The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
—George Eliot (1819–1880), the ending of Middlemarch
Dear God,
don't punish me for saying
my life was so lovely!
We're human,
our verbs have tenses,
they're not like Yours,
eternal.
—Adélia Prado (1935—, Brazilian poet), "Woman at Nightfall" (2013), translated by Ellen Doré Watson
Ó Deus,
não me castigue se falo
minha vida foi tão bonita!
Somos humanos,
nossos verbos têm tempos,
não são como o Vosso,
eterno.
"Mulher ao cair da tarde"
Photo by Barbara Jackson on Pixabay
One can learn such a lot and enjoy such a lot in seventy years, and three generations is a long, long time to see human follies and acquire human wisdom. Anyone who is wise and has lived long enough to witness the changes of fashion and morals and politics through the rise and fall of three generations should be perfectly satisfied to rise from his seat and go away saying, 'It was a good show,' when the curtain falls.
—Lin Yutang (1895–1976), The Importance of Living (1937)
Photo by StockSnap on Pixabay
To the dumb question "Why me?" the cosmos barely bothers to return the reply: Why not?
—Christopher Hitchens (1949-2011), in his posthumous book Mortality
Photo by Mabel Amber on Pixabay
It is one of the lessons of fairy-stories (if we can speak of the lessons of things that do not lecture) that on callow, lumpish, and selfish youth peril, sorrow, and the shadow of death can bestow dignity, and even sometimes wisdom.
–J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973), from lecture On Fairy Stories
Photo of a young Afghan refugee by Franz, fsHH on Pixabay
