Pipistrello's Commonplace Book

C'est au moment où l'on triche pour le beau qu'on est artiste. It's the moment one cheats for beauty that one is an artist. Max Jacob, L'Art Poétique , 1922

Pride is the downward drag of all things into an easy solemnity ... Seriousness is not a virtue. It would be a heresy, but a much more sensible heresy, to say that seriousness is a vice. It is really a natural trend or lapse into taking one's self gravely, because it is the easiest thing to do. It is much easier to write a good TIMES leading article than a good joke in PUNCH . For solemnity flows out of men naturally; but laughter is a leap. It is easy to be heavy; hard to be light. Satan fell by the force of gravity. Gilbert K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 1908

If every action which is good or evil in a man of ripe years were under pittance and prescription and compulsion, what were virtue but a name, what praise should then be due to well-doing, what gramercy to be sober, just, or continent? John Milton, Areopagitica , 1644

  Achtung! Alles Lookenpeepers Das Computermachine ist nicht fur gefingerpoken und mittengrabben. Ist easy schnappen der Springenwerk, blowenfusen, und poppencorken mit Spittzensparken. Ist nicht fur gewerken by das Dummkopfen. Die rubbernecker Sightseeren keepen Hands in das Pocketsrelaxen und watch das Blinkenlights. Common sign on computer room walls in universities in the 1960s

It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money. Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter’d your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth? Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil’d this sacred place, and turn’d the Lord’s temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress’d, are yourselves gone! So! Take away that s

A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it. Max Planck 

  Travellers observe, that in Turkey, though the Mohametans and the Greeks live in the same towns, they differ widely in their manner of living; and in nothing more than in their drinks. The Turks, whose principal drink is Coffee, and one of the articles with which every Turk is obliged to furnish his wife, are fat, fresh, active, healthy, and prolific. The Greeks, on the contrary, who drink but little Coffee, and much wine, are dry, bilious, passionate, and indolent. Benjamin Moseley, A Treatise Concerning the Properties and Effects of Coffee , 1785

The concept of 'truth' as something dependent upon facts largely outside human control has been one of the ways in which philosophy hitherto has inculcated the necessary element of humility. When this check upon pride is removed, a further step is taken on the road towards a cetain kind of madness–the intoxication of power which invaded philosophy with Fichte, and to which modern men, whether philosophers or not, are prone. I am persuaded that this intoxication is the greatest danger of our time, and that any philosophy, which, however unintentionally, contributes to it is increasing the danger of vast social disaster. Bertrand Russell, History of Western Phiosophy , 1946 

Médée: La fuite, l'exile, la mort même, Tout est doux avec ce qu'on aime. Medea: Flight, exile, even death, all are sweet in the company of one's beloved. Act One, Scene 1, Médée , 1693 Music by Marc-Antoine Charpentier Libretto by Thomas Corneille

     "And now," said Herr Erchardt, "I have a pleasure in store for you. The Frau Professor is going to be one of us for the afternoon. Yes," nodding graciously to the Advanced Lady. "Allow me to introduce you to each other."     We bowed very formally, and looked each other over with the eye which is known as "eagle" but is far more the property of the female than that most unoffending of birds. "I think you are English?" she said. I acknowledged the fact. "I am reading a great many English books just now - rather, I am studying them."     "Nu," cried Herr Erchardt. "Fancy that! What a bond already! I have made up my mind to know Shakespeare in his mother tongue before I die, but you, Frau Professor, should be already immersed in those wells of English thought!"     "From what I have read," she said, "I do not think they are very deep wells."     He nodded sympathetically.     "No,

An alleged scientific discovery has no merit unless it can be explained to a barmaid. Sir Ernest Rutherford, Nuclear Physicist

  Some men write their lives to save themselves from ennui , careless of the amount they inflict on others. Others write their personal history, lest some kind friend should survive them, and, in showing off his own talent, unwittingly show them up. Others, again, write their own life from a different motive - from fear that the vampires of literature might make it their prey. Charles Babbage, Passages From The Life Of A Philosopher, 1864

'Must have facts,' said Lord Peter, 'facts. When I was a small boy I always hated facts. Thought of 'em as nasty, hard things, all knobs. Uncompromisin'.' 'Yes, my lord. My old mother---' 'Your mother, Bunter? I didn't know you had one. I always imagined you were turned out ready-made so to speak. 'Scuse me. Infernally rude of me. Beg your pardon, I'm sure.' 'Not at all, my lord. My mother lives in Kent, my lord, near Maidstone. Seventy-five, my lord, and an extremely active woman for her years, if you'll excuse my mentioning it. I was one of seven.' 'That is an invention, Bunter. I know better. You are unique. But I interrupted you. You were goin' to tell me about your mother.' 'She always says, my lord, that facts are like cows. If you look them in the face hard enough they generally run away. She is a very courageous woman, my lord.' Dorothy L Sayers, Clouds of Witness , 1926

A patriot is necessarily and invariably a lover of the people. But even this mark may sometimes deceive us. The people is a very heterogeneous and confused mass of the wealthy and the poor, the wise and the foolish, the good and the bad. Before we confer on a man, who caresses the people, the title of patriot, we must examine to what part of the people he directs his notice. It is proverbially said, that he who dissembles his own character, may be known by that of his companions. If the candidate of patriotism endeavours to infuse right opinions into the higher ranks, and, by their influence, to regulate the lower; if he consorts chiefly with the wise, the temperate, the regular, and the virtuous, his love of the people may be rational and honest. But if his first or principal application be to the indigent, who are always inflammable; to the weak, who are naturally suspicious; to the ignorant, who are easily misled; and to the profligate, who have no hope but from mischief and confusi

I have heard that jugglers visit you - beware what happens. A man turning to jugglers will soon have a wife whose name is poverty. When the jugglers speak to you, pretend not to hear and think of other things. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, C12th founder of the Cistercian Order

Oh! the mocking diablery in strings, wisps of untidy hair, queer trimmings, and limp hats. Alas! that they should have such impish power to detract from the dignity of woman and render man absurd. Dorothy Quigley, What Dress Makes Of Us,   1897

In Books lies the soul of the whole of Past Time; the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream. Thomas Carlyle, On Heroes, Hero-Worship and the Heroic in History , 1841 

If a man is a good man, and an honest man, it is no matter where he was born, and if those who have lately made so much noise about country and party, had been scholars to Gaffer Gingerbread, he would have knocked their heads together for being such Boobies. The Renowned History of Giles Gingerbread , 1768 

Angus thought for a moment. I need a guru, he said to himself. Would Antonia be his guru? He blushed at the unspoken thought. It would be wonderful to have a guru; it would be like having a social worker or a personal trainer, not that people who had either of these necessarily appreciated the advice they received.      Alexander McCall Smith, Love Over Scotland, 2006

  INGREDIENTS LISTS: "D" Decorators' Paste Rye Meal                           4 parts Fine Whiting                     2 Casein                               1 Powdered Alum             0.5 Deodorant Pencil Zinc Phenolsulfonate       10 parts Zinc Oleate                      10 Aluminium Palmitate      7.5  Absorption Base              30 Ceresin                             30 Titanium Dioxide             15 Developer for Radiographic Film Metol                                    1.0 gm Sodium Sulfite                    71.7 Potassium Metabisulfite       4.0 Hydrochinon                         7.6 Sodium Carbonate              36.0 Potassium Bromide               4.0 Water to                          1,000.0 cc. Disinfectant for Telephones Oil of Wintergreen                 0.5 gm Oil of Eucalyptus                   0.25 gm Denatured Alcohol                 15 gm Formaldehyde                        25 cc. Water                                    225 cc. Dry Cleaning Fluid

People actually desire whatever can facilitate communicating with each other; and this seems to be goodness, honour, and serenity, or something else quite similar. For this reason one must never say or do anything that gives the impression that one has little affection or appreciation of others. This is exhibited by the very impolite tendency of many people to fall asleep in the middle of a pleasant group sitting together in conversation. Giovanni Della Casa, Galateo, or, The Rules of Polite Behaviour , 1558

The discretion and high sense of professional honour which have always distinguished my friend are still at work in the choice of these memoirs, and no confidence will be abused. I deprecate, however, in the strongest way the attempts which have been made lately to get and to destroy these papers. The source of these outrages is known, and if they are repeated I have Mr Holmes's authority for saying that the whole story concerning the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant will be given to the public. There is at least one reader who will understand.  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger', The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes , 1927

'Ah! there lies our problem. There is one rather obvious line of investigation.' He took down the great book in which, day by day, he filed the agony columns of the various London journals. 'Dear me!' he said, turning over the pages, 'what a rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely the most valuable hunting-ground that ever was given to a student of the unusual! ... Here are the Daily Gazette extracts of the last fortnight. "Lady with a black boa at Prince's Skating Club" - that we may pass. "Surely Jimmy will not break his mother's heart" - that appears to be irrelevant. "If the lady who fainted in the Brixton bus" - she does not interest me. "Every day my heart longs --" Bleat, Watson - unmitigated bleat! Ah! this is a little more possible. Listen to this: "Be patient. Will find some sure means of communication. Meanwhile, this column. - G."' Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ' The adventure of the Red Cir

  Ships of steel for even keel Need tons and tons of corset steel. Army trucks if they're to hurdle Need the rubber of the girdle. The time has come, the gods have written, Women now must bulge for Britain. Anonymous World War II poem

  Sir -    I believe the inhabitants of London are under the impression that Letters posted for delivery within the metropolitan district commonly reach their destination within, at the outside, three hours of the time of postage. I myself, however, have constantly suffered with irregularities in the delivery of letters, and have now got two instances of neglect which I should really like to have cleared up.    I posted a letter in the Gray's Inn post office on Saturday at half-past 1 o'clock, addressed to a person living close to Westminster Abbey, which was not delivered until 9 o'clock the same evening; and I posted another letter in the same post office, addressed to the same place, which was not delivered till past 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Now, Sir, why is this? If there is any good reason why letters should not be delivered in less than eight hours after their postage, let the state of the case be understood:  but the belief that one can communicate with anothe