People Exist For One Another.

Nothing Is Evil Which Is According To Nature.

Time Is A Kind Of River, An Irresistible Flood Sweeping Up Men And Events And Carrying Them Headlong, One After The Other, To The Great Sea Of Being.

Nothing Can Come Out Of Nothing, Any More Than A Thing Can Go Back To Nothing.

Your Mind Will Be Like Its Habitual Thoughts; For The Soul Becomes Dyed With The Color Of Its Thoughts. Soak It Then In Such Trains Of Thoughts As, For Example: Where Life Is Possible At All, A Right Life Is Possible.

Death Is A Release From The Impressions Of The Senses, And From Desires That Make Us Their Puppets, And From The Vagaries Of The Mind, And From The Hard Service Of The Flesh.