I Search After Truth, By Which Man

I Can At Once Become Happy Anywhere, For He Is Happy Who Has Found Himself A Happy Lot. In A Word, Happiness Lies All In The Functions Of Reason, In Warrantable Desires And Virtuous Practice.

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.

It Is A Shame For The Soul To Be First To Give Way In This Life, When Thy Body Does Not Give Way.

Does What's Happened Keep You From Acting With Justice, Generosity, Self-control, Sanity, Prudence, Honesty, Humility, Straightforward Ness, And All Other Qualities That Allow A Person's Nature To Fulfill Itself? So Remember This Principle When Something Threatens To Cause You Pain: The Thing Itself Was No Misfortune At All; To Endure It And Prevail Is Great Good Fortune.

The Universal Nature Out Of The Universal Substance, As If It Were Wax, Now Molds A Horse, And When It Has Broken This Up, It Uses The Material For A Tree, Then For A Man, Then For Something Else.