There Is No Man So Fortunate That

No One Loses Any Other Life Than The One He Now Lives, Nor Does One Live Any Other Life Than That Which He Will Lose.

You Are A Little Soul Bearing About A Corpse, As Epictetus Used To Say.

Where Life Is Possible At All, A Right Life Is Possible; Life In A Palace Is Possible; Therefore Even In A Palace A Right Life Is Possible.

My Being Consists Of Matter And Form, That Is, Of Soul And Body; Annihilation Will Reach Neither Of Them, For They Were Never Produced Out Of Nothing. The Consequence Is, That Every Part Of Me Will Serve To Make Something In The World; And This Again Will Change Into Another Part Through An Infinite Succession Of Change. This Constant Method Of Alteration Gave Me My Being, And My Father Before Me, And So On To Eternity Backward: For I Think I May Speak Thus, Even Though The World Be Confined Within Certain Determinate Periods.

Deem Not Life A Thing Of Consequence. For Look At The Yawning Void Of The Future, And At That Other Limitless Space, The Past.