“It has often been said that power corrupts. But it is perhaps equally important to realize that weakness, too, corrupts. Power corrupts the few, while weakness corrupts the many. Hatred, malice, rudeness, intolerance, and suspicion are the faults of weakness. The resentment of the weak does not spring from any injustice done to them but from the sense of inadequacy and impotence. We cannot win the weak by sharing our wealth with them. They feel our generosity as oppression. St. Vincent De Paul cautioned his disciples to deport themselves so that the poor ‘will forgive them the bread you give them’.” (Eric Hoffer, The Ordeal of Change)

“You may talk of the tyranny of Nero and Tiberius; but the real tyranny is the tyranny of your next-door neighbour. What law is so cruel as the law of doing what he does? What yoke is so galling as the necessity of being like him? What espionage of despotism comes to your door so effectually as the eye of the man who lives at your door? Public opinion is a permeating influence, and it exacts obedience to itself; it requires us to think other men’s thoughts, to speak other men’s words, to follow other men’s habits. Of course, if we do not, no formal ban issues, no corporeal pain, no coarse penalty of a barbarous society is inflicted on the offender; but we are called ‘eccentric’; there is a gentle murmur of ‘most unfortunate ideas’, ‘singular young man’, ‘well-intentioned, I dare say; but unsafe, sir, quite unsafe’. The prudent, of course, conform. The place of nearly everybody depends on the opinion of every one else. There is nothing like Swift’s precept to attain the repute of a sensible man, ‘Be of the opinion of the person with whom, at the time, you are conversing’. This world is given to those whom this world can trust. Our very conversation is infected. Where are now the bold humour, the explicit statement, the grasping dogmatism of former days? They have departed, and you read in the orthodox works dreary regrets that the art of conversation has passed away. It would be as reasonable to expect the art of walking to pass away. People talk well enough when they know to whom they are speaking. We might even say that the art of conversation was improved by an application to new circumstances. ‘Secrete your intellect, use common words, say what you are expected to say’, and you shall be at peace. The secret of prosperity in common life is to be commonplace on principle.” (Walter Bagehot, The Character of Sir Robert Peel, 1856)

“Today the number of facts which are accessible are prodigious. Newspapers, radios, libraries pour over us every moment of our lives their stupendous floods of information so that perhaps the greatest educational problem of today is how to teach people to ignore the irrelevant, how to refuse to know things, before they are suffocated. For too many facts are as bad as none at all. Were I ever to write a volume for that famous How To series, it would be on How not to read more than 1500 words a day.” (W. H. Auden, Yale Daily News Banquet Address)

“If you imitate Zola and attack some nuisance in this town tomorrow, you will bring on every symptom and have every experience of the Dreyfus affair. The cost is the same, for cold looks are worse than imprisonment. The emancipation of the reformer is the same, for if a man can resist the influences of his townsfolk, if he can cut free from the tyranny of neighborhood gossip, the world has no terrors for him; there is no second inquisition. The public influence is the same, for every citizen of that town can thereafter look a town officer in the face with more self-respect. But not to townsmen, nor to neighboring towns, nor to Parisians is this force confined. It goes out in all directions, continuously. The man is in communication with the world. This impulse of communication with all men is at the bottom of every ambition. The injustice, cruelty, oppression in the world are all different forms of the same non-conductor, that prevents utterances, that stops messages, that strikes dumb the speaker and deafens the listener. You will find that it makes no difference whether the non-conductor be a selfish oligarchy, a military autocracy, or a commercial ring. The voice of humanity is stifled by corruption: and corruption is only an evil because it stifles men. Try to raise a voice that shall be heard from here to Albany and watch what it is that comes forward to shut off the sound. It is not a German sergeant, nor a Russian officer of the precinct. It is a note from a friend of your father’s offering you a place in his office. This is your warning from the secret police. Why, if any of you young gentlemen have a mind to make himself heard a mile off, you must make a bonfire of your reputations and a close enemy of most men who wish you well.” (John Jay Chapman, Learning and Other Essays)

“The episodes of conflict, of legislative struggle, of school-board clash and educational campaign of which that life was made up, all have the enduring interest that clings to scenes which are lighted up by a true light — things which have been seen in their passage by the eye of genius. Not by their own virtue, but by this vision do they live. Howe’s central thesis is thus given in his own words by Sanborn, being quoted from a report of the Massachusetts State Board of Charities, 1866:

‘The attempt to reduce to its lowest point the number of the dependent, vicious and criminal classes, and tenderly provide for those who cannot be lifted out of them, is surely worthy the best effort of a Christian people. But that the work may be well done, it must be by the people themselves, directly, and in the spirit of Him who taught that the poor ye shall always have with you — that is, near you — in your heart and affections, within your sight and knowledge; and not thrust far away from you, and always shut up alone by themselves in almshouses, or reformatories, that they may be kept at the cheapest rate by such a cold abstraction as a state government. The people cannot be absolved from these duties of charily which require knowledge of and sympathy with sufferers; and they should never needlessly delegate the power of doing good. There can be no vicarious virtue; and true charity is not done by deputy.'” (John Jay Chapman, Learning and Other Essays)

Available at: https://iwpbooks.me/collections-of-translations

• 195 English Translations of Horace’s Carpe Diem (PDF)
• 220 English Translations of Horace’s Integer Vitae (PDF)
• 156 English Translations of Horace’s Aequam Memento (PDF)
• 209 English Translations of Horace’s Otium Divos (PDF)
• 239 English Translations of Horace’s Donec Gratus Eram (PDF)
• 181 English Translations of Horace’s Diffugere Nives (PDF)

“In the light of this description the analogy so passively received nowadays, of the mind as computer, is manifestly fallacious. A computer does not think, it feels nothing, and what it is said to ‘know’ — bits of information all cast in the digital mode — has no fringe. Nor has it a memory, only storage room. On any point called for, the answer is all or none. Vagueness, intelligent confusion, original punning on words or ideas never occur, the internal hookups being unchangeable; they were determined once for all by the true minds that made the machine and the program. When plugged in, the least elaborate computer can be relied on to work to the fullest extent of its capacity; the greatest mind cannot be relied on for the simplest thing; its variability is its superiority. Homer nods, Shakespeare writes twaddle, Newton makes mistakes, you and I have been known to talk nonsense. But they and we can (as the phrase goes) surpass ourselves, invent, discover, create. The late John von Neumann, mathematician, logician, and inventor of game theory, would not allow one to liken the mind to a computer. He knew how his mind worked and he understood his computer. So goodbye to all the bright remarks, in fiction and conversation, about programming oneself to pass an interview.” (Jacques Barzun, A Stroll with William James)

“Quite simply: it is a book one wants to reread. It can stand rereading because it is very full — of ideas and feelings, of scenes and persons real or imagined, of strange accidents and situations and judgments of behavior: it is a world in itself, like and unlike the world already in our head. For this reason, this fullness, it may well be ‘hard to get into’. But it somehow compels one to keep turning the page, and at the end the wish to reread is clear and strong: one senses that the work contains more than met the eye the first time around.” (Jacques Barzun, Begin Here: The Forgotten Conditions of Teaching and Learning)

“Vice,” said Mr. Dooley, “is a creature of such heejous mien, as Hogan says, that th’ more ye see it th’ betther ye like it. I’d be afraid to enther upon a crusade again vice f’r fear I might prefer it to th’ varchous life iv a rayspictable liqour dealer. But annyhow th’ crusade has started, an’ befure manny months I’ll be lookin’ undher th’ table whin I set down to a peaceful game iv solytaire to see if a polisman in citizens’ clothes ain’t concealed there.

“Th’ city iv Noo York, Hinnissy, sets th’ fashion iv vice an’ starts th’ crusade again it. Thin ivrybody else takes it up. They ’se crusades an’ crusaders in ivry hamlet in th’ land an’ places that is cursed with nawthin’ worse thin pitchin’ horseshoes sinds to th’ neighborin’ big city f’r a case iv vice to suppress, We’re in th’ mist iv a crusade now, an’ there is n’t a polisman in town who is n’t thremblin’ f’r his job.

“As a people, Hinnissy, we’re th’ greatest crusaders that iver was — f’r a short distance. On a quarther mile thrack we can crusade at a rate that wud make Hogan’s frind, Godfrey th’ Bullion look like a crab. But th’ throuble is th’ crusade don’t last afther th’ first sprint. Th’ crusaders drops out iv th’ procission to take a dhrink or put a little money on th’ ace an’ be th’ time th’ end iv th’ line iv march is reached th’ boss crusader is alone in th’ job an’ his former followers is hurlin’ bricks at him fr’m th’ windows iv policy shops. Th’ boss crusader always gets th’ double cross. If I wanted to sind me good name down to th’ ginerations with Cap. Kidd an’ Jesse James I’d lead a movement f’r th’ suppression iv vice. I wud so.

“Ye see, Hinnissy, ’tis this way: th’ la-ads ilicted to office an’ put on th’ polis foorce is in need iv a little loose change, an’ th’ on’y way they can get it is to be negotyatin’ with vice. Tammany can’t raise anny money on th’ churches; it won’t do f’r thim to raid a gints’ furnishin’ sthore f’r keepin’ disorderly neckties in th’ window. They’ve got to get th’ money where it’s comin’ to thim an’ ’tis on’y comin’ to thim where th’ law an’ vile human nature has a sthrangle holt on each other. A polisman goes afther vice as an officer iv th’ law an’ comes away as a philosopher. Th’ theery iv mesilf, Hogan, Croker, an’ other larned men is that vice whin it’s broke is a crime an’ whin it’s got a bank account is a necessity an’ a luxury.

“Well, th’ la-ads goes on usin’ th’ revised statues as a sandbag an’ by an’ by th’ captain iv th’ polis station gets to a pint where his steam yacht bumps into a canoe iv th’ prisidint iv th’ Standard Ile Comp’ny an’ thin there’s th’ divvle to pay. It’s been a dull summer annyhow an’ people ar-re lookin’ f’r a change an’ a little divarsion, an’ somebody who doesn’t raymimber what happened to th’ last man that led a crusade again vice, gets up an’, says he: ‘This here city is a verytable Sodom an’ it must be cleaned out,’ an’ ivrybody takes a broom at it. Th’ churches appints comities an’ so does th’ Stock Exchange an’ th’ Brewers’ Society an’ afther awhile other organizations jumps into th’ fray, as Hogan says. Witnesses is summoned befure th’ comity iv th’ Amalgamated Union iv Shell Wurrukers, th’ S’ciety f’r th’ Privintion iv Good Money, th’ Ancient Ordher iv Send Men, th’ Knights iv th’ Round Table with th’ slit in th’ centhre; an’ Spike McGlue th’ burglar examines thim on vice they have met an’ what ought to be done tow’rd keepin’ th’ polis in nights. Thin th’ man that objects to canary bur-rds in windows, sthreet-music, vivysection, profanity, expensive fun’rals, open sthreet cars an’ other vices, takes a hand an’ ye can hear him as well as th’ others. Vice is th’ on’y thing talked iv at th’ church socyables an’ th’ mothers’ meetin’s; ’tis raysolved be th’ Insomnya Club that now’s th’ time to make a flyin’ wedge again th’ divvlish hurdy gurdy an’ meetin’s are called to burn th’ polis in ile f’r not arrestin’ th’ criminals who sell vigitables at th’ top iv their lungs. Some wan invints an anti-vice cocktail. Lectures is delivered to small bodies iv preachers on how to detect vice so that no wan can palm off countherfeit vice on thim an’ make thim think ’tis good. Th’ polis becomes active an’ whin th’ polis is active ’tis a good time f’r dacint men to wear marredge certy-ficates outside iv their coats. Hanyous monsthers is nailed in th’ act iv histin’ in a shell iv beer in a German Garden; husbands waits in th’ polis station to be r-ready to bail out their wives whin they ’re arrested f’r shoppin’ afther four o’clock; an’ there’s more joy over wan sinner rayturned to th’ station thin f’r ninety an’ nine that’ve rayformed.

“Th’ boss crusader is havin’ th’ time iv his life all th’ while. His pitcher is in th’ papers ivry mornin’ an’ his sermons is a directhry iv places iv amusement. He says to himsilf ‘I am improvin’ th’ wurruld an’ me name will go down to th’ ginerations as th’ greatest vice buster iv th’ cinchry. Whin I get through they won’t be enough crime left in this city to amuse a sthranger fr’m Hannybal Missoury f’r twinty minyits,’ he says. That’s where he’s wrong. Afther awhile people gets tired iv th’ pastime. They want somewhere to go nights. Most people ain’t vicious, Hinnissy, an’ it takes vice to hunt vice. That accounts f’r polismen. Besides th’ horse show or th’ football games or something else excitin’ divarts their attintion an’ wan day th’ boss crusader finds that he’s alone in Sodom. ‘Vice ain’t so bad afther all. I notice business was betther whin ’t was rampant,’ says wan la-ad. ‘Sure ye’re right,’ says another. ‘I haven’t sold a single pink shirt since that man Markers closed th’ faro games,’ says he. ‘Th’ theaytre business ain’t what it was whin they was more vice,’ says another. ‘This ain’t no Connecticut village,’ he says. ‘An’ ’tis no use thryin’ to inthrajooce soomchury ligislation in this impeeryal American city,’ he says, ‘where people come pursooed be th’ sheriff fr’m ivry corner iv th’ wurruld,’ he says. ‘Ye can’t make laws f’r this community that wud suit a New England village,’ he says, ‘where,’ he says, ‘th’ people ar-re too uncivilized to be immoral,’ he says. ‘Vice,’ he says, ‘goes a long way tow’rd makin’ life bearable,’ he says. ‘A little vice now an’ thin is relished be th’ best iv men,’ he says. ‘Who’s this Parkers, annyhow, intherferin’ with th’ liberty iv th’ individooal, an’,’ he says, ‘makin’ it hard to rent houses on th’ side sthreets,’ he says. ‘I bet ye if ye invistigate ye’ll find that he’s no betther thin he shud be himsilf,’ he says. An’ th’ best Parkers gets out iv it is to be able to escape fr’m town in a wig an’ false whiskers. Thin th’ captain iv th’ polis that’s been a spindin’ his vacation in th’ disthrict where a man has to be a Rocky Mountain sheep to be a polisman, returns to his old place, puts up his hat on th’ rack an’ says, ‘Garrity, if annybody calls ye can tell him to put it in an anvelope an’ leave it in me box. An’ if ye’ve got a good man handy I wisht ye’d sind him over an’ have him punch th’ bishop’s head. His grace is gettin’ too gay.’

“An’ there ye ar-re, Hinnissy. Th’ crusade is over an’ Vice is rampant again. I’m afraid, me la-ad, that th’ frinds iv vice is too sthrong in this wurruld iv sin f’r th’ frinds iv varchue. Th’ good man, th’ crusader, on’y wurruks at th’ crusade wanst in five years, an’ on’y whin he has time to spare fr’m his other jooties. ‘Tis a pastime f’r him. But th’ definse iv vice is a business with th’ other la-ad an’ he nails away at it, week days an’ Sundays, holy days an’ fish days, mornin’, noon an’ night.”

“They ought to hang some iv thim pollyticians,” said Mr. Hennessy angrily.

“Well,” said Mr. Dooley, “I don’t know. I don’t expict to gather calla lillies in Hogan’s turnip patch. Why shud I expict to pick bunches iv spotless statesmen fr’m th’ gradooation class iv th’ house iv correction.”

(Mr. Dooley’s Opinions)

”I’ve been up to th’ top iv th’ very highest buildin’ in town, Hinnissy, an’ I wasn’t anny nearer Hivin thin if I was in th’ sthreet. Th’ stars was as far away as iver. An’ down beneath is a lot iv us runnin’ an’ lapin’ an’ jumpin’ about, pushin’ each other over, haulin’ little sthrips iv ir’n to pile up in little buildin’s that ar-re called sky-scrapers but not be th’ sky; wurrukin’ night an’ day to make a masheen that’ll carry us fr’m wan jack-rabbit colony to another an’ yellin’, ‘Pro-gress!’ Pro-gress, oho! I can see th’ stars winkin’ at each other an’ sayin’: ‘Ain’t they funny! Don’t they think they’re playin’ hell!’

”No, sir, masheens ain’t done much f’r man. I can’t get up anny kind iv fam’ly inthrest f’r a steam dredge or a hydhraulic hist. I want to see sky-scrapin’ men. But I won’t. We’re about th’ same hight as we always was, th’ same hight an’ build, composed iv th’ same inflammable an’ perishyable mateeryal, an exthra hazardous risk, unimproved an’ li’ble to collapse. We do make pro-gress but it’s th’ same kind Julyus Caesar made an’ ivry wan has made befure or since an’ in this age iv masheenery we’re still burrid be hand.”

(Mr. Dooley on Machinery)