Monday, May 4, 2009

Pride


Pride is, depending upon context, either a high sense of the worth of one's self and one's own or a pleasure taken in the contemplation of these things. One definition of pride in the first sense comes from Augustine: "the love of one's own excellence." (...)

Pride is sometimes viewed as excessive or as a vice, sometimes as proper or as a virtue. While some philosophies such as Aristotle's consider pride a profound virtue, most world religions consider it a sin. The Roman Catholic Church lists pride as the most deadly of the seven deadly sins.
According to the Concise Oxford Dictionary, proud comes from late Old English prud, probably from Old French prude "brave, valiant" (11th century), from late Latin term prode "advantageous, profitable", which comes from prodesse "to be useful". The sense of "having a high opinion of oneself", not in French, may reflect the Anglo-Saxons' opinion of the Norman knights who called themselves "proud", like the French knights preux.
When viewed as a virtue, pride in one's appearance and abilities is known as virtuous pride, greatness of soul or magnanimity, but when viewed as a vice it is often termed vanity or vainglory. (...)


Nietzsche saw pride as an example of a previous, master set of morals that had been replaced with slave moralities. In this, pride was good, because it acknowledges the good and the noble, rejecting the weak and insipid. Without pride, Nietzsche argued, we will remain subservient. (...)


in Wikipedia

TO YOU:
«Há pouco, recebi uma SMS. “Estou orgulhosa de ti.” Não respondi. (...) É verdade. Está “orgulhosa de mim”. Há alguém que perde tempo para me dizer isto.»
I'll always be proud of you. I am.




Rebecca Goldstein, INCOMPLETUDE, Gradiva, Tradução de David Gaspar







Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it


Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,

Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene

Thou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!



Emily Dickinson