Drunkenness is the mother of joy, as is vigor. What does this mean? Why does drunkenness not cause melancholy? First, because melancholy derives from truth, not falsehood, and drunkenness causes us to forget the truth, and only from that forgetfulness can joy be born. Second, men in the state of nature, that is, in a state of vigor much greater than that of the present, were meant to be happy and abandon themselves to illusions and see and feel them as if they were living and bodily presences (98).

Leopardi, Giacomo, and Michael Caesar. Zibaldone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Self-love is very subtle and insinuates itself everywhere, and is found in the innermost places of our hearts, those which seem impervious to this passion (97).

Leopardi, Giacomo, and Michael Caesar. Zibaldone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

There are three ways of looking at things. the first and most blissful is the way of those for whom things also have more spirit than body, by which I mean people of genius and sensibility, for whom there is nothing that does not speak to the imagination or the heart, and who find everywhere material that inspires them to rise above themselves and feel and live, and a continuous relation of things with the infinite and with man, and an indefinable and vague life—those, in other words, who see everything from the point of view of infinity  and in relation to the impulses of their souls (93).

Leopardi, Giacomo, and Michael Caesar. Zibaldone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

All is nothingness in the world, including my despair, which any man who is wise but also calmer, and I myself certainly at a quieter time, will see as vain, irrational, and imaginary. Wretched me! Even this pain of mine is in vain, nothing. After a certain time it will pass and turn to nothing, and leave me in a universal emptiness, a terrible apathy that will not even let me lament (75).

Leopardi, Giacomo, and Michael Caesar. Zibaldone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

The more you think about time, the more you despair of having enough; the more you waste, the more you seem to have left (49).

Leopardi, Giacomo, and Michael Caesar. Zibaldone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.