“The chief element of happiness is this: to want to be what you are.”
“For anyone who loves intensely lives not in himself but in the object of his love, and the further he can move out of himself into his love, the happier he is.”
“Just as nothing is more foolish than misplaced wisdom, so too, nothing is more imprudent than perverse prudence. And surely it is perverse not to adapt yourself to the prevailing circumstances, to refuse 'to do as the Romans do,' to ignore the party-goer's maxium 'take a drink or take your leave,' to insist that the play should not be a play. True prudence, on the other hand, recognizes human limitations and does not strive to leap beyond them; it is willing to run with the herd, to overlook faults tolerantly or to share them in a friendly spirit. But, they say, that is exactly what we mean by folly. (I will hardly deny it -- as long as they will reciprocate by admitting that this is exactly what is means to perform the play of life.)”
“Almost all Christians being wretchedly enslaved to blindness and ignorance, which the priests are so far from preventing or removing, that they blacken the darkness, and promote the delusion: wisely foreseeing that the people (like cows, which never give down their milk so well as when they are gently stroked), would part with less if they knew more...”
“...it is a sneaking piece of cowardice for authors to put feigned names to their works, as if, like bastards of their brain, they were afraid to own them.”
“Yet in the midst of all their prosperity, princes in this respect seem to me most unfortunate, because, having no one to tell them truth, they are forced to receive flatterers for friends.”
“Dve smetnje, uglavnom, ne dopuštaju čoveku da dođe do saznanja: stid kojim se zaslepljuje duh i strah koji u svemu vidi opasnost i obeshrabruje čoveka u njegovoj delatnosti. Ludost sjajno oslobađa svih tih teškoća. Mali broj ljudi zna koliko koristi i ugodnosti donosi preimućstvo da te nikad ničega nije stid i da te nikad nije strah!”
“O operă proastă va plăcea celor mai mulţi. Nimic mai firesc, fiindcă, după cum v-am spus, majoritatea oamenilor sunt proşti. Ori, de vreme ce artiştii cei mai neînsemnaţi sunt întotdeauna încântaţi de micimea lor şi sunt linguşiţi de multime, la ce s-ar mai căzni să dobândească haruri adevărate? Până la urmă acestea doar le-ar spulbera buna părere pe care o au despre ei înşişi, i-ar mai domoli şi le-ar împuţina îndeajuns admiratorii.”
“Again what city ever received Plato's or Aristotle's laws, or Socrates' precepts? But,”
“And what is all this life but a kind of comedy, wherein men walk up and down in one another's disguises and act their respective parts, till the property-man brings them back to the attiring house. And yet he often orders a different dress, and makes him that came but just now off in the robes of a king put on the rags of a beggar. Thus are all things represented by counterfeit, and yet without this there was no living.”
“The Stoics define wisdom to be conducted by reason, and folly nothing else but the being hurried by passion, lest our life should otherwise have been too dull and inactive, that creator, who out of clay first tempered and made us up, put into the composition of our humanity more than a pound of passions to an ounce of reason; and reason he confined within the narrow cells of the brain, whereas he left passions the whole body to
range in.
Farther, he set up two sturdy champions to stand
perpetually on guard, that reason might make no assault,
surprise, nor inroad ; anger, which keeps its station in
the fortress of the heart ; and lust, which like the signs
Virgo and Scorpio, rules the appetites and passions.”
“For what benefit is beauty, the greatest blessing of heaven, if it be mixed with affectation? What youth, if corrupted with the severity of old age? Lastly,”
“for self-love is no more than the soothing of a man's self, which, done to another, is flattery. And”
“And so when the whole man will be outside himself, and happy for no reason except that he is so outside himself, he will enjoy some of the ineffable share in the supreme good which draws everything into itself.”
“But who are they that for no other reason but that they were weary of life have hastened their own fate? Were they not the next neighbors to wisdom? among whom, to say nothing of Diogenes, Xenocrates, Cato, Cassius, Brutus, that wise man Chiron, being offered immortality, chose rather to die than be troubled with the same thing always.”
“Sreća voli one koji ne razmišljaju mnogo, voli smelije ljude i one koji sve stavljaju na kocku. Mudrost stvara strašljivce.”
“tis the part of a truly prudent man not to be wise beyond his condition, but either to take no notice of what the world does, or run with it for company”
“Cei ce aleargă după nemurire scriind cărţi nu se deosebesc prea tare de oratori. Cu toţii îmi sunt îndatorati până peste cap, dar de inspirat îi inspir mai cu seamă pe scriitorii de flecuşteţe şi istorioare. Căci autorii care prin opere miezoase aspiră la preţuirea puţinilor oameni înzestraţi cu judecată îmi par mai degrabă vrednici de milă decât de invidie. Îşi storc veşnic creierii, adaugă, schimbă, taie, pun la loc, se întorc, îndreaptă, citesc în stânga şi-n dreapta. Veşnic nemulţumiţi de roadele muncii lor, lucrează nouă sau zece ani la o carte. Şi cu ce se aleg după atâtea cazne şi trude; după atâtea nopti în care n-au gustat dulceaţa somnului? Cu cea mai deşartă şi mai uşuratică răsplată de pe lume, preţuirea câtorva cititori. Şi asta nu-i tot, căci mârjirea lor are şi urmări neplăcute. Sănătate, bunăstare, tihnă, se duc pe apa sâmbetei. Deoarece se lipsesc de toate plăcerile vieţii, ajung urduroşi, traşi la faţă, sfrijiţi, ba adesea şi orbesc. Sărăcia îi împovărează, invidia îi macină, bătrâneţea le este timpurie şi, copleşiţi de toate relele de soiul ăsta, mor înainte să le vină sorocul. Şi toate acestea le înfruntă scriitorii înţelepţi doar de dragul laudelor a încă trei ori patru prăpădiţi asemenea lor. Dimpotrivă, fericit autorul ce intră sub aripa mea ocrotitoare! El nu cunoaşte munca pe brânci şi chinul, scrie tot ce-i trece prin cap, pune pe hârtie tot ce visează noaptea cu mintea-i înfierbântată. Nu şterge şi nu îndreaptă nimic, încredinţat că va avea mai mulţi admiratori de va scrie gogomănii mai mari, pe gustul gloatei neghioabe şi neştiutoare. Ce-i pasă dacă rarii învăţaţi şi oamenii cu judecată îl citesc şi îl dispreţuiesc? Fluierăturile a două sau trei persoane cu capul pe umeri nu vor fi oare înăbuşite de aplauzele tunătoare ce răsună din toate părţile?”
“Başınıza taş düşerse bu sahiden kötüdür; ama utanç, şerefsizlik, ayıp ya da hakaret, ancak sen aldırırsan kötü olur. His yoksa kötülük de yoktur. Halk var gücüyle seni ıslıklarken, sen kendini alkışlarsan, bunun ne zararı olabilir? İşte kendini alkışlamanı mümkün kılan tek şey Deliliktir.”
“Invite a wise man to a feast and he'll spoil the company, either with morose silence or troublesome disputes. Take him out to dance, and you'll swear "a cow would have done it better." Bring”
“There are others who are rich only in wishes; they build beautiful air-castles and conceive that doing so is enough for happiness.”
“so sweet a thing it is not to be wise, that on the contrary men rather pray against anything than folly.”
“İnsanların çoğu aslında delidir, hayır şöyle demeliyiz, çeşitli şekillerde delirmeyen kimse yoktur, bu yüzden zorunluluk benzerini benzeriyle buluşturur.”
“Bătrânii se dau în vânt după copii, şi copiii după bătrâni , fiindcă zeilor le place să-i adune pe cei care se aseamănă. Şi de nu luăm în seamă ridurile şi anii pe care îi poartă bătrâneţea, pot semăna două lucruri mai bine decât bătrânul cu copilul?”
“O halde cesaretimi ve çalışkanlığımı kanıtlayıp övgünüze mazhar olduğuma göre, şimdi sağduyumu kanıtlamama ne dersiniz? Ama haklı olarak ateşle su bir arada durmaz diyebilirsiniz. Gerçekten bu konuda da başarılı olacağıma inanıyorum, siz yeter ki daha önce yaptığınız gibi bana kulak verin ve dikkatinizi eksik etmeyin. Her şeyden önce, sağduyu deneyimle gelişiyorsa, sağduyulu unvanını en çok kim hak ediyor acaba, kah utangaçlığından kah korkaklığından hiçbir şeye girişemeyen bilge mi, yoksa utangaçlık nedir bilmeyen ve tehlike denen şey üzerine hiç kafa yormadığından hiçbir şeyden korkup çekinmeyen deli mi? Bilge, Eskilerin kitaplarına sığınır, buralardan eskilerin söylediği salt ayrıntıları öğrenir. Ama deli hiç düşünmeden tehlikelerin üstüne atılarak, yanıldığımı hiç sanmıyorum, gerçek sağduyuyu edinir. Bana öyle geliyor ki, kör olmasına rağmen Homeros, deli bile yaşadıklarından sonra bilge kesilir derken bu gerçeği görmüştü. Çünkü olayları yaşayarak öğrenmenin önünde iki büyük engel vardır, ilke zihne bir sis perdesi çeken utanç; ikincisi, tehlikeli olduğu açıkça görünen olayların üstüne gitmekten alıkoyan korku. Delilik bizi bu engellerden muhteşem şekilde kurtarır.”
“Folly is the only thing that keeps youth at a stay and old age afar off;" as it is verified in the Brabanders, of whom there goes this common saying, "That age, which is wont to render other men wiser, makes them the greater fools.”
“Peu de gens comprennent l'immense avantage qu'il y a à ne jamais hésiter et à tout oser.”
“Când Platon se îndoia dacă locul femeii se află printre vietuitoarele înzestrate cu judecată sau printre cele lipsite de minte, voia doar să arate prostia nemăsurată a sexului frumos. Femeia e tot femeie, orice ar face, adică tot proastă, oricât s-ar strădui să se prefacă. Încă nu-mi vine a crede să fie femeile aşa de proaste încât să le supere cele ce am spus aici. Sunt doar de acelaşi sex cu ele, sunt Prostia. Dovedindu-le proaste nu le fac oare supremul elogiu? Şi, la o dreaptă cumpănire, ar trebui să vadă că mie, Prostiei, îmi datorează ele fericirea lor cu mult mai mare decât a bărbatilor. Nu eu le-am dat farmecele şi aţâţările, pe care cu drept cuvânt le socotesc ele mai de preţ decât orice şi care le ajută să-i înlănţuiască până şi pe cei mai crunţi tirani? De unde vine oare sluţenia bărbaţilor, cu pielea lor plină de păr, cu barba aceea ca o pădure, de par bătrâni şi în floarea vârstei? De la cel mai mare dintre vicii, înţelepciunea. Dimpotrivă, femeile au obraji catifelati, vorbă cristalină, piele netedă, tot atâtea semne ale unei tinereţi veşnice. Au ele vreo altă dorinţă în viaţă decât să placă bărbaţilor? Gătelile, sulemenelile, băile, dichisirea părului, parfumurile, mirodeniile şi toate celelalte care slujesc la înfrumuseţarea chipului, ochilor ori ascund beteşugurile, nu sunt inchinate acestui scop? Şi nu prostia le ajută pe femei să şi-l atingă? Dacă bărbaţii îndură fără crâcnire toanele femeilor, o fac ei oare din alt motiv decât pentru că aşteaptă ca ele să-i răsplătească dăruindu-le plăcere? Iar plăcerea e totuna cu prostia. Cine ia aminte la toate neroziile pe care le spune şi la toate prostiile pe care le săvârşeşte bărbatul care vrea să intre pe sub pielea unei femei nici că are nevoie de mai bună dovadă.”
“Conniving at your friends' vices, passing them over, being blind to them and deceived by them, even loving and admiring your friends' egregious faults as if they were virtues -- does not this seem pretty close to folly?”
“The purpose of consciousness—any consciousness—was to achieve infinite comprehension. It was as simple as that. If a God existed, humanity must strive to discover this God and help this deity become omniscient, not just in one infinity, but in an infinity of infinities. This was one possible purpose for her species. But her alter ego, using symbolic logic, had arrived at a possibility she considered much more likely: that humanity’s purpose, together with all life across all universes, was not to discover God—it was to become God. If a single human egg could possess consciousness at the instant of fertilization, how would it view itself? It couldn’t possibly predict or comprehend the multi-trillion-celled being it would ultimately become. The entirety of humanity could well be that single, fertilized cell, unaware that it would grow a trillion-fold more complex and eventually become God, perhaps had already become God, in a universe in which all pasts, presents, and futures existed side by side. Humanity was composed of separate individuals now, but an embryo at early stages was also nothing more than a ball of separate cells. But these separate cells would ultimately become connected in wondrous ways to create something unimaginably greater than themselves. And seen in this light, altruism and sociopathy were far from straightforward concepts, beyond even the complexities that Abraham Lincoln had revealed. Absolute altruism on one level could be absolute selfishness in disguise on another, and vice-versa. The cells making up the human body were selfless; gladly sacrificing themselves when necessary for the good of the organism. On the microscopic level they were being foolishly altruistic, foolishly suicidal, but on the macroscopic level they were being purely selfish—ensuring the survival of the body. And what happened when an individual cell became selfish and exhibited Nietzsche’s will to power? It became a cancer. The cell would break free of the restraints on its own division and become immortal—for a while—until its very immortality choked the entire organism to death, killing the selfish cell in the process.”
“Man's desires are limited by his perceptions; none can desire what he has not perceiv'd.”
“Była w nich nie rozpacz zbliżającej się śmierci, ale beznadziejność trwającego na przekór wszystkiemu życia.”
“In 1922, the inflation turned to hyperinflation as the Reichsbank gave up trying to control the situation and printed money frantically to meet the demands of union and government workers. A single U.S. dollar became so valuable thatAmerican visitors could not spend it because merchants could not locate the millions of marks needed to make change. Diners offered to pay for meals in advance because the price would be vastly higher by the time they finished eating.”
“How the Germans can remain allies with the Turks is beyond me. No European nation would ever commit the sorts of crimes that this regime is blithely committing right now.”
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