What would you have me do? Search out some powerful patronage, and be Like crawling ivy clinging to a tree? No thank you. Dedicate, like all the others, Verses to plutocrats, while caution smothers Whatever might offend my lord and master? No thank you. Kneel until my knee-caps fester, Bend my back until I crack my spine, And scratch another’s back if he’ll scratch mine? No thank you. Dining out to curry favour, Meeting the influential till I slaver, Suiting my style to what the critics want With slavish copy of the latest can’t? No thanks! Ready to jump through any hoop To be the great man of a little group? Be blown off course, with madrigals for sails, By the old women sighing through their veils? Labouring to write a line of such good breeding Its only fault is that it’s not worth reading? To ingratiate myself, abject with fear, And fawn and flatter to avoid a sneer? No thanks, no thanks, no thanks! But just to sing, Dream, laugh, and take my tilt of wing, To cock a snook whenever I shall choose, To fight for yes and no, come win or lose, To travel without thought of fame or fortune Wherever I care to go to under the moon! Never to write a line that hasn’t come Directly from my heart: and so, with some Modesty, to tell myself: My boy, Be satisfied with a flower, a fruit, the joy Of a single leaf, so long as it was grown In your own garden. Then, if success is won By any chance, you have nothing to render to A hollow Caesar: the merit belongs to you. In short, I won’t be a parasite; I’ll be My own intention, stand alone and free, And suit my voice to what my own eyes see!
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When a scientist is ahead of his times, it is often through misunderstanding of current, rather than intuition of future truth. In science there is never any error so gross that it won't one day, from some perspective, appear prophetic.
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I think I am one of those who can manage not to take on a completely different appearance under their own glance.
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I don't judge a regime by the damning criticism of the opposition, but by the ingenuous praise of the partisan.
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Falsity cannot keep an idea from being beautiful; there are certain errors of such ingenuity that one could regret their not ranking among the achievements of the human mind.
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Greatness, in order to gain recognition, must all too often consent to ape greatness.
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The least one can say of power is that a vocation for it is suspicious.
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Kill one man and you are a murderer. Kill millions and you are a conqueror. Kill all and you are a God.
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It may offend us to hear our own thoughts expressed by others: we are not sure enough of their souls.
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Nothing leads the scientist so astray as a premature truth.
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My pessimism extends to the point of even suspecting the sincerity of other pessimists.
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It is sometimes well for a blatant error to draw attention to overmodest truths.
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Take heed of critics even when they are not fair; resist them even when they are.
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Prerequisite for rereadability in books: that they be forgettable.
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Certain brief sentences are peerless in their ability to give one the feeling that nothing remains to be said.
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Kill one man, and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you are a god.
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To love an idea is to love it a little more than one should.
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There are certain moments when we might wish the future were built by men of the past.
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The books one has written in the past have two surprises in store: one couldn't write them again, and wouldn't want to.
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To reflect is to disturb one's thoughts.
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My pessimism extends to the point of even suspecting the sincerity of the pessimists.
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We must watch over our modesty in the presence of those who cannot understand its grounds.
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In politics, yesterday's lie is attacked only to flatter today's.
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Truth is always served by great minds, even if they fight it.
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My pessimism goes to the point of suspecting the sincerity of the pessimists.
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To be an adult is to be alone.
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It takes a very deep-rooted opinion to survive unexpressed.
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In order to remain true to oneself one ought to renounce one's party three times a day.
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To be adult is to be alone.
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We are not na?ve enough to ask for pure men; we ask merely for men whose impurity does not conflict with the obligations of their job.
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