Each Day Provides Its Own Gifts.

Consider Thyself To Be Dead, And To Have Completed Thy Life Up To The Present Time; And Live According To Nature The Remainder Which Is Allowed Thee.

One Whose Chief Regard Is For His Own Mind, And For The Divinity Within Him And The Service Of Its Goodness, Will Strike No Poses, Utter No Complaints, And Crave Neither For Solitude Nor Yet For A Crowd. Best Of All, His Life Will Be Free From Continual Pursuing And Avoiding.

Thou Mayest Foresee... The Things Which Will Be. For They Will Certainly Be Of Like Form, And It Is Not Possible That They Should Deviate From The Order Of Things Now: Accordingly To Have Contemplated Human Life For Forty Years Is The Same As To Have Contemplated It For Ten Thousand Years.

The Cucumber Is Bitter? Then Throw It Out. There Are Brambles In The Path? Then Go Around Them. That's All You Need To Know. Nothing More. Don't Demand To Know "why Such Things Exist." Anyone Who Understands The World Will Laugh At You, Just As A Carpenter Would If You Seemed Shocked At Finding Sawdust In His Workshop, Or A Shoemaker At Scraps Of Leather Left Over From Work.

When You Have Been Compelled By Circumstances To Be Disturbed In Any Manner, Quickly Return To Yourself, And Do Not Continue Out Of Tune Longer Than The Compulsion Lasts. You Will Have Increasing Control Over Your Own Harmony By Continually Returning To It.