You know: in a foolish, undiscriminating way, I've been happy these last few months. I don't know why. I just am. I love my friends; I love my pupils; I love what I read; I -- dammit -- love my thoughts. I love the taste of oranges.
Thornton Wilder in a letter to Gertrude Stein, Aug 14, 1936

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


Now go and brag of thy present happiness, whosoever thou art, brag of thy temperature, of thy good parts, insult, triumph, and boast: thou seest in what a brittle state thy art, how soon thou mayest be dejected, how many several ways, by bad diet, by bad air, a small loss or a little sorrow, or discontent, an ague, etc., how many sudden accidents may procure thy ruin; what a small tenure of happiness thou hast in this life, how weak and silly a creature thou art...Thou dost not flourish and have goods of body, mind, and fortune, thou knowest not what storms and tempests the late evening may bring with it. Be not secure then, "be sober and watch," be not puffed up by thy good fortune, if fortunate and rich; if sick and poor, moderate thyself. I have spoken.

No comments:

Post a Comment