Epigrams by Leonardo Da Vinci

Every now and then go away, have a little relaxation, for when you come back to your work your judgement will be surer. Go some distance away because then the work appears smaller and more of it can be taken in at a glance and a lack of harmony and proportion is more readily seen.

Experience does not err. Only your judgements err by expecting from her what is not in her power.

He who loves practice without theory is like the sailor who boards the ship without a rudder and compass and never knows where he may cast.

It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.

Marriage is like putting your hand into a bag of snakes in the hope of pulling out an eel.

Anyone who conducts an argument by appealing to authority is not using his intelligence; he is just using his memory.

For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.

You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand.

He who wishes to be rich in a day will be hanged in a year.

One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself.

Shun those studies in which the work that results dies with the worker.

As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death.

Mexican Fisherman Meets Harvard MBA

Mexican Fisherman Meets Harvard MBA What Really Matters in Life? A vacationing American businessman standing on the pier of a quaint coastal fishing village in southern Mexico watched as a small boat with just one young Mexican fisherman pulled into the dock. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. Enjoying the warmth of the early afternoon sun, the American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish. “How long did it take you to catch them?” the American casually asked. “Oh, a few hours,” the Mexican fisherman replied. “Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” the American businessman then asked. The Mexican warmly replied, “With this I have more than enough to support my family’s needs.” The businessman then became serious, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?” Responding with a smile, the Mexican fisherman answered, “I sleep late, play with my children, watch ballgames, and take siesta with my wife. Sometimes in the evenings I take a stroll into the village to see my friends, play the guitar, sing a few songs…” The American businessman impatiently interrupted, “Look, I have an MBA from Harvard, and I can help you to be more profitable. You can start by fishing several hours longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra money, you can buy a bigger boat. With the additional income that larger boat will bring, before long you can buy a second boat, then a third one, and so on, until you have an entire fleet of fishing boats.” Proud of his own sharp thinking, he excitedly elaborated a grand scheme which could bring even bigger profits, “Then, instead of selling your catch to a middleman you’ll be able to sell your fish directly to the processor, or even open your own cannery. Eventually, you could control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this tiny coastal village and move to Mexico City, or possibly even Los Angeles or New York City, where you could even further expand your enterprise.” Having never thought of such things, the Mexican fisherman asked, “But how long will all this take?” After a rapid mental calculation, the Harvard MBA pronounced, “Probably about 15-20 years, maybe less if you work really hard.” “And then what, señor?” asked the fisherman. “Why, that’s the best part!” answered the businessman with a laugh. “When the time is right, you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.” “Millions? Really? What would I do with it all?” asked the young fisherman in disbelief. The businessman boasted, “Then you could happily retire with all the money you’ve made. You could move to a quaint coastal fishing village where you could sleep late, play with your grandchildren, watch ballgames, and take siesta with your wife. You could stroll to the village in the evenings where you could play the guitar and sing with your friends all you want.” “Señor, isn’t that what I am doing now?”