Soon,
very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name or
not even a name; but name is sound and echo. And the things which are
much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling, and like
little dogs biting one another, and little children quarrelling,
laughing, and then straightway weeping. But fidelity and modesty and
justice and truth are fled Up to Olympus from the wide-spread earth.
What then is there which still detains thee here? If the objects of
sense are easily changed and never stand still, and the organs of
perception are dull and easily receive false impressions; and the
poor soul itself is an exhalation from blood. But to have good repute
amidst such a world as this is an empty thing. Why then dost thou not
wait in tranquility for thy end, whether it is extinction or removal
to another state? And until that time comes, what is sufficient? Why,
what else than to venerate the gods and bless them, and to do good to
men, and to practise tolerance and self-restraint; but as to
everything which is beyond the limits of the poor flesh and breath,
to remember that this is neither thine nor in thy power.
(podcast episode) (original Greek)
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