Two kinds of people live a life without care: one kind are extremely worthy of praise, the other kind are extremely worthy of criticism. The first are those who care nothing for the pleasures of the world and the second (i.e. those who are deserving of criticism) care nothing for haya or modesty.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on two types of people who live carelessly, highlighting the distinction between virtuous and flawed carelessness.
Ibn Hazm presents a thought-provoking perspective on the nature of carelessness in life. He suggests that there are two groups of individuals: those who lead a life free from worldly pleasures and are to be admired, and those who, in their indifference, lack the virtue of modesty and are thus critique-worthy. This distinction serves to provoke deeper reflection on the values we hold and the different motivations behind our actions and states of being.
In practice
In a discussion about values, this quote could highlight the importance of virtue over hedonism.
When you compare yourself with others in matters of wealth, position, and health, you should look at people less favoured than yourself. When you compare yourself with others in matters of religion, knowledge and virtue, look at people who are better than yourself.
And though the years before I die _x000D_ Stretch out interminably, I _x000D_ Shall only count my life in truth _x000D_ As that brief hour of happy youth.
The wise man knows the only fitting price for his soul is a place in Paradise.
How shall a man escape from that which is written; How shall he flee from his destiny?
We do not want to be reminded that it is we, the indigenous people, who are poor and exploited in the land of our birth. These are concepts which the Black Consciousness approach wishes to eradicate from the black man's mind before our society is driven to chaos by irresponsible people from Coca-cola and hamburger cultural backgrounds.
Well, I know, of course, how important it is not to keep a business engagement, if one wants to retain any sense of the beauty of life.
A beautiful woman risking everything for a mad passion. A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a hideous, treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then a child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man. Yes, it was an interesting background. It posed the lad, made him more perfect as it were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.
But truly, if I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes.
Herein would I live; herein would I die; hereon would I dwell in my thoughts and affections; to the withering and consumption of all the painted beauties of this world, unto the crucifying all things here below, until they become unto me a dead and deformed thing, no way meet for affectionate embraces.
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