companionship of books：Three Days to See
a man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
a good book may be among the best of friends. it is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. it is the most patient and cheerful of companions. it does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. it always receives us with the same kindness, amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each for a book. the book is a truer and higher bond of union. men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. they live in him together and he, in them.
a good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man's life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
books possess an essence of immortality. they are by far the most lasting products of human effort. temples and statues decay, but books survive. time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author's minds, ages ago. what was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. the only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive but what is really good.
books introduce us into the best society, they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. we hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
It is not difficult to imagine a world short of ambition. It would probably be a kinder world: without demands, without abrasions, without disappointments. People would have time for reflection. Such work as they did would not be for themselves but for the collectivity. Competition would never enter in. Conflict would be eliminated, tension become a thing of the past. The stress of creation would be at an end. Art would no longer be troubling, but purely celebratory in its functions. Longevity would be increased, for fewer people would die of heart attack or stroke caused by tumultuous endeavor. Anxiety would be extinct. Time would stretch on and on, with ambition long departed from the human heart.
Ah, how unrelievedly boring life would be!
There is a strong view that holds that success is a myth, and ambition therefore a sham. Does this mean that success does not really exist? That achievement is at bottom empty? That the efforts of men and women are of no significance alongside the force of movements and events? Now not all success, obviously, is worth esteeming, nor all ambition worth cultivating. Which are and which are not is something one soon enough learns on one’s own. But even the most cynical secretly admit that success exists; that achievement counts for a great deal; and that the true myth is that the actions of men and women are useless. To believe otherwise is to taken on a point of view that is likely to be deranging. It is, in its implications, to remove all motives for competence, interest in attainment, and regard for posterity.
We don’t choose to be born. We don’t choose our parents. We don’t choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We don’t, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time or conditions of our death. But within all this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we shall live: courageously or in cowardice, honorably or dishonorably, with purpose of in drift. We decide what is important and what is trivial in life. We decide that what makes us significant is either what we do or what we refuse to do. But no matter how indifferent the universe may be to our choices and decisions, these choices and decisions are ours to make. We decide. We choose. And as we decide and choose, so are our lives formed. In the end, forming our own destiny is what ambition is about.
companionship of books：Three Days to See
a man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
a good book may be among the best of friends. it is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. it is the most patient and cheerful of companions. it does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. it always receives us with the same kindness, amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each for a book. the book is a truer and higher bond of union. men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. they live in him together and he, in them.
a good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man's life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
books possess an essence of immortality. they are by far the most lasting products of human effort. temples and statues decay, but books survive. time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author's minds, ages ago. what was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. the only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive but what is really good.
books introduce us into the best society, they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. we hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
It is not difficult to imagine a world short of ambition. It would probably be a kinder world: without demands, without abrasions, without disappointments. People would have time for reflection. Such work as they did would not be for themselves but for the collectivity. Competition would never enter in. Conflict would be eliminated, tension become a thing of the past. The stress of creation would be at an end. Art would no longer be troubling, but purely celebratory in its functions. Longevity would be increased, for fewer people would die of heart attack or stroke caused by tumultuous endeavor. Anxiety would be extinct. Time would stretch on and on, with ambition long departed from the human heart.
Ah, how unrelievedly boring life would be!
There is a strong view that holds that success is a myth, and ambition therefore a sham. Does this mean that success does not really exist? That achievement is at bottom empty? That the efforts of men and women are of no significance alongside the force of movements and events? Now not all success, obviously, is worth esteeming, nor all ambition worth cultivating. Which are and which are not is something one soon enough learns on one’s own. But even the most cynical secretly admit that success exists; that achievement counts for a great deal; and that the true myth is that the actions of men and women are useless. To believe otherwise is to taken on a point of view that is likely to be deranging. It is, in its implications, to remove all motives for competence, interest in attainment, and regard for posterity.
We don’t choose to be born. We don’t choose our parents. We don’t choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We don’t, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time or conditions of our death. But within all this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we shall live: courageously or in cowardice, honorably or dishonorably, with purpose of in drift. We decide what is important and what is trivial in life. We decide that what makes us significant is either what we do or what we refuse to do. But no matter how indifferent the universe may be to our choices and decisions, these choices and decisions are ours to make. We decide. We choose. And as we decide and choose, so are our lives formed. In the end, forming our own destiny is what ambition is about.
companionship of books：Three Days to See
a man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
a good book may be among the best of friends. it is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. it is the most patient and cheerful of companions. it does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. it always receives us with the same kindness, amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each for a book. the book is a truer and higher bond of union. men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. they live in him together and he, in them.
a good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man's life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
books possess an essence of immortality. they are by far the most lasting products of human effort. temples and statues decay, but books survive. time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author's minds, ages ago. what was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. the only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive but what is really good.
books introduce us into the best society, they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. we hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
It is not difficult to imagine a world short of ambition. It would probably be a kinder world: without demands, without abrasions, without disappointments. People would have time for reflection. Such work as they did would not be for themselves but for the collectivity. Competition would never enter in. Conflict would be eliminated, tension become a thing of the past. The stress of creation would be at an end. Art would no longer be troubling, but purely celebratory in its functions. Longevity would be increased, for fewer people would die of heart attack or stroke caused by tumultuous endeavor. Anxiety would be extinct. Time would stretch on and on, with ambition long departed from the human heart.
Ah, how unrelievedly boring life would be!
There is a strong view that holds that success is a myth, and ambition therefore a sham. Does this mean that success does not really exist? That achievement is at bottom empty? That the efforts of men and women are of no significance alongside the force of movements and events? Now not all success, obviously, is worth esteeming, nor all ambition worth cultivating. Which are and which are not is something one soon enough learns on one’s own. But even the most cynical secretly admit that success exists; that achievement counts for a great deal; and that the true myth is that the actions of men and women are useless. To believe otherwise is to taken on a point of view that is likely to be deranging. It is, in its implications, to remove all motives for competence, interest in attainment, and regard for posterity.
We don’t choose to be born. We don’t choose our parents. We don’t choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We don’t, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time or conditions of our death. But within all this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we shall live: courageously or in cowardice, honorably or dishonorably, with purpose of in drift. We decide what is important and what is trivial in life. We decide that what makes us significant is either what we do or what we refuse to do. But no matter how indifferent the universe may be to our choices and decisions, these choices and decisions are ours to make. We decide. We choose. And as we decide and choose, so are our lives formed. In the end, forming our own destiny is what ambition is about.
companionship of books：Three Days to See
a man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
a good book may be among the best of friends. it is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. it is the most patient and cheerful of companions. it does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. it always receives us with the same kindness, amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each for a book. the book is a truer and higher bond of union. men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. they live in him together and he, in them.
a good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man's life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
books possess an essence of immortality. they are by far the most lasting products of human effort. temples and statues decay, but books survive. time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author's minds, ages ago. what was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. the only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive but what is really good.
books introduce us into the best society, they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. we hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
It is not difficult to imagine a world short of ambition. It would probably be a kinder world: without demands, without abrasions, without disappointments. People would have time for reflection. Such work as they did would not be for themselves but for the collectivity. Competition would never enter in. Conflict would be eliminated, tension become a thing of the past. The stress of creation would be at an end. Art would no longer be troubling, but purely celebratory in its functions. Longevity would be increased, for fewer people would die of heart attack or stroke caused by tumultuous endeavor. Anxiety would be extinct. Time would stretch on and on, with ambition long departed from the human heart.
Ah, how unrelievedly boring life would be!
There is a strong view that holds that success is a myth, and ambition therefore a sham. Does this mean that success does not really exist? That achievement is at bottom empty? That the efforts of men and women are of no significance alongside the force of movements and events? Now not all success, obviously, is worth esteeming, nor all ambition worth cultivating. Which are and which are not is something one soon enough learns on one’s own. But even the most cynical secretly admit that success exists; that achievement counts for a great deal; and that the true myth is that the actions of men and women are useless. To believe otherwise is to taken on a point of view that is likely to be deranging. It is, in its implications, to remove all motives for competence, interest in attainment, and regard for posterity.
We don’t choose to be born. We don’t choose our parents. We don’t choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We don’t, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time or conditions of our death. But within all this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we shall live: courageously or in cowardice, honorably or dishonorably, with purpose of in drift. We decide what is important and what is trivial in life. We decide that what makes us significant is either what we do or what we refuse to do. But no matter how indifferent the universe may be to our choices and decisions, these choices and decisions are ours to make. We decide. We choose. And as we decide and choose, so are our lives formed. In the end, forming our own destiny is what ambition is about.