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August 11, 2007
here we are but pilgrims and strangers
Men in this world are like trees, some slender, some great, some flourishing, some bearing fruit, some withering, some growing, some blown down, and some fruitful, which in the harvest are brought together and laid upon one stack. Neither is there afterwards any difference seen among them, all being cut down, never more to grow again. So all pride, ambition, riches, authority, children, friends, and glory, do in short space grow old, and perish. Only virtue and honesty can make a man happy; only a guilty conscience can make him miserable. The worst that good men can fear is the best that evil can wish for, which is the destruction of the soul in death. But God has given us a sufficient proof of our immortality by rising up his Son from the Dead. Were it not for this hope, our lives would not be worth our care: so fluctuating and foolish a thing is Life. But our Creator has put us into this world in order to our translation to a better; and secretly observes how we acquit ourselves towards our senses, how we resist the torrent of bad examples, and what daily progress we make towards the Heavenly Canon, which is our native country; for here we are but pilgrims and strangers.
Cardan - Three Books of Consolation
Posted by amin at August 11, 2007 12:39 AM