Thoughts on Truth - Philosophy

Many men tend to contradict on every point, but contradicting rightly’s out of vogue. Well, as for them there’s one old saw that’s all we need: ‘you can keep your opinion, I’ll keep mine.’ But the intelligent are soon persuadable by reason, and they’re easiest to teach. 1

Bacchus is measured best not too much, nor too small – that causes either gloom or mania. He likes to make a foursome with three water-nymphs: that’s when he’s best equipped for bedding up, for if he blows too strong, he turns desire away, and plunges you in sleep – next thing to death. 2

I hold that not the smallest part of being wise is knowing truly what each man is like. 3

Resolve combined with wisdom brings much benefit; without it, it brings harm and misery. 4

Often men’s anger will lay bare their hidden mind; insanity is nowhere near so bad. 5

A son means either fear or pain full-time. 6

Contumely, which brings no gain and none the less does wrong. 7

Detain not any of these guests against his will, nor urge departure if he wants to stay; don’t wake him up, Simonides, if one of us, well laced with wine, falls prey to gentle sleep, and don’t insist he sleep, if he is wide awake: compulsion’s always disagreeable. If someone wants to drink, let slaves stand by to pour; one doesn’t get a nice time every night. But I’ll go home – I’ve had my measure of sweet wine – and think of sleep, that frees us from all ills. I’ve reached the stage where wine sits sweetest in a man: I’m neither sober, nor unduly drunk. When someone overshoots the measure of his drink, he’s no more in control of tongue and mind. He says wild things that make the sober blush – and feels no shame in anything he does while drunk – a level-headed man before, but now a fool. Take note of this, and do not drink too much, but either rise before you’re drunk (don’t let your greed bully you like some wretched daily help) or, if you stay, don’t drink. But no, you always chirp this foolish ‘Fill her up!’ That’s why you’re drunk. Yes, one’s a loving-cup, another’s been set up, one’s good for the gods’ libation, one’s a sconce – you can’t say no. In truth, your champion’s he that drinks cup after cup and yet says nothing rude. Well, stay and make good talk beside your mixing-bowl; avoid disputes as long as ever you may; speak openly, let all hear what you say to one: that way a party turns out not half bad. 8a

If I had wealth, Simonides, as once I had, I’d not feel bad in high-class company; but now I see it pass me by, and I’ve no voice, from want, though I’d have judged better than most that we’re adrift, our white sails shipped before the storm, upon the Melian sea in blackest night. They can’t agree to bale out, while the waves wash in on both sides. We can scarce hope to survive, the way they’re going on: they’ve sacked the excellent helmsman who always kept such skilful watch; they’re plundering the cargo, and all order’s gone; there’s no more sharing out on equal terms; the porters rule; rogues lord it over men of worth. I fear the sea may swallow up the ship. There, that’s my coded message to the upper class; and even a hick may grasp it, if he’s smart. 8b

Alas, I love a soft-skinned lad, who shows me up to all our friends against my every wish. I’ll bear it unconcealed – one’s often forced to things; it’s no bad-looking boy I’ve fallen for. Boy-love’s a pleasure; after all, once Kronos’ son, king of immortals, fell for Ganymede, seized him and took him to Olympus, gave him rank divine, with all his lovely boyhood’s bloom. Therefore, Simonides, don’t wonder if I too am found in thrall to a delightful lad. 8c

I hold it is long practice, friend, and this constitutes human nature in the end. 9

The cleverest and most stupid thing is - time. pg. 10