Amass here and now whatever riches you like of this earth, subject to thieves and to moths. What are you boasting about? It's because you're weak that you need so many things. You need to wear a lot of clothes, because you can't put up with the cold; you make use of animals, because you can't walk on your feet. All these things are the crutches of weakness, not the badges of power.
Compara nunc quaslibet divitias terrae huius, obnoxias furibus, tineis. Quid te iactas? Quia infirmus es, ideo tibi sunt multa necessaria. Opus est multum vestiaris, quia frigus pati non potes; iumentis utaris, quia pedibus ambulare non potes. Ista fulcimenta sunt infirmitatis, non ornamenta potestatis.
"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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Wednesday, November 08, 2023
Weakness, Not Power
Augustine, Sermons 37.25 (Patrologia Latina, vol. 38, col. 232; tr. Edmund Hill):