Si monumentum requiris circumspice [If you would see the man’s monument, look around].

The Latin phrase is famously associated with Sir Christopher Wren through his burial in St Paul’s Cathedral, London. Wren (1632–1723), the leading architect of post–Great Fire London, designed St Paul’s and many other churches rebuilt after 1666. On his tomb in the cathedral’s crypt, an epitaph composed by his son, Christopher Wren the Younger, directs visitors not to a grand monument but to the building itself: the cathedral stands as the architect’s true memorial. The line has since become a widely cited example of architectural commemoration and understated epitaphic wit.

The sentence turns commemoration outward: rather than praising Wren in elaborate words or sculpture, it claims his works are the most fitting testimony to his life. “Look around” makes the surrounding space—St Paul’s itself—the argument for his greatness, implying that enduring public achievement outlasts personal memorials. The phrasing also carries a moral of humility: the man does not need a separate monument because his labor already shapes the world. As a result, the quote is often invoked to suggest that a person’s legacy is best measured in tangible contributions rather than in posthumous accolades.

Lector, si monumentum requiris, circumspice.

Lector, si monumentum requiris, circumspice.
Si monumentum requiris, circumspice.
If you seek his monument, look around you.