Head-dibs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not moving as fast as I once was. Been fighting off some kind of crud. Not much energy left at the end of a day except to get home, eat, fall down and not get up again until the next morning. Can’t stay awake long enough to read much less write. Hope it passes soon. Until next time, here’s more journal Art. 

 Taking a little break from current series. Enjoy some artwork from my journal!

  “The pleasure of loving without daring to tell it, has its pains, but it has its joys also. What transport do we not feel in moulding all our actions in view of pleasing the person whom we infinitely esteem! We study each day to find the means of revealing ourselves, and thus employ as much time as if we were holding converse with the one whom we love. The eyes kindle and grow dim at the same moment, and although we do not see plainly that the one who causes this disorder takes heed of it, we still have the satisfaction of feeling all these emotions for a person who deserves them so well. We would gladly have a hundred tongues to make it known; for as we cannot make use of words, we are obliged to confine ourselves to the eloquence of action.” — Blaise Pascal (1623–1662).  Minor Works.  Vol. 48, pp. 411-421 of The Harvard Classics

  “Let us therefore act, in all our plans and conduct, just as we are accustomed to act whenever we approach a huckster who has certain wares for sale; let us see how much we must pay for that which we crave. Very often the things that cost nothing cost us the most heavily; I can show you many objects the quest and acquisition of which have wrested freedom from our hands.”

  “God is near you, he is with you, he is within you. This is what I mean, Lucilius: a holy spirit indwells within us, one who marks our good and bad deeds, and is our guardian. As we treat this spirit, so are we treated by it.” (Seneca, Moral Letter 41, “On the God within Us”)

 

  “. . . the soul . . . is ruined by uncontrolled prosperity, which is used not only to the detriment of others, but also to the detriment of itself. . . . they are the slaves of their pleasures instead of enjoying them; they even love their own ills, – and that is the worst ill of all! Then it is that the height of unhappiness is reached, when men are not only attracted, but even pleased, by shameful things, and when there is no longer any room for a cure, now that those things which once were vices have become habits.” (Seneca, Moral Letter 39, “On Noble Aspirations”)

  “Philosophy is good advice; and no one can give advice at the top of his lungs. . . . we do not need many words, but, rather, effective words. Words should be scattered like seed; no matter how small the seed may be, if it has once found favourable ground, it unfolds its strength and from an insignificant thing spreads to its greatest growth.” (Seneca, Moral Letter 38, “On Quiet Conversation”)

  “And this way will be afforded you by philosophy. Betake yourself therefore to philosophy if you would be safe, untroubled, happy, in fine, if you wish to be, – and that is most important, – free. There is no other way to attain this end. Folly is low, abject, mean, slavish, and exposed to many of the cruellest passions. These passions, which are heavy taskmasters, sometimes ruling by turns, and sometimes together, can be banished from you by wisdom, which is the only real freedom. There is but one path leading thither, and it is a straight path; you will not go astray. Proceed with steady step, and if you would have all things under your control, put yourself under the control of reason; if reason becomes your ruler, you will become ruler over many. You will learn from her what you should undertake, and how it should be done; you will not blunder into things.” (Seneca, Moral Letter 37, “On Allegiance to Virtue ”)

  “Prosperity is a turbulent thing; it torments itself. It stirs the brain in more ways than one, goading men on to various aims, – some to power, and others to high living. Some it puffs up; others it slackens and wholly enervates. . . .   . . . everything which seems to perish merely changes. Since you are destined to return, you ought to depart with a tranquil mind. Mark how the round of the universe repeats its course; you will see that no star in our firmament is extinguished, but that they all set and rise in alternation. Summer has gone, but another year will bring it again; winter lies low, but will be restored by its own proper months; night has overwhelmed the sun, but day will soon rout the night again. The wandering stars retrace their former courses; a part of the sky is rising unceasingly, and a part is sinking.” (Seneca, Moral Letter 36, “On the Value of Retirement”)

 

  “You wish me to close these letters also, as I closed my former letters, with certain utterances taken from the chiefs of our school. But they did not interest themselves in choice extracts; the whole texture of their work is full of strength. . . .   Look into their wisdom as a whole; study it as a whole. They are working out a plan and weaving together, line upon line, a masterpiece, from which nothing can be taken away without injury to the whole. Examine the separate parts, if you like, provided you examine them as parts of the man himself. She is not a beautiful woman whose ankle or arm is praised, but she whose general appearance makes you forget to admire her single attributes. . . . single maxims sink in more easily when they are marked off and bounded like a line of verse. That is why we give to children a proverb. . . to be learned by heart; that sort of thing can be comprehended by the young mind, which cannot as yet hold more. How long shall you be a learner? From now on

  “This is sound practice—to refrain from associating with men of different stamp and different aims. . . . life is so short; and we make it still shorter by our unsteadiness. . .  . . . I pray that you may get such control over yourself that your mind, now shaken by wandering thoughts, may at last come to rest and be steadfast, that it may be content with itself and, having attained an understanding of what things are truly good. . . “  (Seneca, Moral Letter 32, “On Progress)

  “. . . you need a denser stopple than that which they say Ulysses used for his comrades. . . the song, however, which you have to fear, echoes. . . from every quarter of the world. What then is good? The knowledge of things. What is evil? The lack of knowledge of things. . . .  And besides this, in order that virtue may be perfect, there should be an even temperament and a scheme of life that is consistent with itself throughout; and this result cannot be attained without knowledge of things, and without the art which enables us to understand things human and things divine. That is the greatest good. . . . .  Your money, however, will not place you on a level with God; for God has no property. Your bordered robe will not do this; for God is not clad in raiment; nor will your reputation, nor a display of self, nor a knowledge of your name wide-spread throughout the world; for no one has knowledge of God . . . for this God of whom I speak, though the highest and most powerful of beings

  “Ode to Winter” by Thomas Campbell