The Art Of Living Is More Like

The Universal Nature Has No External Space; But The Wondrous Part Of Her Art Is That Though She Has Circumscribed Herself, Everything Which Is Within Her Which Appears To Decay And To Grow Old And To Be Useless She Changes Into Herself, And Again Makes Other New Things From These Very Same, So That She Requires Neither Substance From Without Nor Wants A Place Into Which She May Cast That Which Decays. She Is Content Then With Her Own Space, And Her Own Matter, And Her Own Art.

Cinna Wishes To Seem Poor, And Is Poor

Time Is A Sort Of River Of Passing Events, And Strong Is Its Current; No Sooner Is A Thing Brought To Sight Than It Is Swept By And Another Takes Its Place, And This Too Will Be Swept Away.

How Soon Will Time Cover All Things.

Let It Judge That Nothing Is Either Bad Or Good Which Can Happen Equally To The Bad Man And The Good. For That Which Happens Equally To Him Who Lives Contrary To Nature And To Him Who Lives According To Nature, Is Neither According To Nature Nor Contrary To Nature.