seize the day; enjoy the present, as opposed to placing all hope in the future.
The Latin sentence carpe diem is usually translated “seize the day,” which is a concise but inadequate translation. The sentence comes from the 1st-century b.c. Roman poet Horace in the first book of his Odes, published in 23 b.c. Carpe is the 2nd person singular present imperative of the verb carpere “to pluck, gather, pull (fruit, flowers, etc.); diem “day,” is the accusative singular of diēs, and the direct object of carpe. A more accurate but tedious translation is “pluck the fruit of the day (while it is still ripe),” which completely demolishes Horace’s conciseness. Carpere comes from the very complicated Proto-Indo-European root (s)kerp-, (s)karp– (and other variants) “to cut, pluck,” the source also of Greek karpós “(cut or plucked) fruit.” The Germanic noun harbistaz, from the Proto-Indo-European superlative adjective karp-ist-os “best suited for plucking or reaping,” yields hærfest “autumn” in Old English (English harvest) and Herbst “autumn” in German. Diēs comes from the very, very widespread Proto-Indo-European root dyeu-, dyu-, diw– “to shine,” and by extension “sky, heaven, god,” source of Latin Juppiter “Jupiter,” actually an old vocative formula meaning “Father Jove,” and the exact equivalent to Greek Zeû páter “Father Zeus,” and Sanskrit dyā́uṣpitā́ “Father Heaven.” Carpe diem entered English in the first half of the 19th century.
I asked the now-66-year-old Valerie Carpenter what she would say to the 18-year-old Valerie Glines. “Carpe diem,” she said. “Seize the day. Don’t mess around. Follow your heart.”
More than anything, the pandemic has shown how quickly things can change if they must. Carpe diem.
Sayonara comes from Japanese sayōnara, a shortening of sayōnaraba, which means literally “if it be so (that the time for parting has come).” Sayonara consists of sayō “thus” and naraba “if it be.” Sayonara entered English in the second half of the 19th century.
First of all, Joey is terrible at Nintendo. As little brothers go, he’s probably the worst. If he gets to play Zelda, you can say sayonara to your rupees.
Turchin published one final monograph … then broke the news to his UConn colleagues that he would be saying a permanent sayonara to the field, although he would continue to draw a salary as a tenured professor in their department.
a box or dish for candies.
A bonbonnière is a person or store that sells candies, or a box or tray for serving candies. Bonbonnière, a French noun, has been in English for more than 200 years, but it is still completely unnaturalized. Bonbonnière is a derivative of the noun bon-bon, literally “good-good,” French baby talk for “candy” (especially chocolate candy). Bonbonnière entered English in the first half of the 19th century.
He drew from his pocket a marvellous bonbonnière, formed out of a single emerald, and closed by a golden lid, which unscrewed and gave passage to a small ball of a greenish colour, and about the size of a pea.
At Sotheby’s the Rivers collection includes a gold and enamel cigarette case with pink rosettes, a carved nephrite gold and enamel bonbonnière, whose lid has Cupid riding an eagle on a cloud, and several elephants in bowenite, obsidian and aventurine.
of, relating to, or constituting visual imagery vividly experienced and readily reproducible with great accuracy and in great detail.
Eidetic “pertaining to visual images vividly experienced and readily reproducible” is a technical term used in psychology. It comes via German eidetisch from the equally technical Greek adjective eidētikós, whose senses include “constituting an image; (of a number) capable of being represented by a mathematical figure; formal (cause).” Eidētikós is a derivative of eídēsis, one of the several Greek nouns meaning “knowledge.” Eidetic entered English in the first half of the 20th century.
His eidetic memory went to work, conjuring an image of a large-scale map he had once studied. Closing his eyes he laid off the exact distance, latitude and longitude, individual islands.
Dr. Matsuzawa said the ability reminded him of the phenomenon called eidetic imagery, in which a person memorizes details of a complex scene at a glance.
friendship; peaceful harmony.
Amity “friendship; peaceful harmony; peaceful harmony between states” comes via Middle English amite, amitie, amiste from Old French amistié, amisté, amistet “friendship, affection,” from the unrecorded Vulgar Latin noun amīcitāt-, the inflectional stem of amīcitās, equivalent to Latin amīcitia “friendship.” (The same Vulgar Latin noun becomes amistad in Spanish, which may be familiar to Americans from the Steven Spielberg movie Amistad, 1997.) Amīcitia is a derivative of the noun amīcus “friend, lover,” which in its turn is a derivative of the verb amāre “to love, be in love, fall in love with,” which has no further etymology. Amity entered English in the first half of the 15th century.
Felix held out his hand as a token of amity, which the other took.
She did not care for. Mrs. Markey … but John and Joe Markey were congenial and went in together on the commuting train every morning, so the two women kept up an elaborate pretence of warm amity.
The English adjective and noun fainéant “indolent, idle; an idler, a do-nothing” is plainly French. The earlier French spelling fait-nient, literally meaning “he does nothing,” is a folk etymology of Old French faignant “idler, sluggard,” the present participle of faindre, feindre “to shirk,” source of English faint and feign. Fainéant entered English in the first half of the 17th century.
He became a very fainéant Pope, occupying his leisure hours, not discreditably, with literature and learned men, but making of those hours a far larger portion of his life than was consistent with the duty of a supreme head of the Church.
The evidence which he presents in such detail continues to produce, if anything, precisely that impression of the faineant President which he has been anxious to dispel.
of boxing; pugilistic.
Fistic “pertaining to the fists or boxing” is a transparent compound of the English noun fist and the adjective suffix –ic. Fist comes from Old English fȳst and is closely related to Dutch vuist and German Faust. The thoroughly naturalized suffix –ic derives from Latin –icus and Greek –ikos and was originally applied to Latin or Greek nouns (such as metallic, music, poetic, public). Fistic is a facetious synonym of pugilistic, which is a derivative of Latin pugil “fist fighter, boxer.” Pugil is akin to pugna “fist” and its derived verb pugnāre “to fight,” ultimate source of English pugnacious. All of the Latin words are related to the Greek adverb pýx “with the fist,” and the noun pygmḗ “fist, fistfight, boxing,” also a measure of length from the elbow to the knuckles (of the fist). Fistic entered English in the early 19th century.
Yes, boxing and the other fistic and grappling arts are still with us, driven by the popularity of mixed martial arts and Ultimate Mixed Fighting bouts.
To continue in fistic phraseology, he had a genius for coming up to the scratch, wherever and whatever it was, and proving himself an ugly customer. … He was certain to knock the wind out of common sense …