We are slow to believe that which if believed would hurt our feelings.
OvidRead
Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his hereditary skies.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on humanity's aspiration and connection to their origins or heritage.
In this quote, Ovid suggests that people naturally look upwards, symbolizing hope and ambition, while simultaneously acknowledging their roots and lineage. The 'hereditary skies' imply that our dreams and aspirations are deeply intertwined with the histories and legacies passed down through generations, encouraging us to strive for greatness while recognizing the influence of our ancestors.
In practice
This quote can be used in a graduation speech to inspire students to look towards their future while honoring their background.
We are slow to believe that which if believed would hurt our feelings.
All things human hang by a slender thread; and that which seemed to stand strong suddenly falls and sinks in ruins.
A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by a quip and worried to death by a frown on the right man's brow.
Fas est ab hoste doceri._x000D_ One should learn even from one's enemies.
Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.
The end doesn't justify the means.
To be able to function in late capitalism without being a psychological wreck, it is necessary to accept the insane as standard.
Patience and boredom are closely related. Boredom, a certain kind of boredom, is really impatience. You don't like the way things are, they aren't interesting enough for you, so you deccide- and boredom is a decision-that you are bored.
Words can bring you only up to their own limit; to go beyond, you must abandon them. Remain as the silent witness only.
The man is a humbug β a vulgar, shallow, self-satisfied mind, absolutely inaccessible to the complexities and delicacies of the real world. He has the journalist's air of being a specialist in everything, of taking in all points of view and being always on the side of the angels: he merely annoys a reader who has the least experience of knowing things, of what knowing is like. There is not two pence worth of real thought or real nobility in him. But he isn't dull.
Data is a lot like humans: It is born. Matures. Gets married to other data, _x000D_ divorced. Gets old. One thing that it doesn't do is die. It has to be killed.
The internal effects of a mutable policy poisons the blessings of liberty itself.
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