Mortality

Of human life the time is a point, the substance flowing, the perception dull... The only thing that escorts a man on his way is philosophy.

Do not act as if thou wert going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over thee. While thou livest, while it is in thy power, be good.

Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act and thought accordingly.

Though thou shouldst be going to live three thousand years, and as many times ten thousand years, still remember that no man loses any other life than this which he now lives.

Do every act of thy life as if it were thy last, free from all vanity, passionate deviation from reason, hypocrisy, self-love, and discontent with thy portion.

Throw away all things, and retain these few only. Further, remember that every man lives only the present moment; the rest of life has been already lived, or is uncertain.

Near is thy forgetfulness of all things; and near the forgetfulness of thee by all.

Forget everything else. Keep hold of this alone and remember it: each of us lives only now, this brief instant. The rest has been lived already, or is impossible to see.

Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part. Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed.

He who has a vehement desire for posthumous fame does not consider that every one of those who remember him will himself also die very soon.

Consider, for example, the times of Vespasian. Thou wilt see all these things: people marrying, bringing up children, sick, dying, warring, feasting, trafficking... And now that life of theirs is no where.

Think continually how many physicians are dead after often contracting their eyebrows over the sick; and how many astrologers after predicting with great pretensions the deaths of others.

This is the mark of perfection of character — to pass through every day as if it were the last, without agitation, without torpor, without pretence.

Do not despise death, but be well content with it, since this too is one of those things which nature wills.

What a soul that is which is ready, if at any moment it must be separated from the body... But this readiness must come from a man's own judgement, not from mere obstinacy, as with the Christians, but considerately and with dignity.

Continually think of those who have been very indignant at anything... Where are they all now? Smoke and ash, a tale, or not even a tale.

How small a part of boundless and unfathomable time is assigned to every man! For it is very soon swallowed up in the eternal. And how small a part of the whole substance!

Thou hast embarked, thou hast made the voyage, thou art come to shore; get out. If indeed to another life, there is no want of gods, not even there. But if to a state without sensation, thou wilt cease to be held by pains and pleasures.

Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name or not even a name; but name is sound and echo. And the things which are much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling.

We ought to consider not only that our life is daily wasting away, but also that this part of it which is called life is daily diminishing, so that the day when we are not living or not making any progress is also a day of life.

Go to the sleep with these thoughts: This body is a corpse; this dwelling is a lodging; this life is a passing journey.

Let us order our minds as if we had come to the very end. Let us postpone nothing.

Let us go to our sleep with joy and gladness; let us say: 'I have lived; the course which Fortune set for me is finished.'

Real joy, believe me, is a stern matter. Can one, do you think, despise death with a care-free countenance, or with a 'blithe and gay' expression, as our young dandies are accustomed to say?

As it is with a play, so it is with life — what matters is not how long the acting lasts, but how good it is. It is not important at what point you stop. Stop wherever you will — only make sure that you round it off with a good ending.

Rehearse this thought every day, that you may be able to depart from life contentedly; for many men clutch and cling to life, even as those who are carried down a rushing stream clutch and cling to briars and sharp rocks.

No one lives poorly who dies well, and no one lives well who dies poorly.

As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.

The wise man will live as long as he ought, not as long as he can.

No one lives poorly who dies well, and no one lives well who dies poorly.

The person who has learned to die has unlearned how to be a slave. He is above, or at least beyond, all fortune.

It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.

You live as if you were destined to live forever; no thought of your frailty ever enters your head.

It takes the whole of life to learn how to live, and — what will perhaps make you wonder more — it takes the whole of life to learn how to die.

He who has learnt to die has unlearnt to be a slave. He is superior, or at least equal, to all things.

What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears.

We are mistaken in thinking that death follows life; it precedes as well as follows it. All that was before us is death.

You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire.

No one will bring back the years; no one will restore you to yourself. Life will follow the path it began to take, and will neither reverse nor check its course.

What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears. But if you are wise, you will not weep for what is inevitable.

We are mistaken in thinking that death follows life; it both precedes and will follow it. All that was before us is death; all that will be after us is death.

Your son has not been lost to you; he has been put away. He is not dead; he is withdrawn. He is happier now, freed from the burdens of the body.

Consider when, on a voyage, your ship is anchored; if you go on shore to get water you may amuse yourself with picking up a shellfish, or an onion, in your way; but your thoughts and continual attention ought to be bent towards the ship.

Let death and exile, and all other things which appear terrible, be daily before your eyes, but chiefly death; and you will never entertain any abject thought, nor too eagerly covet anything.

I must die. Must I then die lamenting? I must be put in chains. Must I then also lament? I must go into exile. Does any man then hinder me from going with smiles and cheerfulness?

It is not things that disturb us, but our judgments about things. Death, for example, is nothing terrible, or else it would have appeared so to Socrates. But the terror consists in our judgment about death.

It is not death or pain that is to be dreaded, but the fear of pain or death. He who has overcome this fear is free.

If you wish to live a life free from sorrow, consider nothing as your own that you cannot take with you when you die. Consider your children, your wife, your property, your body, as only lent to you.

It is not the things that disturb us, but our opinions about them. Death, for instance, is not terrible, or else it would have appeared so to Socrates. The terror is in our judgment.

The wise man is not grieved by death, for he knows that he is not a body, but a soul. The soul is not harmed by the death of the body.

It is not possible to live well today unless one thinks of it as one's last.

Cato did not survive freedom, nor did freedom survive Cato.

A man is not to be called unhappy before his death. For the judgment of his life depends on its end, and a wise man is happy even in adversity.

The soul is immortal, and therefore we should not fear death. Death is either the end of all sensation, or the beginning of a better life.

Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name or not even a name; but name is sound and echo. And the things which are much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling.

As the leaves that the wind scatters to the ground, so are the generations of men.

The whole life of the philosopher, as Plato says, is a preparation for death.

Advice in old age is foolish; for what can be more absurd than to increase our provisions for the road the nearer we approach to our journey's end?

No evil is honorable; but death is honorable; therefore death is not evil.

The whole life of a philosopher is a meditation of death.