Choice (n.) can stay the same on the orator's platform and in prison — one high, one low — and that is how Socrates wrote hymns in his cell.
Choice (n.) is the faculty that rules all the others: the eye only sees, but whether to look at somebody's wife, and how, the eye cannot tell you.
Choice (n.) can be hindered by nothing outside it, only by itself gone bad; that is why it alone becomes vice and it alone becomes virtue.
Choice (n.) is the one thing that can destroy the whole person — by hunger, by a noose, by a leap from a cliff — so nothing in us is more powerful.
Choice (n.) is destroyed the moment you value anything outside it — not only office, but freedom from office; not only busyness, but leisure itself.