The mind gives the color

If something is difficult for you to accomplish, don't think it impossible for man; but if it's possible for man and in keeping with his nature, believe that it can be reached by you too.

In gymnastic exercises, suppose someone has torn you with his nails and, by cracking against your head, has given you a wound. Well, we don't show any sign of resentment, nor are we offended, nor do we afterward suspect him as a treacherous fellow—yet we are on our guard against him, not, however, as an enemy, nor with suspicion, but we simply get out of his way. Let your behavior be something like this in all the other parts of life; let us overlook many things in those who are like sparring partners in the gymnasium. For it is in our power, as I said, to get out of the way, without suspicion or hatred.

If anyone can show me and convince me that I don't think or act rightly, I will gladly change; for I'm after the truth, which never harmed anyone. It is the man who persists in his own deception and ignorance who is harmed.

I do my duty; other things don't trouble me. For they are either things without life, or things without reason, or things that have lost their way and don't know the path.

As for animals without reason, and in general all things and objects, since you have reason and they don't, treat them with a generous and free spirit. But toward human beings, since they have reason, act in a spirit of fellowship. And on every occasion call on the gods, and don't trouble yourself over how long a time you'll be doing this; for even three hours spent so are enough.

Alexander of Macedon and his stable boy were brought to the same state by death: either they were taken back among the same seminal principles of the universe, or they were alike scattered among the atoms.

Consider how many things take place in each of us within the same indivisible moment of time—things concerning the body and things concerning the soul—and then you won't be surprised that many more things, or rather all things that come into being, exist at the same time within that single all which we call the Cosmos.

If someone put to you the question of how the name Antoninus is written, would you strain your voice to force out each letter? What if they got angry—would you get angry too? Wouldn't you go on calmly and spell out every letter? Just so, in this life too, remember that every duty is made up of certain parts. These it is your business to observe, and without being disturbed or showing anger at those who are angry with you, to go on your way and complete what lies before you.

How cruel it is not to allow men to reach for the things that seem to them suited to their nature and to their advantage! And yet, in a way, you don't allow them this when you're vexed at their doing wrong. For they are certainly drawn toward these things because they suppose them suited to their nature and to their advantage.—But it isn't so.—Then teach them, and show them, without anger.

Death is a cessation of the impressions received through the senses, of the pulling of the strings that move our appetites, of the wanderings of thought, and of our service to the flesh (II. 12).

It is shameful for the soul to give way first in this life, when your body doesn't give way.

Be careful that you're not turned into a Caesar, dyed with that dye. It happens. Keep yourself simple, good, pure, serious, and free of affectation: a friend of justice, a worshipper of the gods, kind, affectionate, and energetic in every proper action. Strive to remain what philosophy wished to make you. Revere the gods and help people. Life is short. This earthly life has one harvest: a devout disposition and actions for the common good. Do everything as a disciple of Antoninus. Remember his constancy in every rational act, his evenness, his piety, the serenity of his expression, his gentleness, his disregard for empty fame, and his effort to understand things thoroughly. He never let anything pass without examining it carefully and understanding it clearly. He bore unjust blame without blaming in return. He did nothing in a hurry, refused to listen to slander, and examined character and conduct closely. He was not fault-finding, timid, suspicious, or fond of quibbling. Little contented him in lodging, bed, clothing, food, and servants. He was hard-working and patient. His spare diet let him continue until evening without needing to relieve himself earlier. He was steady and constant in friendship. He tolerated people who spoke freely against his opinions and was pleased when someone showed him a better way. He was religious without superstition. Imitate all this, so that when your last hour comes you may have as good a conscience as he had.

Return to your sober senses and call yourself back; and once you've shaken off sleep and realized that what troubled you were only dreams, now, waking, look at these things around you just as you looked at those.

I am made up of a little body and a soul. Now to this little body all things are indifferent, for it cannot perceive distinctions. But to the understanding, only those things are indifferent that are not its own activities. Whatever things, however, are its own activities are within its power—though of these, only the ones done with reference to the present; for as to the mind's future and past activities, even these are, for the present, indifferent.

Neither the labor the hand does nor that of the foot is against nature, so long as the foot does the foot's work and the hand the hand's. So neither, for a man as a man, is his labor against nature, so long as it does the things proper to a man. And if the labor is not against his nature, then it is no evil to him.

How many pleasures have been enjoyed by robbers, murderers of their own parents, tyrants.

Don't you see how craftsmen accommodate themselves, up to a point, to those who don't know their craft—yet they still hold fast to the principles of their art and won't tolerate departing from it? Isn't it strange, then, if the architect and the physician show more respect for the principles of their own arts than a man shows for his own reason, which he shares with the gods?

Asia, Europe, are corners of the universe; the whole sea a drop within the universe; Athos a little clod of the universe; the entire present moment is a point in eternity. All things are small, changeable, perishable. All things come from there, from that universal ruling power, either as direct effects or as consequences that follow from it. And so the gaping jaws of the lion, and poison, and every harmful thing—like a thorn, like mud—are afterproducts of what is grand and beautiful. Don't imagine, then, that they belong to some other order than the one you revere, but form a just estimate of the source of all things (VII. 75).

He who has seen the present has seen all things—everything that has taken place from all eternity and everything that will be for time without end; for all things are of one kind and one form.

Often consider the connection of all things in the universe and their relation to one another. For in a sense all things are woven together with one another, and in this way all are friendly to one another; for one thing follows after another in due order, thanks to the active tension of movement, the mutual sympathy of things, and the oneness of substance (ix. 1).

Fit yourself to the circumstances that have been allotted to you, and love the people among whom your lot has been cast—but love them truly, sincerely.