In the works of Lucretius, we find two reasons why we shouldn't worry about death. If you have had a successful life, Lucretius tell us, there's no reason to mind its end. And, if you haven't had a good time, "Why do you seek to add more years, which would also pass but ill?"

It is not necessarily at home that we best encounter our true selves. The furniture insists that we cannot change because it does not; the domestic setting keeps us tethered to the person we are in ordinary life, who may not be who we essentially are.

One of our major flaws, and causes of unhappiness, is that we find it hard to take note of appreciate and be grateful for what is always around us. We suffer because we lose sight of the value of what is before us and yearn, often unfairly, for the imagined attraction elsewhere.

We often lose our tempers not with those who are actually to blame; just with those who love us enough to forgive us our foul moods.

We should keep a careful diary of our moments of envy: they are our covert guides to what we should try to do next.

Insomnia is a glamorous term for thoughts you forgot to have in the day.

As we write, so we build: to keep a record of what matters to us.