Like there’s no tomorrow, because there is no tomorrow.

The best thing I read today was the Old Nurse in Sophocles’ Trachiniae, specifically her summation after giving the account of Dejaneira’s suicide:

“…ὥστ’ εἴ τις δύο

ἢ κἀπὶ πλείους ἡμέρας λογίζεται,

μάταιός ἐστιν· οὐ γὰρ ἔσθ’ ἥ γ’ αὔριον

πρὶν εὖ πάθῃ τις τὴν παροῦσαν ἡμέραν.

…and so if one

reckons on two days or more,

he does it in vain; for there is no tomorrow at all

before one lives well through the day that is upon him.”

Which reminds me of Elizabeth Bennet’s response to her disappointment in old Pride and Prejudice:

“Upon the whole, therefore, she found what has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present, and prepare for another disappointment.”

There’s nothing stopping us from being at peace today, right now. No one in the world can waste our time but ourself. Boredom is a sin.

Thanks, dear reader, should you ever find me, for being the gadfly of my discipline.

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About philokalos

Philologist, historian, and lover of great books, I started this blog to keep myself alert to the beauty of what I see amid the demands of my work.
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