The Body (n.) is a sign: it is the medium through which the soul says whatever it wants to say.
The Body (n.) is our tomb, as one wise man told Socrates: perhaps it is now, while alive, that we are dead.
The Body (n.) never feels thirst or hunger, on Plato's argument; what thirsts is the soul, remembering the filling the body lacks.
The Body (n.) keeps us busy in a thousand ways with its need for nurture, fills us with wants, fears and illusions — no thought of any kind ever comes to us from it.
The Body (n.) is this thing we carry around now, in which the soul is locked like an oyster in its shell — before it, we saw in pure light because we were pure.
The Body (n.) cannot make the soul good by being fit; it is the good soul that, by its own virtue, makes the body as good as it can be.
The Body (n.) could not tell medicine from pastry if it judged by its own gratification; everything would be mixed together, as in Anaxagoras's world before order.