De Rerum Natura Quotes

All religions are equally sublime to the ignorant, useful to the politician, and ridiculous to the philosopher.

All things keep on in everlasting motion, Out of the infinite come the particles, Speeding above, below, in endless dance.

What once sprung from the earth sinks back into the earth.

What is food to one, is to others bitter poison.

For as children tremble and fear everything in the blind darkness, so we in the light sometimes fear what is no more to be feared than the things children in the dark hold in terror and imagine will come true.

O misere menti degli uomini, o uomini ciechi! In quale tenebrosa esistenza e fra quanto grandi pericoli si trascorre questa breve vita!

The first beginnings of things cannot be distinguished by the eye.

hunc igitur terrorem animi tenebrasque necessest non radii solis neque lucida tela diei discutiant, sed naturae species ratioque. (1.146ff.) Therefore it is necessary that neither the rays of the sun nor the shining spears of Day should shatter this terror and darkness of the mind, but the aspect and reason of nature...

Though you outlive as many generations as you will, Nevertheless, Eternal Death is waiting for you still. It is no shorter, that eternity that lies in store For the man who with the setting sun today will rise no more, Than for the man whose sun has set months, even years, before.

La naturaleza consta de cuerpos y vacío

In De Rerum Natura, Lucretius pointed out a very central truth concerning the examined life. That is, that the man of science who concerns himself solely with science, who cannot enjoy and be enriched by art, is a misshapen man. An incomplete man.

postremo pereunt imbres, ubi eos pater aether in gremium matris terrai praecipitavit; at nitidae surgunt fruges ramique virescunt arboribus, crescunt ipsae fetuque gravantur. hinc alitur porro nostrum genus atque ferarum, hinc laetas urbes pueris florere videmus frondiferasque novis avibus canere undique silvas, hinc fessae pecudes pinguis per pabula laeta corpora deponunt et candens lacteus umor uberibus manat distentis, hinc nova proles artubus infirmis teneras lasciva per herbas ludit lacte mero mentes perculsa novellas. haud igitur penitus pereunt quaecumque videntur, quando alit ex alio reficit natura nec ullam rem gigni patitur nisi morte adiuta aliena.

Perhaps Gregor Mendel was inspired by Lucretius: “It may also happen at times that children take a after their grandparents, or recall the features of great-grandparents. This is because the parents’ bodies often preserve a quantity of latent seeds, grouped in many combinations, which derive from an ancestral stock handed down from generation to generation. From these Venus evokes a random assortment of characters, reproducing ancestral traits of expression, voice or hair; for these characters are determined by specific seeds no less than our faces and bodily members.

Once commonly called “atomism,” the genealogy of atheism can be traced all the way back through the Enlightenment to Roman poets such as Lucretius and his poem De Rerum Natura, and behind that to Greek philosophers such as Epicurus and Democritus and their philosophy of atomism. It was precisely such a philosophy that contributed to the classical world a strong sense of fate and the futility of both life and human purpose. And it also provided the dark setting against which the brilliance of the hope of the good news of Jesus shone by contrast—as soon it will once again.

Si donc les corps premiers sont, comme je l'ai montré, solides et sans vide, ils sont nécessairement doués d'éternité. Du reste si la matière n'avait pas été éternelle, depuis longtemps déjà les choses seraient toutes et tout entières retournées au néant, et c'est du néant que serait né de nouveau tout ce que nous voyons.

Si donc les corps premiers sont, comme je l'ai montré, solides et sans vide, ils sont nécessairement doués d'éternité. Du reste si la matière n'avait pas été éternelle, depuis longtemps déjà les choses seraient toutes et tout entières retournées au néant, et c'est du néant que serait né de nouveau tout ce que nous voyons.

Thou standest in the way of thine own good, And overlookest first all blemishes Of mind and body of thy much preferred, Desirable dame. For so men do, Eyeless with passion, and assign to them Graces not theirs in fact. And thus we see Creatures in many a wise crooked and ugly The prosperous sweethearts in a high esteem

Hisce tibi in rebus latest alteque videndum et longe cunctas in partis dispiciendum, ut reminiscaris summam rerum esse profundam et videas caelum summai totius unum quam sit parvula pars et quam multesima constet, nec tota pars, homo terrai quota totius unus. quod bene propositum si plane contueare ac videas plane, mirari multa relinquas.

...pero nada hay más dulce que ocupar los excelsos templos serenos que la doctrina de los sabios erige en las cumbres seguras, desde donde puedes bajar la mirada hasta los hombres, y verlos extraviarse confusos y buscar errantes el camino de la vida, rivalizar en talento, contender en nobleza, esforzarse día y noche con empeñado trabajo, elevarse a la opulencia y adueñarse del poder. Oh míseras mentes humanas!

Though she thou lovest now be far away, Yet idol-images of her are near And the sweet name is floating in thy ear. But it behooves to flee those images; And scare afar whatever feeds thy love; And turn elsewhere thy mind; and vent the sperm, Within thee gathered, into sundry bodies, Nor, with thy thoughts still busied with one love, Keep it for one delight, and so store up Care for thyself and pain inevitable. For, lo, the ulcer just by nourishing Grows to more life with deep inveteracy, And day by day the fury swells aflame, And the woe waxes heavier day by day- Unless thou dost destroy even by new blows The former wounds of love, and curest them While yet they're fresh, by wandering freely round After the freely-wandering Venus, or Canst lead elsewhere the tumults of thy mind.

Ia și privește o specie-n viață în inșii ce-i are Și vei găși că ei nu-s chiar cu totul de o înfățișare: Nici nu ar fi un alt mijloc ca mama să-și știe copilul, Apoi acesta pe mamă; și lucrul le este-n putință, Căci se cunosc ca și oamenii desăvârșit între dânșii. Astfel adesea vițelul în impodobitele temple Cade jertfit lângă-altarul pe care tămâie-i aprinsă, Iară din pieptu-i țâșnesc fumegânde șiroaie de sânge: Însă cu suflet cernit a lui mamă cutreieră pajiști, Cată-n țărână la urma copitelor mici despicate, Ochii străpung oirce loc, tot crezând undeva că se poate Puiul pierdut să-și găsească; oprindu-se, jalnicu-i muget Umple pădurea stufoasă, dar fulger la staul se-ntoarce, Dorul de micul ei drag săgetandu-i întreaga ființă. Nici frunzisoare de sălcii, nici iarbă ce-n rouă-nvioară, Nu pot nici râuri ce curg lunecând între largile maluri, Sufletul să i-l desfete și chinu-i năprasnic s-abată; Nici chiar vițeii ceilalți, care zburdă-n pășunea cea grasă, Nu pot s-aline-al ei zbucium și gându-i aiurea să-ntoarcă; Ea pe al ei și-l tot cată, pe-al ei într-atât îl cunoaște. (Cartea a II-a, v. 347 - 366)

It must not be claimed that anyone can sense time by itself apart from the movement of things. LUCRETIUS, De rerum natura1

Eu care am citit CRITICA RAȚIUNII PURE la 60 de wați, pe Beatrixgasse, pe Locke, Leibniz și Hume, eu care, la lumina slabă a lămpilor din bezna Bibliotecii Naționale, am devorat toate conceptele din toate timpurile, de la presocratici până la FIINȚA ȘI NEANTUL, care i-am citit pe Kafka, pe Rimbaud și pe Blake la 25 de wați, într-un hotel din Paris, pe Freud, pe Adler și pe Jung la 360 de wați, pe o stradă părăsită din Berlin, acompaniată în surdină de răsucirile amețitoare ale studiilor lui Chopin, eu care am studiat pe o plajă genoveză un discurs înflăcărat despre expropierea bunurilor intelectuale, scris pe o hârtie pătată de sare și îndoită de soare, care am citit la Klagenfurt LA COMEDIE HUMAINE în trei săptămâni, în pofida febrei și a slăbiciunii provocate de antibiotice, la München pe Proust până în zori, până când meseriașii au căzut cu acoperiș cu tot în camera mea de la mansardă, pe moraliștii francezi și pe logiștii vienezi, cu ciorapii lăsați, eu care am citit totul fumând treizeci de țigări pe zi, de la DE RERUM NATURA până la LE CULTE DE LA RAISON, care am practicat istoria și filozofia, medicina și psihologia, care am lucrat în ospiciul Steinhof la anamnezele schizofrenicilor și ale maniaco-depresivilor, eu care mi-am luat în Auditorium Maximum, la numai șase grade peste zero și la 38 de grade la umbră, notițe despre De mundo, De mente, De motu, eu care i-am citit pe Marx și pe Engels după ce m-am spălat pe cap și beată moartă pe V. I. Lenin, eu care am citit în derută și în dorința de a evada, jurnal după jurnal, încă de mică, în fața sobei, la foc, ziare, reviste, și cărți de buzunar peste tot, în toate gările, trenurile, în tramvaie, autobuze, avioane, eu care am citit totul despre toate, în patru limbi, fortiter, fortiter, înțelegând tot ce se poate citi, și eliberată pentru o oră de tot ce am citit, mă întind lângă Ivan și îi spun: O să scriu această carte, care încă nu există, pentru tine, dacă vrei cu adevărat. Dar trebuie să vrei cu adevărat, să mi-o ceri, iar eu n-am sa-ți cer niciodată s-o citești. Ivan spune: Să sperăm că o să fie o carte cu final fericit. Să sperăm.

Lucretius expresses this, wonderfully: . . . we are all born from the same celestial seed; all of us have the same father, from which the earth, the mother who feeds us, receives clear drops of rain, producing from them bright wheat and lush trees, and the human race, and the species of beasts, offering up the foods with which all bodies are nourished, to lead a sweet life and generate offspring . . . (De rerum natura, bk. II, lines 991–97) It

sadism of the spectator,” whose roots Lucretius anticipated in De Rerum Natura: “It is sweet, when winds roil the waters of the vast sea, to observe from land the distress of others, not because it is a pleasure that others should suffer, but because it is sweet to see what evils we have escaped.

n’oublie pas qu’il est l’heure de ————————————————— (De Rerum Natura à Robin Williams) hier » et « demain » sont des fictions « ici » et « maintenant » - des bénédictions ne dis pas « aujourd’hui » au passé aie plus de tendresse pour lui même s’il est glissant comme une peau de banane et capricieux comme un jour d’anniversaire garde-le toujours près de toi comme un chagrin joyeux et fidèle comme un amour qui ne veut pas s’en aller et te laisser seul dans les bras d’une dimension inconnue Ronsard disait à peu près la même chose à Hélène voilà pourquoi il vit encore (par-delà les Hélènes qui font la sourde oreille) il est l’heure de s’enivrer - de vin de poésie ou de vertu - disait Baudelaire trois siècles plus tard et à l’heure où je vous parle il est plus vivant (que tous les vivants que je connais) l’acteur-prof du « Cercle des poètes disparus » n’est pas disparu malgré sa disparition car il enseigne toujours le moment présent (par-delà les horloges administratives) ne dis pas « aujourd’hui » au passé aie plus de tendresse pour lui même s’il est glissant comme une peau de banane et capricieux comme un jour d’anniversaire garde-le toujours près de toi comme un chagrin joyeux et fidèle comme un amour qui ne veut pas s’en aller et te laisser seul dans les bras d’une dimension inconnue morale : mets un doigt d’honneur au cirque existentiel au futur piégé par l’homme officiel et va te faire cuire l’œuf de Pâques à Noël sur la terre comme au ciel

Therefore we must consider well celestial happenings, And by what principle the sun and moon run their courses, And all phenomena upon the earth, and governing forces. And then especially, we must nose into with sharp wits, What makes up the soul and what the nature of it is. Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, Book 1, lines 127–31

What, then, is happiness? First of all, we must note that happiness is often confused with pleasure. From the fountains of pleasure, noted the Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius in De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things), there arises something of bitterness that torments us amid the flowers themselves. Or, as another poet put it, even the sweetest rose has its thorns. The particular sting of pleasure is that it is short-lived. Hence we often hunt after a pleasurable repetition, and in the process run the risk of becoming addicted. Pleasure is inherently addictive, precisely because it is not completely fulfilling. However much the pleasure, we always hunger for more. This can lead to extreme situations, such as in the case of a drug addict who forgoes everything—including propriety and sanity—in order to acquire the substance that gives him pleasure. Happiness, on the other hand, is deep, full, and enduring. It is satisfying in itself. Therefore it gives us peace and tranquillity. Whereas suffering follows in the wake of pleasure, either because the pleasure has ended or because its pursuit has led to painful imbalances, happiness has no untoward repercussions. It gives rise to harmony. The American philosopher George Santayana wrote in Little Essays, “Happiness is the only sanction of life; where happiness fails, existence remains a mad and lamentable experiment.”2 Happiness ends all sorrow; it concludes our frantic search for the next injection of pleasure. The person who is happy does not look for greater happiness. But pleasure always spurs us on to experience greater pleasure. It drives us, and in driving us it enslaves us. Happiness, however, sets us free. It is freedom. When we are happy we are whole. The pleasure-seeker is feeling incomplete and therefore is looking for completion, except his or her search is focused on external means that can never bring true happiness. If pleasure were the same as happiness, our Western consumer society, which provides unparalleled access to pleasures of all kinds, would produce the happiest human beings on earth. Instead, our society is filled with desperate and emotionally disturbed and spiritually unfulfilled individuals. In fact, many mental health authorities think it is the sickest society ever to exist on this planet. According to a recent poll, more than one-third of the American population is thought to suffer from one or the other mental illness—from chronic depression to schizophrenia. This is a scary figure, but not surprising when we look at our contemporary lifestyle of work, pressure, haste, drivenness, and consumerism. As long as we are spiritually fragmented, we must expect to also be physically, emotionally, and mentally unfit. Spiritual wholeness and psychosomatic well-being go hand in hand. Millions suffer from chronic diseases that are the result of emotional disturbance and wrong attitudes to life, expressed in unwholesome habits.

Lucrecio (99-55 a. C.) era epicúreo, seguidor de una escuela filosófica fundada en Grecia en el siglo III a. C. y basada en la creencia (realmente visionaria) de que todo lo que existe está hecho de unas diminutas partículas básicas. Los epicúreos llamaban a esas partículas «átomos», esto es, elementos tan pequeños que no pueden dividirse más, que no pueden ser creados ni destruidos. En el De rerum natura, Lucrecio abraza apasionadamente esta idea y la multitud de conceptos derivados de ella: no existe un creador o un proyecto divino; todo lo que forma parte de la creación ha evolucionado y continúa evolucionando, adaptándose y reproduciéndose; los seres humanos son solo uno más entre los millones de organismos del planeta y no desempeñan un papel primordial o único en el universo; no hay por qué temer a la muerte, pues el alma muere y no existe vida en el más allá.

Esas ideas siguen resultando muy conflictivas hoy en día en algunas zonas del mundo, de modo que imaginémonos lo peligrosas y formidables que debían de parecer en una sociedad enteramente controlada por la Iglesia cristiana y sometida a sus órdenes. En lo tocante a la religión, el De rerum natura era implacable: «Todas las religiones organizadas son ilusiones de la superstición [...] [y] son invariablemente crueles».

in Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura (V, 1431) on how human nature knows no upper bound, as if to punish itself.

As we know more or less well how to deal with our individual mortality, so we will deal with the collapse of our civilization. It is not so different. And it’s certainly not the first time that this will have happened. The Maya and Cretans, among many others, already experienced this. We are born and die as the stars are born and die, both individually and collectively. This is our reality. Life is precious to us because it is ephemeral. And as Lucretius wrote: “our appetite for life is voracious, our thirst for life insatiable” (De rerum natura, bk. III, line 1084). But immersed in this nature that made us and that directs us, we are not homeless beings suspended between two worlds, parts of but only partly belonging to nature, with a longing for something else. No: we are home.

we are all born from the same celestial seed; all of us have the same father, from which the earth, the mother who feeds us, receives clear drops of rain, producing from them bright wheat and lush trees, and the human race, and the species of beasts, offering up the foods with which all bodies are nourished, to lead a sweet life and generate offspring . . . (De rerum natura, bk. II, lines 991–97)