That praises are without reason lavished on the dead, and that the honours due only to excellence are paid to antiquity, is a complaint likely to be always continued by those, who, being able to add nothing to truth, hope for eminence from the heresies of paradox; or those, who, being forced by disappointment upon consolatory expedients, are willing to hope from posterity what the present age refuses, and flatter themselves that the regard which is yet denied by envy, will be at last bestowed by time.
Antiquity, like every other quality that attracts the notice of mankind, has undoubtedly votaries that reverence it, not from reason, but from prejudice. Some seem to admire indiscriminately whatever has been long preserved, without considering that time has sometimes co-operated with chance; all perhaps are more willing to honour past than present excellence; and the mind contemplates genius through the shades of age, as the eye surveys the sun through artificial opacity. The great contention of criticism is to find the faults of the moderns, and the beauties of the ancients. While an authour is yet living we estimate his powers by his worst performance, and when he is dead we rate them by his best.
To works, however, of which the excellence is not absolute and definite, but gradual and comparative; to works not raised upon principles demonstrative and scientifick, but appealing wholly to observation and experience, no other test can be applied than length of duration and continuance of esteem. What mankind have long possessed they have often examined and compared, and if they persist to value the possession, it is because frequent comparisons have confirmed opinion in its favour. As among the works of nature no man can properly call a river deep or a mountain high, without the knowledge of many mountains and many rivers; so in the productions of genius, nothing can be stiled excellent till it has been compared with other works of the same kind. Demonstration immediately displays its power, and has nothing to hope or fear from the flux of years; but works tentative and experimental must be estimated by their proportion to the general and collective ability of man, as it is discovered in a long succession of endeavours. Of the first building that was raised, it might be with certainty determined that it was round or square, but whether it was spacious or lofty must have been referred to time. The Pythagorean scale of numbers was at once discovered to be perfect; but the poems of Homer we yet know not to transcend the common limits of human intelligence, but by remarking, that nation after nation, and century after century, has been able to do little more than transpose his incidents, new name his characters, and paraphrase his sentiments.
The reverence due to writings that have long subsisted arises therefore not from any credulous confidence in the superior wisdom of past ages, or gloomy persuasion of the degeneracy of mankind, but is the consequence of acknowledged and indubitable positions, that what has been longest known has been most considered, and what is most considered is best understood.
PREFACE TO SHAKESPEARE -- Samuel Johnson
God save us from the tyranny of the pure in heart -- H. L. Menken
i, sequere Italiam ventis, pete regna per undas.
spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina possunt,
supplicia hausurum scopulis et nomine Dido
saepe vocaturum. sequar atris ignibus absens
et, cum frigida mors anima seduxerit artus,
omnibus umbra locis adero. dabis, improbe, poenas,
audiam et haec Manis veniet mihi fama sub imos.
Aeneid Book 4
Inde ubi prima quies medio iam noctis abactae
curriculo expulerat somnum, cum femina primum,
cui tolerare colo vitam tenuique Minerva
impositum, cinerem et sopitos suscitat ignes,
noctem addens operi, famulasque ad lumina longo
exercet penso, castum ut servare cubile
coniugis et possit parvos educere natos:
haud secus Ignipotens nec tempore segnior illo
mollibus e stratis opera ad fabrilia surgit.
Insula Sicanium iuxta latus Aeoliamque
erigitur Liparen, fumantibus ardua saxis,
quam subter specus et Cyclopum exesa caminis
antra Aetnaea tonant validique incudibus ictus
auditi referunt gemitus striduntque cavernis
stricturae Chalybum et fornacibus ignis anhelat,
Volcani domus et Volcania nomine tellus.
Hoc tunc ignipotens caelo descendit ab alto.
Aeneid Book 8
ἔνθα δὲ δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκασι τηλεθόωντα,
ὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι
συκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι.
τάων οὔ ποτε καρπὸς ἀπόλλυται οὐδ᾽ ἀπολείπει
χείματος οὐδὲ θέρευς, ἐπετήσιος: ἀλλὰ μάλ᾽ αἰεὶ
Ζεφυρίη πνείουσα τὰ μὲν φύει, ἄλλα δὲ πέσσει.
ὄγχνη ἐπ᾽ ὄγχνῃ γηράσκει, μῆλον δ᾽ ἐπὶ μήλῳ,
αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ σταφυλῇ σταφυλή, σῦκον δ᾽ ἐπὶ σύκῳ.
Therein grow trees, tall and luxuriant, [115] pears and pomegranates and apple-trees with their bright fruit, and sweet figs, and luxuriant olives. Of these the fruit perishes not nor fails in winter or in summer, but lasts throughout the year; and ever does the west wind, as it blows, quicken to life some fruits, and ripen others; [120] pear upon pear waxes ripe, apple upon apple, cluster upon cluster, and fig upon fig.
γέρων δ᾽ ἰθὺς κίεν οἴκου,
τῇ ῥ᾽ Ἀχιλεὺς ἵζεσκε Διῒ φίλος: ἐν δέ μιν αὐτὸν
εὗρ᾽, ἕταροι δ᾽ ἀπάνευθε καθήατο: τὼ δὲ δύ᾽ οἴω
ἥρως Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἄλκιμος ὄζος Ἄρηος
ποίπνυον παρεόντε: νέον δ᾽ ἀπέληγεν ἐδωδῆς
ἔσθων καὶ πίνων: ἔτι καὶ παρέκειτο τράπεζα.
τοὺς δ᾽ ἔλαθ᾽ εἰσελθὼν Πρίαμος μέγας, ἄγχι δ᾽ ἄρα στὰς
χερσὶν Ἀχιλλῆος λάβε γούνατα καὶ κύσε χεῖρας
δεινὰς ἀνδροφόνους, αἵ οἱ πολέας κτάνον υἷας.
Therein he found Achilles, but his comrades sat apart: two only, the warrior Automedon and Alcimus, scion of Ares, [475] waited busily upon him; and he was newly ceased from meat, even from eating and drinking, and the table yet stood by his side. Unseen of these great Priam entered in, and coming close to Achilles, clasped in his hands his knees, and kissed his hands, the terrible, man-slaying hands that had slain his many sons.
Tu ne quaesieris scire nefas quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. ut melius, quicquid erit, pati!
seu plures hiemes, seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrhenum. Sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.
The book was called The Lord of the Sea and had to do with a stong, tough and violent fellow named Hogarth, whose modest plan was to hold the world in one hand. There were plots and counterplots, kidnapings, murders, prisonbreakings, forgeries and burglaries, diamonds large as hats and floating forts larger than Couffignal. It sounds dizzy here, but in the book it was as real as a dime.
-- Dashiell Hammett, The Cutting of Couffingal
A robin sat on the spike top of a hundred foot pine and waited for it to be dark enough for him to sing his goodnight song.
In a little while it was dark enough and he sang and went away into the invisible depths of the sky.
-- Raymond Chandler, Lady in the Lake
Making sex glamerous is a billion-dollar indusrty and it costs every cent of it.
-- Raymond Chandler, The Long Goodbye
Extraordinary! On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse - bassoons and basset horns - like a rusty squeezebox. Then suddenly - high above it - an oboe, a single note, hanging there unwavering, till a clarinet took over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight! This was no composition by a performing monkey! This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing, it had me trembling. It seemed to me that I was hearing a voice of God.
I saw a woman disguised in her maid's clothes hear her husband speak the
first tender words he has offered her in years, only because he thinks
she is someone else. I heard the music of true forgiveness filling
the theatre, conferring on all who sat there a perfect absolution. God
was singing through this little man to all the world - unstoppable -
making my defeat more bitter with each passing bar.
Peter Schaeffer, Amadeus
Il semble que la perfection soit atteinte non quand il ný a plus rien àjouter, mais quand il ný a plus rien à retrancher.
A thing is perfect -- not when nothing more can be added to it, but when nothing more can be taken away.
--Antoine de Saint-Exupery, Terre des hommes (1938), III or
Ch. III: L'Avion, p. 60
Nous n'héritons pas de la terre de nos parents, nous empruntons à nos enfants.
You do not inherit the earth of your ancestors, you borrow it from your children.
--attributed to Saint-Exupery, Nicolas Hulot, Jean Marie Pelt, Sitting Bull and others
cf. http://www.linternaute.com/citation/3373/nous-n-heritons-pas-de-la-terre-de-nos-parents-nous-antoine-de-saint-exupery/