Tap the page, move to the top or bottom edge, swipe down, or press Tab to reveal reading controls. Use the arrow keys or swipe sideways to turn pages.
Beyond the world and life, there is no more groping. There is only direct seeing, and everything one looks upon is truth.
December 13.
To be unoccupied with oneself and occupied with one’s duty, — to walk toward the goal without greeting the onlookers, — to be one’s own character and not play a part, — to think only of usefulness (and of the spectators’ pleasure, if that pleasure is a good for them), but to heed neither their coldness nor their smile, to turn one’s eyes from their eyes, to forget what is fleeting in them, to aspire only to an esteem that is constant, inward, entire, rooted, and needs no care to endure nor little to establish itself, to await it and not think of it; to wish for approval, but only once in a lifetime and forever, and not at every hour and for a moment; — to care what others will think in the end, but not at all what they think; to lose the vanity and the good behavior of children, to be anxious neither about the mood nor the look of the XXX, as though one were at school or at court; to be a man and cease to be a fop; — finally, to go straight ahead, but without turning back, — tell him so for the year 1800.
Nota bis idem. — Not to please everyone.
The ancients always praise firmness as a heroic and extraordinary quality. By nature they must have been very far from our dryness of heart and manners.
December 14.
— ... finally, all these little tips of servitude’s whip that make it keenly felt.
Fénelon’s “too artfully turned”: dialogue of Virgil and Horace.
December 16.
— On the fulcrum — or — point of suspension.
But in your balances, where is the point of suspension?
Nothing is worse than a dark clarity, for it illuminates only to make one feel privation and to show chaos, nothingness.
Feelings free of disturbance and an intelligence free of exertions and misapprehensions.
December 17.
There is an ideal model of good government to which, despite ourselves, we bring back all our political institutions, whatever fancy we may at first have had to depart from it.
All those sciences whose objects are things of which we carry within us no innate notion or primitive idea are still more imperfect and less satisfying than the others.
That monarchy is poetic; that poets resort to it.
They have wished too much to mingle religion with life, and worship too much with the daily occupations of society. By occupying the eyes, the ears, and all the senses too much with it, they have sated minds with it. By lavishing ceremonies and solemnities too freely, they have made people long for their absence. The multitude of prayers has wearied people of piety. Ambition has undone them.