholly leave them free; and needs must be that many a long ingrained evil should take root marvellously deep. Therefore they are schooled in punishment, and pay all the forfeit of a lifelong ill; some are hung stretched to the viewless winds; some have the taint of guilt washed out beneath the dreary deep, or burned away in fire. We suffer, each a several ghost.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Yea, e'en when out of upper day their life at last is borne,
Not all the ill of wretched men is utterly outworn,
Not all the bane their bodies bred; and sure in wondrous wise
The plenteous ill they bore so long engrained in them it lies:
So therefore are they worn by woes and pay for ancient wrong:
And some of them are hung aloft the empty winds among;
And some, their stain of wickedness amidst the water's heart
Is washed away; amidst the fire some leave their worser part;
And each his proper death must bear.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 734ff]
Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
Nay, after death, the traces it retains
Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
Since much must needs by long concretion grow
Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
And schooled in all the discipline of woe;
Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
Our ghostly penance.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 97-98, l. 866ff]
Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell
May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed
From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law,
The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
For this, the chastisement of evils past
Is suffered here, and full requital paid.
Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds;
For some their sin's contagion must be purged
In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas,
Or burned away in fire. Each man receives
His ghostly portion in the world of dark.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, when at their last day life is fled, still not all the evil, alas! not all the plagues of the body quit them utterly; and it must needs be that many a taint, long linked in growth, should in wondrous wise become deeply ingrained. Therefore are they schooled with penalties, and for olden sins pay punishment: some are hung stretched out to the empty winds; from some the stain of guilt is washed away under swirling floods or burned out in fire. Each of us suffers his own spirit.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
Yes, not even when the last flicker of life has left us,
Does evil, or the ills that flesh is heir to, quite
Relinquish our souls; it must be that many a taint grows deeply,
Mysteriously grained in their being from long contact with the body.
Therefore the dead are disciplined in purgatory, and pay
The penalty of old evil: some hang, stretched ot the blast of
Vacuum winds; for others, the stain of sin is washed
Away in a vast whirlpool or cauterized with fire.
Each of us finds in the next world his own level.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
And when the final day of life deserts them,
then, even then, not every ill, not all
the plagues of body quit them utterly;
and this must be, for taints so long congealed
cling fast and deep in extraordinary
ways. Therefore they are schooled by punishment
and pay with torments for their own misdeeds:
some there are purified by air, suspended
and stretched before the empty winds; for some
the stain of guilt is washed away beneath
a mighty whirlpool or consumed by fire.
First each of us must suffer his own Shade.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 970ff]
In fact
Even when life departs on the last day
Not all the scourges of the body pass
From the poor souls, not all distress of life.
Inevitably, many malformations,
Growing together in mysterious ways,
Become inveterate. Therefore they undergo
The discipline of punishments and pay
In penance for old sins: some hang full length
To the empty winds, for some the stain of wrong
Is washed by floods or burned away by fire.
We suffer each his own shade.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 988ff]
Even when life leaves them on their last day of light, they are not wholly freed from all the many ills and miseries of the body which must harden in them over the long years and become ingrained in ways we cannot understand. And so they are put to punishment, to pay the penalty for all their ancient sins. Some are stretched and hung out empty to dry in the winds. Some have the stain of evil washed out of them under a vast tide of water or scorched out by fire. Each of us suffers his own fate in the after-life.
[tr. West (1990)]
Why, when life leaves them at the final hour,
still all of the evil, all the plagues of the flesh, alas,
have not completely vanished, and many things, long hardened
deep within, must of necessity be ingrained, in strange ways.
So they are scourged by torments, and pay the price
for former sins: some are hung, stretched out,
to the hollow winds, the taint of wickedness is cleansed
for others in vast gulfs, or burned away with fire:
each spirit suffers its own.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Nor, when the last gleam
Of life flickers out, are all the ills
That flesh is heir to completely uprooted.
But many corporal taints remain,
Ingrained in the soul in myriad ways.
And so we are disciplined and expiate
Our bygone sins. Some souls are hung
Spread to the winds; others are cleansed
Under swirling waters or purged by fire.
We each suffer our own ghosts.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
True,
but even on that last day, when the light of life departs,
the wretches are not completely purged of all the taints,
nor are they wholly freed of all the body’s plagues.
Down deep they harden fast -- they must, so long engrained
in the flesh -- in strange, uncanny ways. And so the souls
are drilled in punishments, they must pay for their old offenses.
Some are hung splayed out, exposed to the empty winds,
some are plunged in the rushing floods -- their stains,
their crimes scoured off or scorched away by fire.
Each of us must suffer his own demanding ghost.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 849ff]
Poor things, even when life leaves them on the day of death, not every sin or canker of the flesh fully recedes. Many habits harden over time, and in this way become ingrained. So they pay for former crimes by torment: exposed to hollow winds by crucifixion, washed clean of infection in a whirling flood, or cauterized by fire -- we all suffer our soul's cure.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it, or will admit of an excuse; envy alone wants both. Other sins last but for awhile; the gut may be satisfied, anger remits, hatred hath an end, envy never ceaseth.
[Omne peccatum aut excusationem secum habet, aut voluptatem, sola invidia utraque caret, reliqua vitia finem habent, ira defervescit, gala satiatur, odium finem habet, invidia nunquam quiescit.]
Robert Burton (1577-1640) English scholar The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1.2.3.7 (1621-51)
(Source)
No, not if I had a hundred tongues and a hundred mouths
and a voice of iron too — I could never capture
all the crimes or run through all the torments,
doom by doom.
[Non, mihi si linguae centum sunt oraque centum
Ferrea vox, omnis scelerum comprendere formas,
Omnia poenarum percurrere nomina possim.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 625ff (6.625-627) [The Sybil] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), l. 724ff]
(Source)
The punishments in Tartarus. Virgil uses a similar metaphor in Georgics 2.43.
Had I a hundred mouths, as many tongues,
A voice of iron, to these had brazen lungs;
Their crimes and tortures ne're could be displaid.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And throats of brass, inspired with iron lungs,
I could not half those horrid crimes repeat,
Nor half the punishments those crimes have met.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Had I a hundred tongues, and a hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, I could not comprehend all the species of their crimes, nor enumerate the names of all their punishments.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
No -- had I e'en a hundred tongues
A hundred mouths, and iron lungs,
Those types of guilt I could not show,
Nor tell the forms of penal woe.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a voice
Of iron, could I tell thee all the forms
Of guilt, or number all their penalties.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 780ff]
Not had I an hundred tongues, an hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, could I sum up all the shapes of crime or name over all their punishments.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Nor, had I now an hundred mouths, an hundred tongues at need,
An iron voice, might I tell o'er all guise of evil deed,
Or run adown the names of woe those evil deeds are worth.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
Ne'er had a hundred mouths, if such were mine,
Nor hundred tongues their endless sins declared,
Nor iron voice their torments could define,
Or tell what doom to each the avenging gods assign.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 83, l. 744ff]
&I could not tell,
Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin,
Nor call by name the myriad pangs they bear.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, had I a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, and voice of iron, I could not sum up all the forms of crime, or rehearse all the tale of torments.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
If I had a hundred tongues,
A hundred iron throats, I could not tell
The fullness of their crime and punishment.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
No, not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths
And a voice of iron, could I describe all the shapes of wickedness,
Catalogue all the retributions inflicted here.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
A hundred tongues,
a hundred mouths, an iron voice were not
enough for me to gather all the forms
of crime or tell the names of all the torments.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 829ff]
If I had
A hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice
Of iron, I could not tell of all the shapes
Their crimes had taken, or their punishments.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
If I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths and a voice of iron, I could not encompass all their different crimes or speak the names of all their different punishments.
[tr. West (1990)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths,
a voice of iron, could I tell all the forms of wickedness
or spell out the names of every torment.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Not if I had a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And a voice of iron, could I recount
All the crimes or tell all their punishments.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
A hundred tongues and mouths, an iron voice, wouldn't let me cover the varieties of evil, nor all the names for punishments.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
I am the spirit, ever, that denies!
And rightly so: since everything created,
In turn deserves to be annihilated:
Better if nothing came to be.
So all that you call Sin, you see,
Destruction, in short, what you’ve meant
By Evil is my true element.
[Ich bin der Geist, der stets verneint!
Und das mit Recht; denn alles, was entsteht,
Ist wert, daß es zugrunde geht;
Drum besser wär’s, daß nichts entstünde.
So ist denn alles, was ihr Sünde,
Zerstörung, kurz, das Böse nennt,
Mein eigentliches Element.]
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) German poet, statesman, scientist Faust: a Tragedy [eine Tragödie], Part 1, sc. 6 “The Study,” l. 1337ff [Mephistopheles] (1808-1829) [tr. Kline (2003)]
(Source)
Some translations (and this site) include the Declaration, Prelude on the Stage, and Prologue in Heaven as individual scenes; others do not, leading to their Part 1 scenes being numbered three lower.
I am the Spirit that Denies!
And rightly so, for all that from the Void
Wins into life, deserves to be destroyed;
Thus it were better nothing life should win.
And so is all that you as Sin,
Destruction, in a word, as Evil represent,
My own peculiar element.
[tr. Latham (1790)]
I am the Spirit that denies!
And rightly too; for all that doth begin
Should rightly to destruction run;
'Twere better then that nothing were begun.
Thus everything that you call Sin,
Destruction -- in a word, as Evil represent --
That is my own, real element.
[tr. Priest (1808)]
I am the spirit who says "nay" to all,
And rightly so; for all that have existence
Deserve that they should perish; so 'twere better
That nothing earthly should enjoy existence.
All, therefore, that you mortals mean by Sin,
Destruction, in a word, what you call Evil,
Is my peculiar element.
[tr. Coleridge (1821)]
I am the spirit which constantly denies, and that rightly; for everything that has originated, deserves to be annihilated. Therefore better were it that nothing should originate. Thus, all that you call sin, destruction, in a word. Evil, is my proper element.
[tr. Hayward (1831)]
The spirit I, which evermore denies!
And justly; for whate'er to light is brought
Deserves again to be reduced to naught;
Then better 'twere that naught should be.
Thus all the elements which ye
Destruction, Sin, or briefly, Evil, name,
As my peculiar element I claim.
[tr. Swanwick (1850)]
I am the spirit that denies!
And justly so; for all that time creates,
He does well who annihilates!
Better, it ne'er had had beginning;
And so, then, all that you call sinning,
Destruction, -- all you pronounce ill-meant, --
Is my original element.
[tr. Brooks (1868)]
I am the Spirit that Denies!
And justly so: for all things, from the Void
Called forth, deserve to be destroyed:
'Twere better, then, were naught created.
Thus, all which you as Sin have rated, --
Destruction, -- aught with Evil blent, --
That is my proper element.
[tr. Taylor (1870)]
I am the Spirit of Negation:
And justly so; for all that is created
Deserves to be annihilated.
’Twere better, thus, that there were no creation.
Thus everything that you call evil,
Destruction, ruin, death, the devil,
Is my pure element and sphere.
[tr. Blackie (1880)]
I am the spirit that negates.
And rightly so, for all that comes to be
Deserves to perish wretchedly;
'Twere better nothing would begin.
Thus everything that your terms, sin,
Destruction, evil represent --
That is my proper element.
[tr. Kaufmann (1961)]
I am the spirit that denies forever!
And rightly so! What has arisen from the void
deserves to be annihilated. It would be best if
nothing ever would arise. And thus what you call
havoc, deadly sin, or briefly stated: Evil,
that is my proper element.
[tr. Salm (1962)]
The spirit which eternally denies!
And justly so; for all that which is wrought
Deserves that it should come to naught;
Hence it were best if nothing were engendered.
Which is why all things you have rendered
By terms like sin, destruction -- evil, in brief --
Are my true element-in-chief.
[tr. Arndt (1976)]
I am the spirit of perpetual negation;
And rightly so, for all things that exist
Deserve to perish, and would not be missed.
Much better it would be if nothing were
Brought into being, Thus, what you men call
Destruction, sin, evil in short, is all
My sphere, the element I most prefer.
[tr. Luke (1987)]
I am the spirit that says no, no,
Always! And how right I am! For surely
It's right that everything that comes to be
Should cease to be. And so they do. Still better
Would be nothing ever was. Hence sin
And havoc and ruin -- all you call evil, in sum --
For me's the element in which I swim.
[tr. Greenberg (1992)]
I am the spirit of perpetual negation.
And that is only right; for all
That's made is fit to be destroyed.
Far better if it were an empty void!
So -- everything that you would call
Destruction, sin, and all that's meant
By evil, is my proper element.
[tr. Williams (1999)]
THE LORD
And do you have no other news?
Do you come always only to accuse?
Does nothing please you ever on the earth?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find it still of precious little worth.
I feel for mankind in their wretchedness,
It almost makes me want to plague them less.
DER HERR
Hast du mir weiter nichts zu sagen?
Kommst du nur immer anzuklagen?
Ist auf der Erde ewig dir nichts recht?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Nein Herr! ich find es dort, wie immer, herzlich schlecht.
Die Menschen dauern mich in ihren Jammertagen,
Ich mag sogar die armen selbst nicht plagen.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) German poet, statesman, scientist Faust: a Tragedy [eine Tragödie], Part 1, sc. 3 “Prologue in Heaven,” l. 301ff (1808-1829) [tr. Arndt (1976)]
(Source)
THE LORD
Have you no more to say. Do you come here
Always to scold, and cavil, and complain?
Seems nothing ever right to you on earth?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find all there, as ever, bad at best.
Even I am sorry for man's days of sorrow;
I could myself almost give up the pleasure
Of plaguing the poor things.
THE LORD: Have you nothing else to say to me? Are you always coming for no other purpose than to complain? Is nothing ever to your liking upon earth?
MEPHISTOPHELES: No, Lord! I find things there, as ever, miserably bad. Men, in their days of wretchedness, move my pity; even I myself have not the heart to torment the poor things.
[tr. Hayward (1831)]
THE LORD
Hast thou naught else to say? Is blame
In coming here, as ever, thy sole aim?
Does nothing on the earth to thee seem right?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find things there, as ever, in sad plight.
Men, in their evil days, move my compassion;
Such sorry things to plague is nothing worth.
THE LORD
Hast nothing for our edification?
Still thy old work of accusation?
Will things on earth be never right for thee?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find them still as bad as bad can be.
Poor souls! their miseries seem so much to please 'em,
I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em.
THE LORD
Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention?
Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention?
Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be.
Man's misery even to pity moves my nature;
I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature.
THE LORD
Hast thou then nothing more to say?
And art thou here again to-day
To vent thy grudge in peevish spite
Against the earth, still finding nothing right?
MEPHISTOPHELES
True, Lord; I find things there no better than before;
I must confess I do deplore
Man’s hopeless case, and scarce have heart myself
To torture the poor miserable elf.
THE LORD
Is that the sum of thy narration?
Hast never aught but accusation?
Still upon Earth is nothing to thy mind?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! all things on Earth still downright bad I find.
Mortals their piteous fate upon the rack so stretches,
Myself have scarce the heart to plague the wretches.
THE LORD
Can you not speak but to abuse?
Do you come only to accuse?
Does nothing on the earth seem to you right?
MEPHISTO:
No, Lord. I find it still a rather sorry sight.
Man moves me to compassion, so wretched is his plight.
I have no wish to cause him further woe.
THE LORD
Why are you telling me all this again?
Do you always come here to complain?
Could there be something good on earth that you've forgotten?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I'm pleased to say it's still completely rotten.
I feel quite sorry for their miserable plight;
When it's as bad as that, tormenting them's not right.
GOD
Have you nothing else to name?
Do you always come here to complain?
Does nothing ever go right on the Earth?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No, Lord! I find, as always, it couldn’t be worse.
I’m so involved with Man’s wretched ways,
I’ve even stopped plaguing them, myself, these days.
Frequently attributed to Aristotle, but not found in his works. One of the earliest references is in J. A. Haigh, "Character," Great Thoughts from Master Minds (5 Oct 1907). Haigh does not present it as his own thought ("Character, it has been well said, is made up ...").John Christensen notes that the sentiment of the quote is very non-Aristotelian, feeling more like a Christian teaching about sin than a philosophical commentary. Aristotle generally speaks about developing a habit toward virtue (1, 2, 3), not some sort of all-or-nothing moral imperative.
There is no sin punished more implacably by nature than the sin of resistance to change. For change is the very essence of living matter. To resist change is to sin against life itself.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh (1906-2001) American writer, pilot The Wave of the Future (1940)
(Source)
All things being equal, those who have more power are liable to sin more; no theorem in geometry is more certain than this.
[Caeteris paribus, on trouvera tousjours que ceux qui ont plus de puissance sont sujets à pécher davantage; et il n’y a point de théorème de géométrie qui soit plus asseuré que cette proposition.]
Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716) German mathematician, philosopher, diplomat, polymath
Letter to Ernst, Landgrave of Hessen-Rheinfels (9 Jul 1688) [tr. Fasnacht (1952)]
(Source)
Quoted by John Dalberg, Lord Acton (and thus often attributed to him).
Acton's quotation was in his Inaugural Lecture on History, Cambridge (11 Jun 1895). In the lecture, after mentioning the academic precept "never be surprised by the crumbling of an idol or the disclosure of a skeleton; judge talent at its best and character at its worst; suspect power more than vice," he footnotes this Leibniz quotation (in its source French, with the Latin introduction). This was in turn translated into English in G. E. Fasnacht, Acton's Political Philosophy, ch. 6 (1952), after which it became erroneously cited by others to Acton.
The source letter (in which Leibniz is discussing the Jesuits) is collected in Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Series 2, vol. 2, p. 278 (2009), reprinted in Stephen Voss, The Leibniz Arnauld Correspondence (2016) (the Source noted), which offers this alternate translation:
Other things being equal, one will always find that those who have more power are subject to sin more. And there is no theorem of Geometry more sure than this proposition.
[tr. Voss (2016)]
“And sin, young man, is when you treat people like things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.” “It’s a lot more complicated than that –” “No. It ain’t. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they’re getting worried that they won’t like the truth. People as things, that’s where it starts.” “Oh, I’m sure there are worse crimes –” “But they starts with thinking about people as things …”
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Carpe Jugulum [Granny Weatherwax, Rev. Mightily Oats] (1998)
(Source)
A society which reverences the attainment of riches as the supreme felicity will naturally be disposed to regard the poor as damned in the next world, if only to justify making their life a hell in this.
R. H. Tawney (1880-1962) English writer, economist, historian, social critic [Richard Henry Tawney] Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, ch. 4: The Puritan Movement, sec. 4 “The New Medicine for Poverty” (1926)
(Source)
Originally delivered as Holland Lectures, Kings College (Feb-Mar 1922).
We have a tendency to condemn people who are different from us, to define their sins as paramount and our own sinfulness as being insignificant.
Jimmy Carter (b. 1924) American politician, US President (1977-1981), Nobel laureate [James Earl Carter, Jr.]
“A Statesman And a Man Of Faith,” interview by Don Lattin, San Francisco Chronicle (12 Jan 1997)
(Source)
The mind sins, not the body; if there is no intention, there is no blame.
[Mentem peccare, non corpus, et unde consilium abfuerit, culpam abesse.]
Livy (59 BC-AD 17) Roman historian [Titus Livius] Ab Urbe Condita [From the Founding of the City; The History of Rome], Book 1, ch. 58 (27-9 BC)
Reassurances given to Lucretia, wife of Collatinus, after her rape by Sextus Tarquin. She still kills herself.
Different sources use abfuerit or afuerit. Restated as a legal term, it's usually given as Mens peccat, non corpus, et unde consilium abfuit, culpa abest.
Alt. trans.:
"That it is the mind sins, not the body; and that where intention was wanting guilt could not be." [tr. Spillan (1896)]
"The mind sins, not the body, and there is no guilt when intent is absent." [tr. Luce]
"The mind sins, not the body; and where the power of judgment has been absent, guilt is absent." [Source]
"The mind alone was capable of sinning, not the body, and that where there was no such intention, there could be no guilt." [tr. Baker (1823)]
"It is the mind that sins, not the body, and where there has been no consent there is no guilt." [tr. Roberts (1905)]
"It is the mind that sins, not the body; and that where purpose has been wanting there is no guilt." [tr. Foster (1919)]
"It is the will only that is capable of sinning, not the body; and where there is no intention, there can be no guilt." [Source]
Why do you observe the splinter in your brother’s eye and never notice the great log in your own? And how dare you say to your brother, “Let me take that splinter out of your eye,” when, look, there is a great log in your own? Hypocrite! Take the log out of your own eye first, and then you will see clearly enough to take the splinter out of your brother’s eye.
And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.
[KJV (1611)]
Why do you observe the splinter in your brother’s eye and never notice the plank in your own? How dare you say to your brother, “Let me take the splinter out of your eye”, when all the time there is a plank in your own? Hypocrite! Take the plank out of your own eye first, and then you will see clearly enough to take the splinter out of your brother’s eye.
[JB (1966)]
Why, then, do you look at the speck in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the log in your own eye? How dare you say to your brother, 'Please, let me take that speck out of your eye,' when you have a log in your own eye? You hypocrite! First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will be able to see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.
[GNT (1976)]
Why do you see the splinter that’s in your brother’s or sister’s eye, but don’t notice the log in your own eye? How can you say to your brother or sister, ‘Let me take the splinter out of your eye,’ when there’s a log in your eye? You deceive yourself! First take the log out of your eye, and then you’ll see clearly to take the splinter out of your brother’s or sister’s eye.
[CEB (2011)]
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts,
That all sin is divided into two parts.
One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important
And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant.
And the other kind of sin is just the opposite and is called a sin of omission and is equally bad in the eyes of all right-thinking people, from Billy Sunday to Buddha,
And it consists of not having done something you shudda.
Ogden Nash (1902-1971) American poet
“Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man”
(Source)
For the Communists offer one precious, fatal boon: they take away the sense of sin. It may or may not be debatable whether a man can live without God; but, if it were possible, we should pass a law forbidding a man to live without the sense of sin.
Murray Kempton (1917-1997) American journalist. Part of Our Time: Some Ruins & Monuments of the Thirties, ch. 1 “The Sheltered Life” (1955)
(Source)
Natural inclinations are present in things from God, who moves all things. So it is impossible for the natural inclinations of a species to be toward evil in itself. But there is in all perfect animals a natural inclination toward carnal union. Therefore it is impossible for carnal union to be evil in itself.
Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) Italian friar, philosopher, theologian Summa Contra Gentiles, Book 3, ch. 126, argument 3 [tr. Dominican (1923)]
(Source)
Alt. trans.: "Natural inclinations are put into things by God, who is the prime mover of all. Therefore it is impossible for the natural inclination of any species to be directed to an object in itself evil. But in all full-grown animals there is a natural inclination to sexual union, which union therefore cannot be in itself evil."
Satchelmouth was by no means averse to the finger-foxtrot and the skull fandango, but he’d never murdered anyone, at least on purpose. Satchelmouth had been made aware that he had a soul and, though it had a few holes in it and was a little ragged around the edges, he cherished the hope that some day the god Reg would find him a place in a celestial combo. You didn’t get the best gigs if you were a murderer. You probably had to play the viola.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Soul Music (1994)
For the holy are susceptible too to evil, even as you and I, signori; they too are helpless before sin without God’s aid. … And the holy can be fooled by sin as quickly as you or I, signori. Quicker, because they are holy.
William Faulkner (1897-1962) American novelist
“Mistral,” These 13 (1931)
(Source)
Man is a reasoning animal. Therefore, man’s highest good is attained if he has fulfilled the good for which nature designed him at birth. And what is it which this reason demands of him? The easiest thing in the world — to live in accordance with his nature. But this has turned into a hard task by the general madness of mankind; we push one
another into vice.
Seneca the Younger (c. 4 BC-AD 65) Roman statesman, philosopher, playwright [Lucius Annaeus Seneca]
Letters to Lucilius, Letter 41 (c. 65 AD)
(Source)
For my own part, I consider the best and most finished type of man to be the person who is always ready to make allowances for others, on the ground that never a day passes without his being in fault himself, yet who keeps as clear of faults as if he never pardoned them in others.
[Atque ego optimum et emendatissimum existimo, qui ceteris ita ignoscit, tamquam ipse cotidie peccet, ita peccatis abstinet tamquam nemini ignoscat.]
Pliny the Younger (c. 61-c. 113) Roman politician, writer [Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus] Epistles [Epistulae], Book 8, Letter 22 “To Geminus” [tr. J.B.Firth (1900)]
(Source)
Alt. trans.: "The highest of characters, in my estimation, is his, who is as ready to pardon the moral errors of mankind, as if he were every day guilty of some himself; and at the same time as cautious of committing a fault as if he never forgave one."
If God didn’t want women to be looked at, he would have made ’em ugly — that’s reasonable, isn’t it? God isn’t a cheat; He set up the game Himself — He wouldn’t rig it so that the marks can’t win, like a flat joint wheel in a town with the fix on. He wouldn’t send anybody to Hell for losing in a crooked game.
Robert A. Heinlein (1907-1988) American writer Stranger in a Strange Land, ch. 27 [Patty] (1961)
(Source)
What once were vices, are now the manners of the day.
Seneca the Younger (c. 4 BC-AD 65) Roman statesman, philosopher, playwright [Lucius Annaeus Seneca] Moral Letters to Lucilius [Epistulae morales ad Lucilium], Letter 109
We begin to notice, besides our particular sinful acts, our sinfulness; begin to be alarmed not only about what we do, but about what we are. This may sound rather difficult, so I will try to make it clear from my own case. When I come to my evening prayers and try to reckon up the sins of the day, nine times out of ten the most obvious one is some sin against charity; I have sulked or snapped or sneered or snubbed or stormed. And the excuse that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected; I was caught off my guard, I had not time to collect myself.
Now that may be an extenuating circumstance as regards those particular acts: they would obviously be worse if they had been deliberate and premeditated. On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats: it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man; it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am. The rats are always there in the cellar, but if you go in shouting and noisily they will have taken cover before you switch on the light.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
Mere Christianity, “Let’s Pretend” (1952)
(Source)
He spoke the following parable to some people who prided themselves on being virtuous and despised everyone else, “Two men went up to the Temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood there and said this prayer to himself, ‘I thank you, God, that I am not grasping, unjust, adulterous like the rest of mankind, and particularly that I am not like this tax collector here. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes on all I get.’ The tax collector stood some distance away, not daring even to raise his eyes to heaven; but he beat his breast and said, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ This man, I tell you, went home again at rights with God; the other did not. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the man who humbles himself will be exalted.”
The Bible (The New Testament) (AD 1st - 2nd C) Christian sacred scripture
Luke 18:9-14, “The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector” [Jerusalem]
(Source)
And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
[KJV]
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other, for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
[NRSV]
Jesus also told this parable to people who were sure of their own goodness and despised everybody else. “Once there were two men who went up to the Temple to pray: one was a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood apart by himself and prayed, ‘I thank you, God, that I am not greedy, dishonest, or an adulterer, like everybody else. I thank you that I am not like that tax collector over there. I fast two days a week, and I give you one tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance and would not even raise his face to heaven, but beat on his breast and said, ‘God, have pity on me, a sinner!’ I tell you,” said Jesus, “the tax collector, and not the Pharisee, was in the right with God when he went home. For those who make themselves great will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be made great.”
[GNT]
“You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”
Charles Dickens (1812-1870) English writer and social critic A Christmas Carol (1843)
Sometimes oddly paraphrased, "We forge the chains we wear in life."
One of the temptations of upper-middle class life is to create sharp edges of our moral sensitivities that allows comfortable confusions about sin and virtue. The difference between rich and poor is not that the rich sin more than the poor, it is that the rich find it easier to call sin a virtue. When the poor sin, they call it sin; when they see holiness, they identify it as such. This intuitive clarity is often absent from the wealthy, and that absence easily leads to the atrophy of the moral sense.
Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) Dutch Catholic priest and writer Encounters with Merton (2004)
Get in line in that processional,
Step into that small confessional.
There the guy who’s got religion’ll
Tell you if your sin’s original.
If it is, try playin’ it safer,
Drink the wine and chew the wafer.
Two, four, six, eight,
Time to transubstantiate!
Tom Lehrer (b. 1928) American mathematician, satirist, songwriter
“The Vatican Rag,” That Was the Year That Was (1965)
‘Why has sex become man’s chief stumbling block?’ But has it? Or is it only the most recognisable of the stumbling blocks? I mean, we can mistake pride for a good conscience, and cruelty for zeal, and idleness for the peace of God et cetera. But when lust is upon us, then, owing to the obvious physical symptoms, we can’t pretend it is anything else. Is it perhaps only the least disguisable of our dangers.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
Letter (27 Sep 1954)
The Maker of the universe with stars a hundred thousand light-years apart was interested, furious, and very personal about it if a small boy played baseball on Sunday afternoon.
Sinclair Lewis (1885-1951) American novelist, playwright Elmer Gantry (1927)
Whoever destroys a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.
The Talmud (AD 200-500) Collection of Jewish rabbinical writings
Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:9; Yerushalmi Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin 37a
(Source)
Alt. trans.: "Whoever destroys a single life is as guilty as though he had destroyed the entire world; and whoever rescues a single life earns as much merit as though he had rescued the entire world."
Sin? Sin like love was a word hard to define. It came in two bitter but vastly different flavors. The first lay in violating the taboos of your tribe … The other meaning of sin was easier to define because it was not molded by the murky concepts of religion and taboo: Sin is behavior that ignores the welfare of others.
Robert A. Heinlein (1907-1988) American writer Time Enough For Love (1973)
The secret demerits of which we alone, perhaps, are conscious, are often more difficult to bear than those which have been publicly censured in us, and thus in some degree atoned for.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) American poet Kavanagh: A Tale, ch. 30 (1849)
(Source)
Anything I like is either illegal or immoral or fattening.
Alexander Woollcott (1887-1943) American critic, commentator, journalist, wit
(Attributed)
Apparently a gag attributed by Woollcott to a Frank Rand of St. Louis on his radio show in September 1933; it was then directly attributed to Woollcott in Reader's Digest in Dec. 1933. It is sometimes cited to Woollcott's essay "The Knock at the Stage Door," The North American Review (Sep 1922), but not found there.
Variants:
"All the things I like to do are either immoral, illegal, or fattening."
"All the things I really like to do are either immoral, illegal or fattening."
"Everything I want to do is either illegal, immoral or fattening."
HAWKEYE: War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.
FR. MULCAHEY: How do you figure, Hawkeye?
HAWKEYE: Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to Hell?
FR. MULCAHEY: Sinners, I believe.
HAWKEYE: Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them — little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.
Burt Prelutsky (b. 1940) American TV screenwriter, author, columnist, critic M*A*S*H, 5×20 “The General’s Practitioner” (15 Feb 1977)
What human nature does is quite plain. It shows itself in immoral, filthy, and indecent actions; in worship of idols and witchcraft. People become enemies and they fight; they become jealous, angry, and ambitious. They separate into parties and groups; they are envious, get drunk, have orgies, and do other things like these. I warn you now as I have before: those who do these things will not possess the Kingdom of God.
Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.
[KJV (1611)]
When self-indulgence is at work the results are obvious: fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things. I warn you now, as I warned you before: those who behave like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
[JB (1966)]
When self-indulgence is at work the results are obvious: sexual vice, impurity, and sensuality, the worship of false gods and sorcery; antagonisms and rivalry, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagreements, factions and malice, drunkenness, orgies and all such things. And about these, I tell you now as I have told you in the past, that people who behave in these ways will not inherit the kingdom of God.
[NJB (1985)]
The actions that are produced by selfish motives are obvious, since they include sexual immorality, moral corruption, doing whatever feels good, idolatry, drug use and casting spells, hate, fighting, obsession, losing your temper, competitive opposition, conflict, selfishness, group rivalry, jealousy, drunkenness, partying, and other things like that. I warn you as I have already warned you, that those who do these kinds of things won’t inherit God’s kingdom.
[CEB (2011)]
Now the works of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
There is such a thing as internal collapse. Despairing certitude does not infiltrate a human being without displacing and disrupting certain profound elements that sometimes constitute the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this pitch, routs all strength of conscience. These are deadly crises. Few of us emerge from them true to ourselves and steadfast in our duty. When the limit of endurance is exceeded, the most unshakeable virtue is undermined.
[Il y a des effondrements intérieurs. La pénétration d’une certitude désespérante dans l’homme ne se fait point sans écarter et rompre de certains éléments profonds qui sont quelquefois l’homme lui-même. La douleur, quand elle arrive à ce degré, est un sauve-qui-peut de toutes les forces de la conscience. Ce sont là des crises fatales. Peu d’entre nous en sortent semblables à eux-mêmes et fermes dans le devoir. Quand la limite de la souffrance est débordée, la vertu la plus imperturbable se déconcerte.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 4 “Saint Denis,” Book 15 “The Rue de L’Homme Armé,” ch. 1 (4.15.1) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
Valjean "internally collapsing" at the realization that Cosette plans to leave him for Marius, and deciding to track Marius down to confront or even kill him.
There are interior subsoilings. The penetration of a torturing certainty into man does not occur without breaking up and pulverising certain deep elements which are sometimes the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this stage, is a panic of all the forces of the soul. These are fatal crises. Few among us come through them without change, and firm in duty. When the limit of suffering is overpassed, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]
There are such things as internal landslides; the penetration of a desperate certainty into a man is not effected without removing and breaking certain profound elements which are at times the man himself. Grief, when it attains that pitch, is a frantic flight of all the forces of the conscience, and such crises are fatal Few among us emerge from them equal to ourselves and firm in our duty, for when the limit of suffering is exceeded the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
There is such a thing as the sudden giving way of the inward subsoil. A despairing certainty does not make its way into a man without thrusting aside and breaking certain profound elements which, in some cases, are the very man himself. Grief, when it attains this shape, is a headlong flight of all the forces of the conscience. These are fatal crises. Few among us emerge from them still like ourselves and firm in duty. When the limit of endurance is overstepped, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
There is such a thing as spiritual collapse. The thrust of a desperate certainty into a man cannot occur without the disruption of certain profound elements which are sometimes the man himself. Anguish, when it has reached this stage, becomes a panic-flight of all the powers of conscience. There are mortal crises from which few of us emerge in our right mind, with our sense of duty still intact. When the limit of suffering is overpassed the most impregnable virtue is plunged in disarray.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
There are interior collapses. The penetration of a torturing certainty within man does not occur without breaking up and pulverizing certain deep elements that are sometimes the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this level, is a panic of all the forces of consciousness. These are fatal crises. Few among us come through them unchanged and firm in duty. When the limit of suffering is topped, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
There is nothing in the world that renders a man more unlike to a saint, and more like to Satan — than to argue from God’s mercy to sinful liberty; from divine goodness to licentiousness.
Thomas Brooks (1608-1680) English Puritan divine, writer Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices (1652)
A sense of humor keen enough to show a man his own absurdities will keep him from the commission of all sins, or nearly all, save those that are worth committing.
Samuel Butler (1835-1902) English novelist, satirist, scholar The Note-Books of Samuel Butler, ch. 1, “Life” (1912)
Justice does not belong to the Christian way of life and there is no mention of it in Christ’s teaching. Rejoice with the joyous and weep with those who weep; for this is the sign of limpid purity. Suffer with those who are ill and mourn with sinners; with those who repent, rejoice. Be a partaker in the sufferings of all men. Rebuke no one, revile no one, not even men who live very wickedly. Spread your cloak over the man who is falling and cover him. And if you cannot take upon yourself his sins and receive his chastisement in his stead, then at least patiently suffer his shame and do not disgrace him.
St. Isaac of Nineveh (d. c. 700) Assyrian bishop and theologian [a.k.a. Isaac the Assyrian, Abba Isaac, Isaac of Syria, Isaac Syrus] Ascetical Homilies
Did God set grapes a-growing, do you think,
And at the same time make it sin to drink? Give thanks to Him who foreordained it thus —
Surely He loves to hear the glasses clink!
Omar Khayyám (1048-1123) Persian poet, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer [عمر خیام] Rubáiyát [رباعیات] [tr. Le Gallienne (1897), # 91]
(Source)
Given LeGallienne's paraphrasing, I am unable to align this with an original quatrain or other translations.
ANGER: Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back — in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.
Frederick Buechner (b. 1926) American minister, author Wishful Thinking (1971)
(Source)
The care of every man’s soul belongs to himself. But what if he neglect the care of it? Well what if he neglect the care of his health or estate, which more nearly relate to the state? Will the magistrate make a law that he shall not be poor or sick? Laws provide against injury from others, but not from ourselves. God himself will not save men against their wills.
Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) American political philosopher, polymath, statesman, US President (1801-09)
“Notes on Religion” (1776-10?)
(Source)
Labeled by Jefferson "Scraps Early in the Revolution."
O poor mortals, how ye make this Earth bitter for each other; this fearful and wonderful Life fearful and horrible; and Satan has his place in all hearts! Such agonies and ragings and wailings ye have, and have had, in all times: — to be buried all, in so deep silence; and the salt sea is not swoln with your tears.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian The French Revolution: A History, Part 1, Book 5, ch. 5 (1.5.5) (1837)
(Source)
As the prospect of violence mounts within Paris on the night of 13 July 1789. The next day was the storming of the Bastille.
The enemy held my will in his power and from it he had made a chain and shackled me. My will was perverse and lust had grown from it, and when I gave in to lust habit was born, and when I did not resist the habit it became a necessity. These were the links which together formed what I have called my chain, and it held me fast in the duress of servitude.
[Velle meum tenebat inimicus et inde mihi catenam fecerat et constrinxerat me. Quippe ex voluntate perversa facta est libido, et dum servitur libidini, facta est consuetudo, et dum consuetudini non resistitur, facta est necessitas. Quibus quasi ansulis sibimet innexis (unde catenam appellavi) tenebat me obstrictum dura servitus.]
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus] Confessions, Book 8, ch. 5 / ¶ 10 (8.5.10) (c. AD 398) [tr. Pine-Coffin (1961)]
(Source)
Sometimes paraphrased "Habit, if not resisted, soon becomes necessity."
My will the enemy held, and thence had made a chain for me, and bound me. For of a forward will, was a lust made; and a lust served, became custom; and custom not resisted, became necessity. By which links, as it were, joined together (whence I called it a chain) a hard bondage held me enthralled.
[tr. Pusey (1838), and ed. Shedd (1860)]
My will was the enemy master of, and thence had made a chain for me and bound me. Because of a perverse will was lust made; and lust indulged in became custom; and custom not resisted became necessity. By which links, as it were, joined together (whence I term it a “chain”), did a hard bondage hold me enthralled.
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]
The enemy held my will , and with me made a chain for me and bound me. For from a perverse will, lust was made; and in obeying lust, habit was formed, and habit not resisted, became necessity. By which links, as it were, joined together -- therefore I call it a chain -- was I held shackled with a hard bondage.
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]
The enemy held fast my will, and had made of it a chain, and bound me tight therewith. For from a perverse will came lust, and the service of lust ended in habit, and acquiescence in habit produced necessity. These were the links of what I call my chain, and they held me bound in hard slavery.
[tr. Bigg (1897)]
The enemy held my will; and of it he made a chain and bound me. Because my will was perverse it changed to lust, and lust yielded to became habit, and habit not resisted became necessity. These were like links hanging one on another -- which is why I have called it a chain -- and their hard bondage held me bound hand and foot.
[tr. Sheed (1943)]
The enemy held fast my will, and had made of it a chain, and had bound me tight with it. For out of the perverse will came lust, and the service of lust ended in habit, and habit, not resisted, became necessity. By these links, as it were, forged together--which is why I called it “a chain”--a hard bondage held me in slavery.
[tr. Outler (1955)]
The enemy had control of my will, and out of it he fashioned a chain and fettered me with it. For in truth lust is made out of a perverse will, and when lust is served, it becomes habit, and when habit is not resisted, it becomes necessity. By such links, joined one to another, as it were -- for this reason I have called it a chain -- a harsh bondage held me fast.
[tr. Ryan (1960)]
The enemy held my will and made a chain out of it and bound me with it. From a perverse will came lust, and slavery to lust became a habit, and the habit, being constantly yielded to, became a necessity. These were like links, hanging each to each (which is why I called it a chain), and they held me fast in a hard slavery.
[tr. Warner (1963)]
My willingness the enemy held, and out of it had made me a chain and bound me. Of stubborn will ios a lust made. When a lust is served, a custom is made, and when a custom is not resisted a necessity is made. It was as though link was bound to link (hence what I called a chain) and hard bondage held me bound.
[tr. Blailock (1983)]
This brother, who is little remembered, was a complacent miser who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor he encountered, though he never gave them anything but worthless Revolutionary coins or demonetized sous, thereby contriving to go to hell by following the path to paradise.
[Ce frère, dont il est resté peu de souvenir, était un paisible avare, qui, étant prêtre, se croyait obligé de faire l’aumône aux pauvres qu’il rencontrait, mais il ne leur donnait jamais que des monnerons ou des sous démonétisés, trouvant ainsi moyen d’aller en enfer par le chemin du paradis.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 3 “Marius,” Book 2 “The Grand Bourgeois,” ch. 6 (3.2.6) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
This brother, of whom hardly a memory is left, was a quiet miser, who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor whom he met, but never gave them anything more than coppers or worn-out sous, finding thus the means of going to Hell by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); tr. Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]
This brother, who is not much remembered, was a great miser, who, as he was a priest, thought himself bound to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them aught but bad or called-in money, thus finding means of going to Hades by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
This brother, of whom but little memory remains, was a peaceable miser, who, being a priest, thought himself bound to bestow alms on the poor whom he met, but he never gave them anything except bad or demonetized sous, thereby discovering a means of going to hell by way of paradise.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
The brother, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a peaceable skinflint who, being a priest, felt it his duty to give alms to such of the poor as he encountered; but the coins he gave them were always obsolete currency, and thus he found means of going to Hell by way of Paradise.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
To this war of every man against every man, this also is consequent; that nothing can be unjust. The notions of right and wrong, justice and injustice, have there no place. Where there is no common power, there is no law; where no law, no injustice. Force and fraud are in war the two cardinal virtues.
Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) English philosopher Leviathan, Part 1, ch. 13 (1651)
(Source)
We do not what we ought,
What we ought not, we do,
And lean upon the thought
That chance will bring us through;
But our own acts, for good or ill, are mightier powers.
Matthew Arnold (1822-1888) English poet and critic Empedocles on Etna, Act 1, sc. 2, ll. 238-242 (1852)
(Source)
Whenever the devil harasses you, seek the company of men or drink more, or joke and talk nonsense, or do some other merry thing. Sometimes we must drink more, sport, recreate ourselves, aye, and even sin a little to spite the devil, so that we leave him no place for troubling our consciences with trifles. We are conquered if we try too conscientiously not to sin at all. So when the devil says to you: “Do not drink,” answer him: “I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.” One must always do what Satan forbids.
Martin Luther (1483-1546) German religious reformer
Letter to Jerome Weller (Jul 1530)
(Source)
Alt. trans.: "We are soon defeated if we try too hard not to sin. So when the devil says ‘Do not drink’ answer him: ‘I shall drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to!’"
Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.
Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968) American clergyman, civil rights leader, social activist, preacher
Letter from Birmingham Jail (16 Apr 1963)
(Source)
If we say, ‘We have no sin,’ we are deceiving ourselves, and truth has no place in us; if we acknowledge our sins, he is trustworthy and upright, so that he will forgive our sins and will cleanse us from all evil.
If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
[KJV (1611)]
If we say we have no sin in us, we are deceiving ourselves and refusing to admit the truth; but if we acknowledge our sins, then God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and purify us from everything that is wrong.
[JB (1966)]
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there is no truth in us. But if we confess our sins to God, he will keep his promise and do what is right: he will forgive us our sins and purify us from all our wrongdoing.
[GNT (1976)]
If we claim, “We don’t have any sin,” we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from everything we’ve done wrong.
[CEB (2011)]
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
Religion — easily — has the Greatest Bullshit Story Ever Told! Think about it. Religion has convinced people that there’s an invisible man — living in the sky — who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, He has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry, forever and ever, till the end of time! But He loves you! He loves you and he needs money! He always needs money! He’s all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise — somehow just can’t handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story, holy shit!
George Carlin (1937-2008) American comedian
“You Are All Diseased,” HBO Special (1999-02-06)
(Source)
Reprinted, slightly edited, in Napalm & Silly Putty (2001):
Religion -- easily -- has the Greatest Bullshit Story Ever Told! Think about it: religion has actually convinced people -- many of them adults -- that there's an invisible man who lives in the sky and watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And who has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to remain and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry, forever and ever, till the end of time! But he loves you. He loves you and he needs money! He always needs money. He's all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, but somehow ... he just can't handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, pays no taxes, and somehow always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy shit!
I have bought this wonderful machine — a computer. Now I am rather an authority on gods, so I identified the machine — it seems to me to be an Old Testament god with a lot of rules and no mercy.
Joseph Campbell (1904-1987) American writer, professor of literature The Power of Myth, ch. 1 (1988)
(Source)
From interviews between Campbell and Bill Moyers in 1985-86. Broadcast as episode 2 of the PBS television show of the same name. Often truncated: "A computer is like an Old Testament god, with a lot of rules and no mercy."
LEAR: Through tattered clothes small vices do appear.
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.
Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet King Lear, Act 4, sc. 6, l. 180ff (4.6.180-183) (1606)
(Source)
Frightful this is in a sense, but it is true, and every one who has merely some little knowledge of the human heart can verify it: there is nothing to which a man holds so desperately as to his sin.
Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) Danish philosopher, theologian Three Discourses at the Communion on Fridays
It may well be that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition is not the glaring noisiness of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people. It may be that our generation will have repent not only for the diabolical actions and vitriolic words of the children of darkness, but also for the crippling fears and tragic apathy of the children of light.
Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968) American clergyman, civil rights leader, social activist, preacher
“The Christian Way of Life in Human Relations,” speech, General Assembly fo the National Council of Churches, St Louis (4 Dec 1957)
(Source)
Often paraphrased: "We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people." See also here.
Simone Weil (1909-1943) French philosopher Gravity and Grace [La Pesanteur et la Grâce], “To Desire Without An Object” (1947) [ed. Thibon] [tr. Crawford/von der Ruhr (1952)]
(Source)
Men don’t so much blush for their Crimes, as for their Weaknesses and Vanity.
[Les hommes rougissent moins de leurs crimes que de leurs faiblesses et de leur vanité.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 4 “Of the Heart [Du Coeur],” § 74 (4.74) (1688) [Bullord ed. (1696)]
(Source)
Moralism is historically one of America’s great defects. Moralism is intolerant of ambiguity; it perceives reality in extreme terms of good and evil and regards more sophisticated judgments as soft and unworthy. The temptation to moralize is strong; it is emotionally satisfying to have enemies rather than problems, to seek out culprits rather than flaws in the system. God knows it is emotionally satisfying to be righteous with that righteousness that nourishes itself on the blood of sinners. But God also knows that what is emotionally satisfying can be spiritually devastating.
William Sloane Coffin, Jr. (1924-2006) American minister, social activist The Courage to Love, Introduction (1982)
But regardless of whether Hitler or the mass murderer of your choice sincerely regretted his actions in his last moments and made it to Heaven, with all due respect, what difference does it make to you? Apart from the awkward silence if you happen to bump into him there, I mean.
John Russell (contemp.) ("jr") Belief-L (24 Nov. 1999)
EDMUND: This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our own behavior, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star!
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet King Lear, Act 1, sc. 2, l. 125ff (1.2.125) (1606)
(Source)