Body (n.) is a prison, and the better the man, the easier his escape from the bonds of the flesh.
Body (n.) is built like a well-planned house: as an architect keeps the drains away from the master's eyes and nose, nature has set what is offensive in us far from our senses.
Body (n.) is like a thing glued together: hard to pull asunder when the glue is fresh, easily done when it is old.
Body (n.) is a prison: while shut in its framework we perform a laborious work assigned us by fate.
Body (n.) is but a kind of vessel, or receptacle of the soul; whatever your soul does is your own act.
Body (n.) both sharpens and blunts the soul that is lodged in it.