All fortune is good fortune; for it either rewards, disciplines, amends, or punishes, and so is either useful or just.
BOETHIUSWhose souls, albeit in a cloudy memory, yet seek back their good, but, like drunk men, know not the road home.
More Boethius Quotes
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If there is a God, whence proceed so many evils? If there is no God, whence cometh any good?
BOETHIUS -
As far as possible, join faith to reason.
BOETHIUS -
For in every ill-turn of fortune the most unhappy sort of unfortunate man is the one who has been happy
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 -
The completely simultaneous and perfect possession of unlimited life at a single moment.
BOETHIUS -
I scarcely know the meaning of your question; much less can I answer it.
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 -
Every man must be content with that glory which he may have at home.
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 -
Give me Thy light, and fix my eyes on Thee!
BOETHIUS -
Nothing is miserable but what is thought so, and contrariwise, every estate is happy if he that bears it be content.
BOETHIUS -
He who has calmly reconciled his life to fate … can look fortune in the face.
BOETHIUS -
Nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it.
BOETHIUS -
Man is so constituted that he then only excels other things when he knows himself.
BOETHIUS -
Whose souls, albeit in a cloudy memory, yet seek back their good, but, like drunk men, know not the road home.
BOETHIUS







