Misfortune (n.) exists only so long as you think it does: if you are unfortunate, you are not so unless you think so.
Misfortune (n.) grazes the wise man but does not wound him.
Misfortune (n.) is measured by belief: one is only as unfortunate as one believes oneself to be.
Misfortune (n.) is fickle too: men have survived their own executioners, and the sword has been checked at the victim's throat.
Misfortune (n.) shrinks with rehearsal: picture exile, torture, war and shipwreck in advance, and rare blows will not strike you numb.
Misfortune (n.) such as illness, losses, sick slaves or a rickety house is not merely common but inevitable: such affairs come by order, not by accident.
Misfortune (n.) should be watched for not as something that might come but as something bound to come.
Misfortune (n.) can be despised though it cannot be avoided — and you will despise it if you anticipate it often.
Misfortune (n.) pondered beforehand strikes gently, for to the inexperienced a large part of evil consists in its novelty.
Misfortune (n.) is best borne by taking whatever happens as though you had wanted it — as you would have, had you known it all comes by god's decree.