The writing of the wise are the only riches our posterity cannot squander.
Walter Savage LandorRead
We often fancy that we suffer from ingratitude, while in reality we suffer from self-love.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that feelings of ingratitude may stem from a focus on self-love rather than genuine neglect from others.
Walter Savage Landor reflects on the nature of our emotional suffering, indicating that what we often perceive as ingratitude directed towards us is, in fact, a consequence of our own self-centeredness. This self-love can distort our perceptions, causing us to overlook the appreciation we receive from others and to focus instead on our unmet desires or expectations.
In practice
In a motivational speech about self-awareness and emotional health.
The writing of the wise are the only riches our posterity cannot squander.
Those who are quite satisfied sit still and do nothing; those who are not quite satisfied are the sole benefactors of the world.
Death stands above me, whispering low I know not what into my ear; Of his strange language all I know Is, there is not a word of fear.
We listen to those whom we know to be of the same opinion as ourselves, and we call them wise for being of it; but we avoid such as differ from us.
Life and death appear more certainly ours than whatsoever else; and yet hardly can that be called ours, which comes without our knowledge, and goes without it.
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Justice is the insurance which we have on our lives and property. Obedience is the premium which we pay for it.
Forming grammatically correct sentences is for the normal individual the prerequisite for any submission to social laws. No one is supposed to be ignorant of grammaticality; those who are belong in special institutions. The unity of language is fundamentally political.
There is a tendency to seek an objective account of everything before admitting its reality.
Racism is man's gravest threat to man - the maximum of hatred for a minimum of reason.
When you cut into the present the future leaks out.
I wander though China. Without ever having boarded a plane. My travels take place here in the Tokoyo subways, in the backseat of a taxi... all of a sudden this city will start to go. In a flash, the buildings will crumble. Over the Tokyo streets will fall my China, like ash, leaching into everything it touches. Slowly, gradually, until nothing remains. No, this isn't a place for me.
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