It is clear that in mulling over harsh judgments, sinister predictions, and bad memories, we fashion our own sadness; in a certain sense, we savor it.Related posts:
Il est clair qu'à remâcher des jugements sévères, des prédictions sinistres, des souvenirs noirs, on se présente sa propre tristesse; on la déguste en quelque sorte.
"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Saturday, November 10, 2018
Architects of Our Own Sadness
Alain (1868-1951), On Happiness, III (tr. Jane E. Cottrell):