Time Is Like A River Made Up

Men Exist For Each Other. Then Either Improve Them, Or Put Up With Them.

Continuously Thou Wilt Look At Human Things As Smoke And Nothing At All; Especially If Thou Reflectest At The Same Time, That What Has Once Changed Will Never Exist Again In The Infinite Duration Of Time. But Thou, In What A Brief Space Of Time Is Thy Existence? And Why Art Thou Not Content To Pass Through This Short Time In An Orderly Way?

Stop Whatever You're Doing For A Moment And Ask Yourself: Am I Afraid Of Death Because I Won't Be Able To Do This Anymore?

Above, Below, All Around Are The Movements Of The Elements. But The Motion Of Virtue Is In None Of These: It Is Something More Divine, And Advancing By A Way Hardly Observed It Goes Happily On Its Road.

Enough Of This Wretched Life And Murmuring And Apish Tricks. Why Art Thou Disturbed? What Is There New In This? What Unsettles Thee? Is It The Form Of The Thing? Look At It. Or Is It The Matter? Look At It. But Besides These There Is Nothing. Towards The Gods, Then, Now Become At Last More Simple And Better. It Is The Same Whether We Examine These Things For A Hundred Years Or Three.