“Death is nothing to us, it matters not one jot, since the nature of the mind is understood to be mortal.”

All life is a struggle in the dark.

We plainly perceive that the mind strengthens and decays with the body.

All nature, then, as self-sustained, consists Of twain of things: of bodies and of void In which they’re set, and where they’re moved around.

It’s easier to avoid the snares of love than to escape once you are in that net whose cords and knots are strong; but even so, enmeshed, entangled, you can still get out unless, poor fool, you stand in your own way.

Under what law each thing was created, and how necessary it is for it to continue under this, and how it cannot annul the strong rules that govern its lifetime.

Fear holds dominion over mortality Only because, seeing in land and sky So much the cause whereof no wise they know, Men think Divinities are working there.

There is so much wrong with the world.

What once sprung from the earth sinks back into the earth.

We notice that the mind grows with the body, and with it decays.

No fact is so simple that it is not harder to believe than to doubt at the first presentation. Equally, there is nothing so mighty or so marvelous that the wonder it evokes does not tend to diminish in time.

Forbear to spew out reason from your mind, but rather ponder everything with keen judgment; and if it seems true, own yourself vanquished, but, if it is false, gird up your loins to fight.

Nothing comes from nothing.

Tears for the mourners who are left behind Peace everlasting for the quiet dead.

There is no place in nature for extinction.

In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.

From the midst of the very fountain of pleasure, something of bitterness arises to vex us in the flower of enjoyment.