Travels With Herodotus Quotes

A journey, after all, neither begins in the instant we set out, nor ends when we have reached our door step once again. It starts much earlier and is really never over, because the film of memory continues running on inside of us long after we have come to a physical standstill. Indeed, there exists something like a contagion of travel, and the disease is essentially incurable.

Reading list (1972 edition)[edit] 1. Homer – Iliad, Odyssey 2. The Old Testament 3. Aeschylus – Tragedies 4. Sophocles – Tragedies 5. Herodotus – Histories 6. Euripides – Tragedies 7. Thucydides – History of the Peloponnesian War 8. Hippocrates – Medical Writings 9. Aristophanes – Comedies 10. Plato – Dialogues 11. Aristotle – Works 12. Epicurus – Letter to Herodotus; Letter to Menoecus 13. Euclid – Elements 14. Archimedes – Works 15. Apollonius of Perga – Conic Sections 16. Cicero – Works 17. Lucretius – On the Nature of Things 18. Virgil – Works 19. Horace – Works 20. Livy – History of Rome 21. Ovid – Works 22. Plutarch – Parallel Lives; Moralia 23. Tacitus – Histories; Annals; Agricola Germania 24. Nicomachus of Gerasa – Introduction to Arithmetic 25. Epictetus – Discourses; Encheiridion 26. Ptolemy – Almagest 27. Lucian – Works 28. Marcus Aurelius – Meditations 29. Galen – On the Natural Faculties 30. The New Testament 31. Plotinus – The Enneads 32. St. Augustine – On the Teacher; Confessions; City of God; On Christian Doctrine 33. The Song of Roland 34. The Nibelungenlied 35. The Saga of Burnt Njál 36. St. Thomas Aquinas – Summa Theologica 37. Dante Alighieri – The Divine Comedy;The New Life; On Monarchy 38. Geoffrey Chaucer – Troilus and Criseyde; The Canterbury Tales 39. Leonardo da Vinci – Notebooks 40. Niccolò Machiavelli – The Prince; Discourses on the First Ten Books of Livy 41. Desiderius Erasmus – The Praise of Folly 42. Nicolaus Copernicus – On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres 43. Thomas More – Utopia 44. Martin Luther – Table Talk; Three Treatises 45. François Rabelais – Gargantua and Pantagruel 46. John Calvin – Institutes of the Christian Religion 47. Michel de Montaigne – Essays 48. William Gilbert – On the Loadstone and Magnetic Bodies 49. Miguel de Cervantes – Don Quixote 50. Edmund Spenser – Prothalamion; The Faerie Queene 51. Francis Bacon – Essays; Advancement of Learning; Novum Organum, New Atlantis 52. William Shakespeare – Poetry and Plays 53. Galileo Galilei – Starry Messenger; Dialogues Concerning Two New Sciences 54. Johannes Kepler – Epitome of Copernican Astronomy; Concerning the Harmonies of the World 55. William Harvey – On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals; On the Circulation of the Blood; On the Generation of Animals 56. Thomas Hobbes – Leviathan 57. René Descartes – Rules for the Direction of the Mind; Discourse on the Method; Geometry; Meditations on First Philosophy 58. John Milton – Works 59. Molière – Comedies 60. Blaise Pascal – The Provincial Letters; Pensees; Scientific Treatises 61. Christiaan Huygens – Treatise on Light 62. Benedict de Spinoza – Ethics 63. John Locke – Letter Concerning Toleration; Of Civil Government; Essay Concerning Human Understanding;Thoughts Concerning Education 64. Jean Baptiste Racine – Tragedies 65. Isaac Newton – Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy; Optics 66. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz – Discourse on Metaphysics; New Essays Concerning Human Understanding;Monadology 67. Daniel Defoe – Robinson Crusoe 68. Jonathan Swift – A Tale of a Tub; Journal to Stella; Gulliver's Travels; A Modest Proposal 69. William Congreve – The Way of the World 70. George Berkeley – Principles of Human Knowledge 71. Alexander Pope – Essay on Criticism; Rape of the Lock; Essay on Man 72. Charles de Secondat, baron de Montesquieu – Persian Letters; Spirit of Laws 73. Voltaire – Letters on the English; Candide; Philosophical Dictionary 74. Henry Fielding – Joseph Andrews; Tom Jones 75. Samuel Johnson – The Vanity of Human Wishes; Dictionary; Rasselas; The Lives of the Poets

There aren't many such enthusiasts born. The average person is not especially curious about the world. He is alive, and being somehow obliged to deal with this condition, feels the less effort it requires, the better. Whereas learning about the world is labor, and a great all-consuming one at that. Most people develop quite antithetical talents, in fact - to look without seeing, to listen without hearing, mainly to preserve onself within oneself.

We do not really know what draws a human being out into the world. Is it curiosity? A hunger for experience? An addiction to wonderment? The man who ceases to be astonished is hollow, possessed of an extinguished heart. If he believes that everything has already happened, that he has seen it all, then something most precious has died within him—the delight in life.

in reference to Persepolis and all palaces, cities and temples of the past: could these wonders have come into being without that suffering? without the overseer's whip, the slave's fear, the ruler's vanity? was not the monumentality of past epochs created by that which is negative and evil in man?

Pojąłem, że każdy świat ma własną tajemnicę i że dostęp do niej jest tylko na drodze poznania języka. <...> Rozumiałem, że im więcej będę znał słów, tym bogatszy, pełniejszy i bardziej różnorodny świat otworzy się przede mną.

The man who ceases to be astonished is hollow, possessed of an extinguished heart.

Man knows, and in the course of years he comes to know it increasingly well, feeling it ever more acutely, that memory is weak and fleeting, and if he doesn't write down what he has learned and experienced, that which he carries within him will perish when he does. This is when it seems everyone wants to write a book. Singers and football players, politicians and millionaires. And if they themselves do not know how, or else lack the time, they commission someone else to do it for them...engendering this reality is the impression of writing as a simple pursuit, though those who subscribe to that view might do well to ponder Thomas Mann's observation that, 'a writer is a man for whom writing is more difficult than it is for others

We stand in darkness, surrounded by light

This is natural: one must read Herodotus's book-and every great book-repeatedly; with each reading it will reveal another layer, previously overlooked themes, images, and meanings. For within every great book there are several others.

There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.' The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,' used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,' the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.' Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.' There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred.

Such people, while useful, even agreeable, to others, are, if truth be told, frequently unhappy–lonely in fact. Yes, they seek out others, and it may even seem to them that in a certain country or city they have managed to find true kinship and fellowship, having come to know and learn about a people; but they wake up one day and suddenly feel that nothing actually binds them to these people, that they can leave here at once. They realize that another country, some other people, have now beguiled them, and that yesterday’s most riveting event now pales and loses all meaning and significance. For all intents and purposes, they do not grow attached to anything, do not put down deep roots. Their empathy is sincere, but superficial. If asked which of the countries they have visited they like best, they are embarrassed–they do not know how to answer. Which one? In a certain sense–all of them. There is something compelling about each. To which country would they like to return once more? Again, embarrassment–they had never asked themselves such a question. The one certainty is that they would like to be back on the road, going somewhere. To be on their way again–that is the dream.

I was seized at once with a profound fascination, a burning thirst to learn, to immerse myself totally, to melt away, to become as one with this foreign universe. To know it as if I had been born and raised there, begun life there. I wanted to learn the language, I wanted to read the books, I wanted to penetrate every nook and cranny. It was a kind of malady, a dangerous weakness, because I also realized that these civilizations are so enormous, so rich, complex, and varied, that getting to know even a fragment of one of them, a mere scrap, would require devoting one's whole life to the enterprise. Cultures are edifices with countless rooms, corridors, balconies, and attics, all arranged, furthermore, into such twisting, turning labyrinths, that if you enter one of them, there is no exit, no retreat, no turning back. To become a Hindu scholar, a Sinologist, an Arabist, or a Hebraist is a lofty all-consuming pursuit, leaving no space or time for anything else.

A good book is like a good friend, do you know, Lacey? One you can turn to when the night is cold and you are lonely. And there is old Herodotus, standing ready to regale me with tales of his travels.

People who dislike budging from their homes or walking beyond their own backyards--and they are always and everywhere in the majority--treat Herodotus' sort, fundamentally unconnected to anyone or anything, as freaks, fanatics, lunatics even.

on war and conquest: in the realm of human affairs one also needs a pretext. it is important to give it the rank of a universal imperative or of a divine commandment. The range of choices is not great; either it is that we must defend ourselves, or that we have an obligation to help others, or that we are fulfilling heaven's will. the optimal pretext would link all three of the motives.

[…] I began to see Algiers as one of the most fascinating and dramatic places on earth. In the small space of this beautiful but congested city intersected two great conflicts of the contemporary world. The first was the one between Christianity and Islam (expressed here in the clash between colonizing France and colonized Algeria). The second, which acquired a sharpness of focus immediately after the independence and departure of the French, was a conflict at the very heart of Islam, between its open, dialectical — I would even say “Mediterranean” — current and its other, inward-looking one, born of a sense of uncertainty and confusion vis-à-vis the contemporary world, guided by fundamentalists who take advantage of modern technology and organizational principles yet at the same time deem the defense of faith and custom against modernity as the condition of their own existence, their sole identity. […] In Algiers one speaks simply of the existence of two varieties of Islam — one, which is called the Islam of the desert, and a second, which is defined as the Islam of the river (or of the sea). The first is the religion practiced by warlike nomadic tribes struggling to survive in one of the world's most hostile environments, the Sahara. The second Islam is the faith of merchants, itinerant peddlers, people of the road and of the bazaar, for whom openness, compromise, and exchange are not only beneficial to trade, but necessary to life itself.

Kui maailma valitses mõistus, kas siis ajalugu üldse olekski?

Rahu ajal matavad lapsed isasid, kuid sõja ajal isad lapsi.

Need on ainukesed hetked, kui ma olen tundnud tõeist üksindust: seistes ihuüksi silmitsi karistamatu vägivallaga. Maailm tühjeneb, vaikib, sureb välja ning kaob.

see on kõige hirmsam kannatus inimlikes asjades, paljut mõista ja mitte mingit võimu omada

Pealegi tabab karistus täitmatu ahnuse eest inimest alati siis - ja just seles seisneb karistuse piinarikas, hävituslik jõud - , kui tal on tunne, et ihaldatud eesmärgini on jäänud vaid samm.

Kusiło mnie, żeby zobaczyć, co jest dalej, po drugiej stronie. Zastanawiałem się, co się przeżywa, przechodząc granicę. Co się czuje? Co myśli? Musi to być moment wielkiej emocji, poruszenia, napięcia. Po tamtej stronie - jak jest? Na pewno - inaczej. Ale co znaczy to - inaczej? Jaki ma wygląd? Do czego jest podobne? A może jest niepodobne do niczego, co znam, a tym samym niepojęte, niewyobrażalne.

Mille poolest kultuurid üksteisest erinevad? Esmajoones tavade poolest. Ütle mulle, kuidas sa riietud, kuidas käitud, missugusi kombeid jälgid, missuguseid jumalaid kummardad, ja ma ütlen sulle, kes sa oled. Inimene mitte ainult ei loo kultuuri ega ela selles, inimene kannab kultuuri endas, inimene ongi kultuur.

Chúng ta thực sự không biết điều gì đã lôi cuốn con người vào với thế giới. Trí tò mò? Lòng khát khao trải nghiệm? Nhu cầu luôn muốn được ngạc nhiên? Con người ngừng ngạc nhiên là người trống rỗng, trái tim đã lụi tàn, Người cho rằng mọi thứ đã xảy ra và không gì có thể làm anh ta kinh ngạc được nữa, trong anh ta điều đẹp đẽ nhất đã chết - lòng say mê cuộc sống.

Sí, el mundo enseña humildad. Pues regresé de aquel viaje con el sentimiento de vergüenza por mi falta de conocimientos, por la insuficiencia de mis lecturas, por mi ignorancia. Aprendí que una cultura distinta no nos desvelaría sus secretos tan sólo porque así se lo ordenásemos y que antes de encontrarnos con ella era necesario pasar por una larga y sólida preparación".

Kas me kunagi mõtleme sellele, et maailma rikus on mäletamatutest aegadest olnud prjade loodud? Alates Mesopotaamia niisutussüsteemidest, Hiina müürist, Egiptuse püramiididest, Ateena akropolist kuni Kuuba suhkrurooistandusteni, Louisiana ja Arkansase puuvillaistandusteni, kuni Kolõma söekaevadnusteni ja saksa automagistraalideni välja. Aga sõjad? Sõdu on igivanast ajast peetud selleks, et orje saada

That is how the world’s energy is wasted. In complete irrationality! Complete futility! For the Great Wall—and it is gigantic, a wall-fortress, stretching for thousands of kilometers through uninhabited mountains and wilderness, an object of pride and, as I have mentioned, one of the wonders of the world—is also proof of a kind of human weakness, of an aberration, of a horrifying mistake; it is evidence of a historical inability of people in this part of the planet to communicate, to confer and jointly determine how best to deploy enormous reserves of human energy and intellect.

I understood that every distinct geographic universe has its own mystery and that one can decipher it only by learning the local language. Without it, this universe will remain impenetrable and unknowable, even if one were to spend entire years in it. I noticed, too, the relationship between naming and being, because I realized upon my return to the hotel that in town I had seen only that which I was able to name: for example, I remembered the acacia tree, but not the tree standing next to it, whose name I did not know. I understood, in short, that the more words I knew, the richer, fuller, and more variegated would be the world that opened before me, and which I could capture.

The Greek historian Herodotus, writing over two thousand years ago, produced one of the first descriptions of one culture getting worked up over the death rituals of another. In the story, the ruler of the Persian Empire summons a group of Greeks before him. Since they cremate their dead, the king wonders, "What would [it] take [for them] to eat their dead fathers?" The Greeks balk at this question, explaining that no price in the world would be high enough to turn them into cannibals. Next, the king summons a group of Callatians, known for eating the bodies of their dead. He asks, "What price would make them burn their dead fathers with fire?" The Callatians beg him not to mention "such horrors!

At the same time, Herodotus sets himself a most ambitious task: to record the history of the world. No one before him ever attempted this. He is the first to have hit upon the idea. Constantly gathering material for his work and interrogating witnesses, bards, and priests, he finds that each of them remembers something different—different and differently. Moreover, many centuries before us, he discovers an important yet treacherous and complicating trait of human memory: people remember what they want to remember, not what actually happened. Everyone colors events after his fashion, brews up his own mélange of reminiscences. Therefore getting through to the past itself, the past as it really was, is impossible. What are available to us are only its various versions, more or less credible, one or another of them suiting us better at any given time. The past does not exist. There are only infinite renderings of it.

Ma kartsin, et võin langeda provintsuluse lõksu. Tavaliselt seostub mõiste "provintslus" ruumiga. Provintslik on inimene, kelle mõtlemine on piiratud teatava marginaalse ruumiga, millele ta omistab liialdatud, universaalse tähtsuse. T. S. Eliot aga hoiatab teise, mitte ruumilise, vaid ajalise provintsluse eest. "Meie ajastul" kirjutab ta, "mil inimesed näivad rohkem kui kunagi pidavat teadmist taruseks ja informatsiooni teadmiseks, ning püüavad eluprobleeme lahendada insenerlikult, on takimas uus provintslus, mis võibolla vääriks küll uut nime. See ei ole ruumiline, vaid ajalooline provintslus: vaade, et ajalugu pole muud kui oma otstarbe ära teeninud ja siis kõrvale heidetud inimleiutiste kroonika, vaade, et maailm on ainult elavate päralt ja et surnutel ei ole siin vähimatki osa. Tolle provintsluse oht on, et me kõik, kõik maakera rahvad, võime olla ühtekokku provintslikud; ja ned, kes ei taha provintslikud olla, võivad hakaa ainult eremiitides." Seega on olemas ruumilised provintslased ja ajalised provintslased. Ruumilistele provintslastele näib iga gloobus, iga maailmakaart, kui sügavale ad on provintslusse on eksinud, kui pimestatud sellest; samuti näitab iga ajalugu, sealhulgas iga lehekülg Herodotusest ajalistele provintslastele, et alati on eksisteerinud olevik, et ajalugu on vaid oleviku katkematu kulg ja kõige kaugemgi möödani oli toona elatud iimestele nende kõige südamelähedasem tänapäev.

Al vivir, el hombre siente que es todas las personas y todas las cosas, así que no puede anhelar nada puesto tiene todo lo que es posibe tener, y al sentirse todo, no puede hacer daño a nadie ni a nada pues nadie hace daño a uno mismo

No abundan, sin embargo, naturalezas tan fervorosas. El hombre medio no muestra especial interés por el mundo. A él ha venido y en él se ve obligado a vivir, y no tiene más remedio que afrontar este hecho lo mejor que pueda y sepa; cuanto menos esfuerzo le exija, tanto mejor. Mientras que la absorbente empresa de conocer el mundo requiere un esfuerzo gigantesco y una dedicación absoluta. La mayoría de la gente tiende más bien a desarrollar habilidades contrarias: mirar para no ver y escuchar para no oír.

W człowieku, który uważa, że wszystko już było i nic nie może go zdziwić, umarło to, co najpiękniejsze - uroda życia.

All in all, ethnic and religious and color prejudice existed in the ancient world. Constructions of races—White Europe, Black Africa, for instance—did not, and therefore racist ideas did not. But crucially, the foundations of race and racist ideas were laid. And so were the foundations for egalitarianism, antiracism, and antislavery laid in Greco-Roman antiquity. “The deity gave liberty to all men, and nature created no one a slave,” wrote Alkidamas, Aristotle’s rival in Athens. When Herodotus, the foremost historian of ancient Greece, traveled up the Nile River, he found the Nubians “the most handsome of peoples.” Lactantius, an adviser to Constantine I, the first Christian Roman emperor, announced early in the fourth century: “God who creates and inspires men wished them all to be fair, that is, equal.” St. Augustine, an African church father in the fourth and fifth centuries, maintained that “whoever is born anywhere as a human being, that is, as a rational mortal creature, however strange he may appear to our senses in bodily form or colour or motion or utterance, or in any faculty, part or quality of his nature whatsoever, let no true believer have any doubt that such an individual is descended from the one man who was first created.” However, these antislavery and egalitarian champions did not accompany Aristotle and St. Paul into the modern era, into the new Harvard curriculum, or into the New England mind seeking to justify slavery and the racial hierarchy it produced.

Ptolemy's geography of Central Africa seems to say that the science was then (second century A.D.) in a state of decadence from what was known to the ancient Egyptian priests as revealed to Herodotus 600 years before his day (or say B.C. 440). They seem to have been well aware by the accounts of travellers or traders that a great number of springs contributed to the origin of the Nile, but none could be pointed at distinctly as the "Fountains," except those I long to discover, or rather rediscover. Ptolemy seems to have gathered up the threads of ancient explorations, and made many springs (six) flow into two Lakes situated East and West of each other—the space above them being unknown. If the Victoria Lake were large, then it and the Albert would probably be the Lakes which Ptolemy meant, and it would be pleasant to call them Ptolemy's sources, rediscovered by the toil and enterprise of our countrymen Speke, Grant, and Baker—but unfortunately Ptolemy has inserted the small Lake "Coloe," nearly where the Victoria Lake stands, and one cannot say where his two Lakes are. Of Lakes Victoria, Bangweolo, Moero, Kamolondo—Lake Lincoln and Lake Albert, which two did he mean? The science in his time was in a state of decadence. Were

Ad Algeri vedevo per la prima volta il Mediterraneo da vicino, potevo immergerci la mano, sentirne il contatto. Per trovarlo non occorreva informarsi: bastava continuare a seguire le via in discesa. Lo si intravedeva anche da lontano: era dappertutto, luccicava tra le case, spuntava in fondo alle vie che scendevano a rotta di collo verso il basso. In fondo si stendeva il quartiere del porto con la sua fila di semplici bar in legno, odorosi di pesce, vino e caffè. Ma le folate di vento portavano soprattutto il sentore acre del mare e il suo fresco alito ristoratore. Non avevo mai visto un luogo dove la natura fosse così benevola nei confronti dell'uomo. C'era tutto: il sole, il vento fresco, l'aria chiara, l'argento del mare. Avevo letto talmente tanto su di esso, che mi sembrava di conoscerlo. Nelle sue onde piatte c'era il bel tempo, la pace e l'invito a viaggiare, a conoscere . Veniva voglia di unirsi ai pescatori che salpavano da riva in quel momento.

The Polish journalist Ryszard Kapuscinski, acclaimed as the most brilliant and perceptive reporter of his time, writes in "Travels with Herodotus" that with every new town visited, with every new foreign word learnt, the traveller experiences small, almost imperceptible personal changes. Wherever you go becomes part of you and the person who returns home is never the same as before departing. Knowing new people is in many ways like travelling, and those who you meet along your road become part of your existence too.

En aquel entonces, la literatura parecía serlo todo. En ella se buscaba fuerzas para vivir, señales para enfilar uno u otro camino, una revelación.

Me hallaba en un mundo maravilloso que, sin embargo, no paraba de recordarme que yo era en él un cuerpo extraño.

Мне трудно было обойтись не столько без книги, сколько без личности ее автора. Чувство сложное, описать его трудно. Потому что это сближение с человеком, которого я не знаю лично, но который занимает меня и привлекает своим отношением к другим, своим образом жизни...

Одно отличает людей такого рода: это ненасытные люди-губки, которые се легко впитывают и так же легко с этим расстаются. В них ничто надолго не задерживается, а поскольку природа не терпит пустоты, им постоянно нужно что-то новое, они постоянно должны что-то впитывать, добавлять, множить, увеличивать.

¿no habrá sido el gran arte del pasado obra de lo que el hombre tiene de malo y negativo? Y al mismo tiempo, ¿no lo habrá creado su convicción de que lo negativo y lo débil que lleva dentro puede ser vencido sólo por lo bello, sólo por el esfuerzo y la voluntad de crearlo? ¿Y de que lo único que no cambia nunca es la forma de la belleza? ¿Y de la necesidad de ella que vive en nosotros?

For centuries, the ancient Zoroastrian method of disposal of the dead has been a source of curiosity among outsiders: from Herodotus and Strabo in ancient Anatolia, to European travelers through Iran and India in the medieval and colonial periods. An early fourteenth-century description of a dakhma—the hilltop enclosure in which a corpse is placed to be consumed by vultures—is found in the writings of a French Dominican friar named Jordanus.

For the past two days I’ve been on the river with an Oxford don who quotes Herodotus, a lovesick young man who quotes Tennyson, a bulldog, and a cat,” I said. “I played it by ear.

In the fifth century, Herodotus traveled about the eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea;

Anybody can make history. Only a great man can write it. Oscar Wilde, ‘The Critic as Artist’, Intentions (1891)

Herodotus of Halicarnassus here displays his inquiry, so that human achievements may not become forgotten in time, and great and marvellous deeds - some displayed by Greeks, some by barbarians - may not be without their glory; and especially to show why the two peoples fought each other. There it is. The birth of history in a paragraph.

The appeal of history to us all is in the last analysis poetic.

So dispatched, Aristagoras traveled to Athens—the most powerful city in Greece. Here he changed tactics: instead of speaking with the ruler, he addressed the crowd (in accordance with another of Herodotus’s rules, that it seems to be easier to fool a crowd than a single person) and appealed directly to the Athenians to help the Ionians.

Herodotus traveled widely and talked to an astonishing range of both Greeks and Persians;