A garland of quotations LXIV
Culled from the finest shushers in literary history in, and re-woven every Wednesday
(If you live in the Tristate Area so-called, come see me May 4, 12–5, at this Creepy Pop-Up Market in the Conti Building, 415 Howe Ave, Shelton, Conn. I’ll do (free) sketches, sign books, a little light juggling. Details, such as they are, here.)
Children, hush! for father’s resting; he is sitting, tired and sore, with his feet upon the table and his hat upon the floor. He is wearied and exhausted by the labors of the day; he has talked about the tariff since the dawn was cold and gray.
•Walt Mason, Uncle Walt: The Poet Philosopher (1910).
Lollai, lollai, litil child, whi wepistou so sore?
Nedis mostou wepe, hit was iȝarkid þe ȝore
Euer to lib in sorow and sich and mourne euere,
As þin eldren did er þis, whil hi aliues were.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, child, lolai, lullow,
In to vncuþ world icommen so ertow.
[Lullay, lullay, little child, why do you weep so bitterly? You must needs weep, it was arranged for you long ago to live in sorrow always, and sigh and mourn as a result, as your forbears did before this while they were alive. Lullay, lullay, little child, child lullay lullow, thus have you come into an unfamiliar world.]
•Kildare Poems (C14).
With Lullay, lullay, like a childe,
Thou slepist to long, thou art begilde.
•John Skelton, Dyvers Balettys and Dyties Solacyous (ca. 1495).
O, what trembling when we were small
And fear was brought by MORMO—
Huge of ear up on her head,
With four feet walking, always
Changing from one face to other.
But mounted in the bed of
Your husband, dearest Baucis,
You forget things heard from mother,
While still the littler child.
•Erinna, The Distaff (C4 BC?).
Behind them rolled up the ascent of heaven the wheels of quiet Night: holy Night, mother of the Gods, mother of sleep, tender nurse of all little birds and beasts that dwell in the field and all tired hearts and weary: mother besides of strange children, affrights, and rapes, and midnight murders bold.
•E.R. Eddison, The Worm Ouroboros (1922).
Dogs howl all over the City. Chickens stop what they are doing and fall asleep. Babies cry. Pigs briefly acquire the power of speech, saying, “Hush, hush.”
•Thomas Pynchon, Mason & Dixon (1997).
It was a custom among the Athenians that anyone who wanted to be thought of as a philosopher should be flogged, vigorously. And if he bore up patiently, then he would be esteemed a philosopher. ¶Now one man was being thoroughly whipped. Then before judgment had been pronounced whether he should be held a philosopher (indeed, immediately following the whipping), he started shouting. “I am more than worthy,” he exclaimed, “to be called Philosopher!” And another answered him: “Brother, you might have been—if you could have kept quiet.”
•Odo of Cheriton, Fabulae (ca. 1225).
The reed and the olive tree were arguing over their steadfastness, strength and ease. The olive taunted the reed for his powerlessness and pliancy in the face of all the winds. The reed kept quiet and didn’t say a word. Then, not long after this, he wind blew violently. The reed, shaken and bent, escaped easily from it, but the olive tree, resisting the wind, was snapped by its force.
•Æsop.
One can be silent and sit still only when one has a bow and arrow.
•Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathurstra (1883).
Unmon asked a monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk said, “From Saizen.” Unmon said, “What words does Saizen say lately?” The monk stretched out his arms. Unmon slapped him. The monk said, “I have something to say about it.” Unmon then stretched out his own arms. The monk remained silent. Then Unmon hit him.
•Xuedou Zhongxian & Yuanwu Keqin, The Blue Cliff Record (1125).
A woman of ninety said to M. de Fontenelle, then ninety-five: “Death has forgotten us.” “Hush!” replied M. de Fontenelle, putting his finger to his lips.
•Nicholas Chamfort, Maxims, Thoughts, Characters and Anecdotes (1796).
References: Kildare: trans. Angela M. Lucas; Erinna: trans. Daniel Haberman in The Norton Book of Classical Literature (Norton, 1993); Odo, Æsop, Nietzsche, XZ/YK, & Chamfort: all op. cit. o.c.; some of this material is copyrighted, and I plead only fair use.