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
In every kind of adversity, the bitterest part of a man’s affliction is to remember that he once was happy.
More Boethius Quotes
-
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 -
As far as possible, join faith to reason.
BOETHIUS -
As far as possible, join faith to reason.
BOETHIUS -
The good is the end toward which all things tend.
BOETHIUS -
-
All fortune is good fortune; for it either rewards, disciplines, amends, or punishes, and so is either useful or just.
BOETHIUS -
Good men seek it by the natural means of the virtues; evil men, however, try to achieve the same goal by a variety of concupiscences, and that is surely an unnatural way of seeking the good. Don’t you agree?
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 -
Nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it.
BOETHIUS -
Nothing is miserable unless you think it so.
BOETHIUS -
Whose happiness is so firmly established that he has no quarrel from any side with his estate of life?
BOETHIUS -
Man is so constituted that he then only excels other things when he knows himself.
BOETHIUS -
He who has calmly reconciled his life to fate, and set proud death beneath his feet, can look fortune in the face, unbending both to good and bad; his countenance unconquered.
BOETHIUS -
I scarcely know the meaning of your question; much less can I answer it.
BOETHIUS -
For in all adversity of fortune the worst sort of misery is to have been happy.
BOETHIUS -
The now that passes produces time, the now that remains produces eternity.
BOETHIUS