Cave furorem patientis.
John Dryden translated this into the more familiar ‘Beware the fury of a patient man‘.
Yes, and the patient woman too – and I can testify, from personal experience, to the accuracy of this wisdom. But ol’ Publilius, who was writing back in the first century BC, probably wasn’t that worried about the distaff side.
I’d never heard of the bloke, but he seems to have come up with some beaut words of wisdom, pearls of insight we still, in our unknowing, unthinking, 21st-century way, still use frequently.
There’s a whole bunch of things he is said to have said, here.
“It’s a wee bit on the horrendous side, is this town-going.” – John Clarke/Fred Dagg
The late, and very much missed, John Clarke. For his birthday.
Contains Harris Street, just outside where the library is now, and bits of Victoria Street in that vicinity. Filmed in roughly 1976: it looked much the same when I moved to Wellers in 1982.
The irrational exuberance is coming from inside the house.
‘Of all the many turning points and crucial stages – from primitive ape-like creature through to the sophisticated and marginally less primitive ape-like creature that you see about you at zoos and football matches – the most curious development of all is that of the human brain.
‘The human brain has got man into a lot more trouble than has previously been supposed and unless we come up with some way of putting the brain out of commission or obviating some of the more ludicrous effects of the brain, then I don’t think life’s going to get any better.’
‘It was, after all, Greeks who pioneered the writing of history as what it has so largely remained, an exercise in political ironics—an intelligible story of how men’s actions produce results other than those they intended.’ – J G A Pocock
Pocock was a New Zealander. Not born here, but brought up here and the first ever head of the Canterbury University political science department.
I don’t normally link to Wikipedia, but just this once: there’s more on him here.
I came across this line in a book on the Kennedys, but it seems apt right now. Sadly and worryingly apt.
There is always something stark, and clean-slate-ish, about that straight 1 on the first of January of any year.
Uncluttered, and full of promise. Or, I suppose, if you are going through a rough patch, full of threat or dread.
It’s generally a time of taking stock, this time of year. That downward slash of the 1 on the first of January can be rough.
It’s worth remembering, I think, that things are seldom as bad, or as good, as they appear.
And that however good, or bad, things may seem, the old saying of ‘This, too, shall pass’, is always a useful corrective.