Were a man to order his life by the rules of true reason, a frugal substance joined to a contented mind is for him great riches.
A man leaves his great house because he's bored With life at home, and suddenly returns, Finding himself no happier abroad. He rushes off to his villa driving like mad, You'ld think he's going to a house on fire, And yawns before he's put his foot inside, Or falls asleep and seeks oblivion, Or even rushes back to town again. So each man flies from himself (vain hope, because It clings to him the more closely against his will) And hates himself because he is sick in mind And does not know the cause of his disease.
What is food to one man is bitter poison to others
The supply of matter in the universe was never more tightly packed than it is now, or more widely spread out. For nothing is ever added to it or subtracted from it. It follows that the movement of atoms today is no different from what it was in bygone ages and always will be. So the things that have regularly come into being will continue to come into being in the same manner; they will be and grow and flourish so far as each is allowed by the laws of nature.
The vivid force of his mind prevailed, and he fared forth far beyond the flaming ramparts of the heavens and traversed the boundless universe in thought and mind.
Visible objects therefore do not perish utterly, since nature repairs one thing from another and allows nothing to be born without the aid of another's death.
Furthermore, as the body suffers the horrors of disease and the pangs of pain, so we see the mind stabbed with anguish, grief and fear. What more natural than that it should likewise have a share in death?
So it is more useful to watch a man in times of peril, and in adversity to discern what kind of man he is; for then at last words of truth are drawn from the depths of his heart, and the mask is torn off, reality remains.
From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.
It is great wealth to a soul to live frugally with a contented mind.
Pleasant it is, when over a great sea the winds trouble the waters, to gaze from shore upon another's great tribulation; not because any man's troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive you are free of them yourself is pleasant.
Thus the sum of things is ever being reviewed, and mortals dependent one upon another. Some nations increase, others diminish, and in a short space the generations of living creatures are changed and like runners pass on the torch of life.
The drops of rain make a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling.
Though the dungeon, the scourge, and the executioner be absent, the guilty mind can apply the goad and scorch with blows.
Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.
Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another's struggles.
Life is one long struggle in the dark.
So potent was religion in persuading to evil deeds.
In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
The sum of all sums is eternity.
