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Quote


  • Leucon, no one’s allowed to know his fate,
    Not you, not me: don’t ask, don’t hunt for answers
    In tea leaves or palms. Be patient with whatever comes.
    This could be our last winter, it could be many
    More, pounding the Tuscan Sea on these rocks:
    Do what you must, be wise, cut your vines
    And forget about hope. Time goes running, even
    As we talk. Take the present, the future’s no one’s affair.

    -- Horace, Ode I.11, translated by Burton Raffel

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