The default mood of the busy man is misery. He lives a wretched existence. He walks with strangers in a world somewhere between love and hate.
We, too, are lit and put out. We suffer somewhat in the intervening period, but at either end of it there is a deep tranquillity. For, unless I’m mistaken, we are wrong, my dear Lucilius, in holding that death follows after, when in fact it precedes as well as succeeds. Death is all that was before us. What does it matter, after all, whether you cease to be or never begin, when the result of either is that you do not exist?
A plant which is often moved can never go strong.
I know of no one with whom I should be willing to have you shared.
See to it that nothing keeps you down.
For by no wisdom can natural weakness of the body be removed. That which is implanted and inborn can be toned down by training, but not overcome.
It is equally faulty to trust everyone and to trust no one.
Some men shrink into dark corners, to such a degree that they see darkly by day.
You are teaching cruelty to a person who cannot learn to be cruel.
Discuss the problem with Nature; she will tell you that she has created both day and night.
It is too easy to side with the majority.
What then do you think the effect will be on character, when the world at large assaults it? You must either imitate or loathe the world.
Your good qualities should face inwards.
Virtue alone affords everlasting and peace-giving joy; even if some obstacle arise, it is but like an intervening cloud, which floats beneath the sun but never prevails against it. When will it be your lot to attain this joy? Thus far, you have indeed not been sluggish, but you must quicken your pace. Much toil remains; to confront it, you must yourself lavish all your waking hours, and all your efforts, if you wish the result to be accomplished.
Life on such heights ends in a fall.
The good that could be given, can be removed.
No man ought to glory except in that which is his own.
Everywhere means nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends. And the same thing must hold true of men who seek intimate acquaintance with no single author, but visit them all in a hasty and hurried manner.
Hope and fear, dissimilar as they are, keep step together; fear follows hope.
We should not believe the lack of silver and gold to be proof of the simple life.
We men torment ourselves over that which is to come as well as over that which is past... The present alone can make no man wretched.