Цитаты из книги автора Marcus Aurelius The Meditations

To read with diligence; not to rest satisfied with a light and superficial knowledge

Is any man so foolish as to fear change, to which all things that
once were not owe their being

If thou find­est in hu­man life any­thing bet­ter than justice, truth, tem­per­ance, forti­tude, and, in a word, any­thing bet­ter than thy own mind’s self-sat­is­fac­tion in the things which it en­ables thee to do ac­cord­ing to right reason, and in the con­di­tion that is as­signed to thee without thy own choice;

In he morn­ing when thou risest un­will­ingly, let this thought be present—I am rising to the work of a hu­man be­ing. Why then am I dis­sat­is­fied if I am go­ing to do the things for which I ex­ist and for which I was brought into the world? Or have I been made for this, to lie in the bed­clothes and keep my­self warm?—But this is more pleas­ant.—Dost thou ex­ist then to take thy pleas­ure, and not at all for ac­tion or ex­er­tion? Dost thou not see the little plants, the little birds, the ants, the spiders, the bees work­ing to­gether to put in or­der their sev­eral parts of the uni­verse? And art thou un­will­ing to do the work of a hu­man be­ing, and dost thou not make haste to do that which is ac­cord­ing to thy nature?—But it is ne­ces­sary to take rest also.—It is ne­ces­sary: how­ever nature has fixed bounds to this too: she has fixed bounds both to eat­ing and drink­ing, and yet thou goest bey­ond these bounds, bey­ond what is suf­fi­cient; yet in thy acts it is not so, but thou stoppest short of what thou canst do. So thou lovest not thy­self, for if thou didst, thou wouldst love thy nature and her will. But those who love their sev­eral arts ex­haust them­selves in work­ing at them un­washed and without food; but thou val­uest thy own own nature less than the turner val­ues the turn­ing art, or the dan­cer the dan­cing art, or the lover of money val­ues his money, or the vain­glori­ous man his little glory. And such men, when they have a vi­ol­ent af­fec­tion to a thing, choose neither to eat nor to sleep rather than to per­fect the things which they care for. But are the acts which con­cern so­ci­ety more vile in thy eyes and less worthy of thy la­bour?

nor con­tinu­ally to ex­cuse the neg­lect of du­ties re­quired by our re­la­tion to those with whom we live, by al­leging ur­gent oc­cu­pa­tions.

he never showed an­ger or any other pas­sion, but was en­tirely free from pas­sion, and also most af­fec­tion­ate; and he could ex­press ap­prob­a­tion without noisy dis­play, and he pos­sessed much know­ledge without os­ten­ta­tion.

how to re­ceive from friends what are es­teemed fa­vours, without be­ing either humbled by them or let­ting them pass un­noticed.

un­devi­at­ing stead­i­ness of pur­pose; and to look to noth­ing else, not even for a mo­ment, ex­cept to reason; and to be al­ways the same, in sharp pains, on the oc­ca­sion of the loss of a child, and in long ill­ness

does be­ne­vol­ent acts in or­der to make a dis­play;

nor to show­ing my­self off as a man who prac­tises much dis­cip­line