Blot Out Vain Pomp; Check

You Are Making An Inopportune Rejection Of What Nature Has Given You Today, If All Your Mind Is Set On What Men Will Say Of You Tomorrow.

The Mind Which Is Free From Passions Is A Citadel, For Man Has Nothing More Secure To Which He Can Fly For Refuge And For The Future Be Inexpugnable . He Then Who Has Not Seen This Is An Ignorant Man: But He Who Has Seen It And Does Not Fly To This Refuge Is Unhappy.

He Who Eats My Bread, Does My Will.

Death Is A Release From The Impressions Of The Senses, And From Desires That Make Us Their Puppets, And From The Vagaries Of The Mind, And From The Hard Service Of The Flesh.

All Things Of The Body Stream Away Like A River, All Things Of The Mind Are Dreams And Delusion; Life Is Warfare, And A Visit To A Strange Land; The Only Lasting Fame Is Oblivion.