In peace sons bury fathers, but war violates the order of nature, and fathers bury sons.
Interpretation
War disrupts the natural order of life and death, reversing the expected roles of parents and children.
This quote by Herodotus reflects on the tragic consequences of war, emphasizing how it alters the natural progression of life where typically, parents pass before their children. In peaceful circumstances, it is natural for sons to bury their fathers, but the devastation of war leads to the unnatural scenario where fathers must bury their sons, highlighting the deep sorrow and disruption caused by conflict.
In practice
In a speech advocating for peace, this quote can underscore the devastating impacts of war.
The Scythians take kannabis seed, creep in under the felts, and throw it on the red-hot stones. It smolders and sends up such billows of steam-smoke that no Greek vapor bath can surpass it. The Scythians howl with joy in these vapor-baths, which serve them instead of bathing, for they never wash their bodies with water.
The man who has planned badly, if fortune is on his side, may have had a stroke of luck; but his plan was a bad one nonetheless.
Men trust their ears less than their eyes.
Great deeds are usually wrought at great risks.
The worst pain a man can have is to know much and be impotent to act.
All men's gains are the fruit of venturing.
The problem of our age is the proper administration of wealth, so that the ties of brotherhood may still bind together the rich and poor in harmonious relationship.
Somewhere along the line we started misinterpreting the First Amendment and this idea of the freedom of speech the amendment grants us. We are free to speak as we choose without fear of prosecution or persecution, but we are not free to speak as we choose without consequence.
Oh Senor" said the niece. "Your grace should send them to be burned (books), just like all the rest, because it's very likely that my dear uncle, having been cured of the chivalric disease, will read these and want to become a shepherd and wander through the woods and meadows singing and playing and, what would be even worse, become a poet, and that, they say, is an incurable and contagious disease.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve_x000D_ _x000D_ Has left the Brain that won't believe._x000D_ _x000D_ The Owl that calls upon the Night_x000D_ _x000D_ Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
Religions have always been clearly on to this psycho-therapeutic score. For hundreds of years in the West, Christian art had a very clear function: it was meant to direct us towards the good and wean us off vice.
God! how is it that we fail to recognize that the mask of pleasure, stripped of all hypocrisy, is that of anguish?
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