Continued work and application form my soul's nourishment. So soon as I commenced to rest and relax I should cease to live. I know my own powers. I a… - Petrarch

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Continued work and application form my soul's nourishment. So soon as I commenced to rest and relax I should cease to live. I know my own powers. I am not fitted for other kinds of work, but my reading and writing, which you would have me discontinue, are easy tasks, nay, they are a delightful rest, and relieve the burden of heavier anxieties. There is no lighter burden, nor more agreeable, than a pen. Other pleasures fail us or wound us while they charm, but the pen we take up rejoicing and lay down with satisfaction, for it has the power to advantage not only its lord and master, but many others as well, even though they be far away — sometimes, indeed, though they be not born for thousands of years to come. I believe I speak but the strict truth when I claim that as there is none among earthly delights more noble than literature, so there is none so lasting, none gentler, or more faithful; there is none which accompanies its possessor through the vicissitudes of life at so small a cost of effort or anxiety.

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About Petrarch

Francesco Petrarca (or Petrarch) (July 20, 1304 – July 19, 1374) was an Italian scholar, poet, and early humanist. Petrarch and Dante are considered the fathers of the Renaissance.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Francesco Petrarca Peetrarque Petrarque Francesco Peetrarque Francesco Petrarch Francis Petrarch Petrarca
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Additional quotes by Petrarch

[I libri] Ora questi, ora quelli io interrogo, ed essi mi rispondono, e per me cantano e parlano; e chi mi svela i segreti della natura, chi mi dà ottimi consigli per la vita e per la morte, chi narra le sue e le altrui chiare imprese, richiamandomi alla mente le antiche età. E v'è chi con festose parole allontana da me la tristezza e scherzando riconduce il riso sulle mie labbra; altri m'insegnano a sopportar tutto, a non desiderar nulla, a conoscer me stesso, maestri di pace, di guerra, d'agricoltura, d'eloquenza, di navigazione; essi mi sollevano quando sono abbattuto dalla sventura, mi frenano quando insuperbisco nella felicità, e mi ricordano che tutto ha un fine, che i giorni corron veloci e che la vita fugge. E di tanti doni, piccolo è il premio che mi chiedono: di aver libero accesso alla mia casa e di viver con me, dacché la nemica fortuna ha lasciato loro nel mondo rari rifugi e pochi e pavidi amici

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