In other living creatures the ignorance of themselves is nature, but in men it is a vice.
BOETHIUSLove has three kinds of origin, namely: suffering, friendship and love. A human love has a corporal and intellectual origin.
More Boethius Quotes
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In every adversity of fortune, to have been happy is the most unhappy kind of misfortune.
BOETHIUS -
I scarcely know the meaning of your question; much less can I answer it.
BOETHIUS -
You know when you have found your prince because you not only have a smile on your face but in your heart as well. Love puts the fun in together, the sad in apart, and the joy in a heart. Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law.
BOETHIUS -
And no renown can render you well-known: For if you think that fame can lengthen life By mortal famousness immortalized, The day will come that takes your fame as well, And there a second death for you awaits.
BOETHIUS -
As far as possible, join faith to reason.
BOETHIUS -
Inconsistency is my very essence; it is the game I never cease to play as I turn my wheel in its ever changing circle, filled with joy as I bring the top to the bottom and the bottom to the top.
BOETHIUS -
Music is part of us, and either ennobles or degrades our behavior.
BOETHIUS -
One’s virtue is all that one truly has, because it is not imperiled by the vicissitudes of fortune.
BOETHIUS -
He who is virtuous is wise; and he who is wise is good; and he who is good is happy.
BOETHIUS -
No man can ever be secure until he has been forsaken by Fortune.
BOETHIUS -
The completely simultaneous and perfect possession of unlimited life at a single moment.
BOETHIUS -
Contemplate the extent and stability of the heavens, and then at last cease to admire worthless things.
BOETHIUS -
In every kind of adversity, the bitterest part of a man’s affliction is to remember that he once was happy.
BOETHIUS -
Whose happiness is so firmly established that he has no quarrel from any side with his estate of life?
BOETHIUS -
Whose souls, albeit in a cloudy memory, yet seek back their good, but, like drunk men, know not the road home.
BOETHIUS







