Philosophy's (n.) essence is that a man should so live that his happiness shall depend as little as possible on external things.
Philosophy (n.) begins in a recognition of the conflicts between men, a search for their cause, a condemnation of mere opinion, and the discovery of a standard of judgment.
Philosophy (n.) is not to be explained. It is to be embodied.
Philosophy (n.) has no altars, though we build them to the god who gave us corn: the grain keeps us alive, the truth about happiness lets us live well.
Philosophy (n.) promises no external good — not your brother's goodwill, not land or health — because its only material is your own life, as wood is the carpenter's.
Philosophy (n.) cannot keep a stronger man from dragging you to prison by your cloak; what it teaches is that this is nothing to you.
Philosophy (n.) begins, for those who enter by the front door, with a sense of your own weakness about the things that matter most.
Philosophy (n.) is preparing to face anything; dropping it because you have a fever is like quitting the wrestling match because you were hit.
Philosophy (n.) costs sleepless nights, separation from family, a slave's scorn and losing in every court; weigh that before you trade it all for serenity and freedom.
Philosophy (n.) is taught in a doctor's surgery: you should leave the school hurting, not entertained, since you came in with a dislocated shoulder.
Philosophy (n.) makes most of us lions in the classroom and foxes in the street: we approve the arguments on the page and are nowhere near convinced by them.
Philosophy (n.) is best practised in hiding, Euphrates found: what he did well was for himself, and his faults put no one's philosophy at risk.
Philosophy (n.) poured into a conceited mind is like wine in a dirty jar: it rots into vinegar, urine, or worse.