The Life of Timon of Athens Dissatisfaction and Misanthropy Quotes

We've just had our first look at two different outlooks on life, one espoused by Apemantus and one by Timon. A lord highlights the differences of the two men by contrasting them: Apemantus hates all people, while Timon is generous with all people. Let's see if that's true by the end of the play.

Early on in the play, Apemantus's cynical remarks about people seem out of place in the cheerful banquet setting. Before long, though, Timon, too, realizes that Apemantus might understand people better than anyone else in the room.

That pretty much sums it up, doesn't it? Timon has some choice words for his guests, but he doesn't stop there. This is the first time we see him start to turn his anger at them into an anger at all of mankind. Notice how he immediately shifts focus from his own house to all of Athens.

Timon stands outside the city gates and yells at the people inside the city walls. We get the sense that this passionate little speech is more for his own benefit, though. Who's listening, anyway? Timon might be railing at all mankind, but we think he's finally understanding that he has no real friends, and he's partly yelling at himself for not realizing it sooner.

When Alcibiades comes right out and asks why Timon hates him, this is Timon's response. As snarky comebacks go, this one takes the cake. It also shows us a different Timon from the rich, benevolent guy we encountered early on in the play. Also, take a look at how Timon says he is Misanthropos: he's basically he's the biggest, baddest misanthrope out there. Nobody hates mankind more than he does. You'd think the worst possible thing ever happened to him. Did it? (If you think so, allow us to direct you on over to King Lear for another perspective.)

Poor Timon. He's had it harder than Apemantus. Boohoo. But, okay, he's also willing to admit that not everyone should hate mankind. He might despise men because of what his friends did to him, but he doesn't get why Apemantus has to be so cranky. Let's think about that for a moment. What's worse: having your friends use you for your money, or never having any kind of love, ever? Can we even compare these two things? We're not sure. Timon sure thinks he can, though, and he thinks he's had it way worse.

Well, Timon has gone from being kinda mad at a small group of people to hating all mankind. He hates people so much that he laughs at their misfortunes. The only thing keeping him going now is his rabid hatred of everyone, everywhere. If he can't be happy, no one can.

Here, Timon gives advice to Flavius about having money. If only he would have practiced that a bit earlier. Timon is so cold and heartless at this point in the play that he doesn't care about anyone who is in need. Is that really any better than taking too much from someone?

Instead of taking the Senators up on their offer, Timon basically spits in their faces. Death and destruction are all that men bring to each other, he claims. Well, okay, but we'd like to point out he's really just perpetuating all of that by waiting for death in the woods and paying Alcibiades and the courtesans to take out Athens.

As Alcibiades reads Timon's epitaph for himself, we can't help but remember the guy who was the life of the party, who just wanted more friends. That guy's dying wish was just to be alone—it's like he just goes from one extreme to another. It's funny that Timon goes from having tons of superficial friends to having no friends at all; there's never been a time when he's had even one real, true friend. We're not even sure if he'd recognize one if he saw one (ahem, Flavius). Anyway, that's some epitaph. Timon's made sure that everybody will forever remember how much he hated mankind; that's one way to go out, we guess, but we wonder how wise it is to become such a ball of hatred that that's the only thing that defines you.