The body is not a permanent dwelling, but a sort of inn which is to be left behind when one perceives that one is a burden to the host.

There is nothing after death, and death itself is nothing.

The mind makes the nobleman, and uplifts the lowly to high degree.

He who has fostered the sweet poison of love by fondling it, finds it too late to refuse the yoke which he has of his own accord assumed.

Philosophy takes as her aim the state of happiness...she shows us what are real and what are only apparent evils. She strips men's minds of empty thinking, bestows a greatness that is solid and administers a check to greatness where it is puffed up and all an empty show; she sees that we are left no doubt about the difference between what is great and what is bloated.

It is a rough road that leads to the heights of greatness.

We are born to lose and to perish, to hope and to fear, to vex ourselves and others; and there is no antidote against a common calamity but virtue; for the foundation of true joy is in the conscience.