Wind Indeed Increases Fire, But Custom Love.

No Man Is Free Who Cannot Control Himself.

Let Not Sleep Fall Upon Thy Eyes Till Thou Has Thrice Reviewed The Transactions Of The Past Day. Where Have I Turned Aside From Rectitude? What Have I Been Doing? What Have I Left Undone, Which I Ought To Have Done?

Souls Never Die, But Always On Quitting One Abode Pass To Another. All Things Change, Nothing Perishes. The Soul Passes Hither And Thither, Occupying Now This Body, Now That... As A Wax Is Stamped With Certain Figures, Then Melted, Then Stamped Anew With Others, Yet It Is Always The Same Wax. So, The Soul Being Always The Same, Yet Wears At Different Times Different Forms.

The Animals Share With Us The Privilege Of Having A Soul Alas, What Wickedness To Swallow Flesh Into Our Own Flesh, To Fatten Our Greedy Bodies By Cramming In Other Bodies, To Have One Living Creature Fed By The Death Of Another! In The Midst Of Such Wealth As Earth, The Best Of Mothers, Provides, Yet Nothing Satisfies You, But To Behave Like The Cyclopes, Inflicting Sorry Wounds With Cruel Teeth! You Cannot Appease The Hungry Cravings Of Your Wicked, Gluttonous Stomachs Except By Destroying Some Other Life.

As Soon As You Awake, In Order Lay The Actions To Be Done The Coming Day.