Meditations - Marcus Aurelius (Emperor of Rome) [33]
And thus, are fellow citizens.
And fellow citizens of something.
And in that case, our state must be the world. What other entity could all of humanity belong to? And from it—from this state that we share—come thought and reason and law.
Where else could they come from? The earth that composes me derives from earth, the water from some other element, the air from its own source, the heat and fire from theirs—since nothing comes from nothing, or returns to it.
So thought must derive from somewhere else as well.
5. Death: something like birth, a natural mystery, elements that split and recombine.
Not an embarrassing thing. Not an offense to reason, or our nature.
6. That sort of person is bound to do that. You might as well resent a fig tree for secreting juice. (Anyway, before very long you’ll both be dead—dead and soon forgotten.)
7. Choose not to be harmed—and you won’t feel harmed.
Don’t feel harmed—and you haven’t been.
8. It can ruin your life only if it ruins your character. Otherwise it cannot harm you—inside or out.
9. It was for the best. So Nature had no choice but to do it.
10. That every event is the right one. Look closely and you’ll see.
Not just the right one overall, but right. As if someone had weighed it out with scales.
Keep looking closely like that, and embody it in your actions: goodness—what defines a good person.
Keep to it in everything you do.
11. Not what your enemy sees and hopes that you will, but what’s really there.
12. Two kinds of readiness are constantly needed: (i) to do only what the logos of authority and law directs, with the good of human beings in mind; (ii) to reconsider your position, when someone can set you straight or convert you to his. But your conversion should always rest on a conviction that it’s right, or benefits others—nothing else. Not because it’s more appealing or more popular.
13. You have a mind?
—Yes.
Well, why not use it? Isn’t that all you want—for it to do its job?
14. You have functioned as a part of something; you will vanish into what produced you.
Or be restored, rather.
To the logos from which all things spring.
By being changed.
15. Many lumps of incense on the same altar. One crumbles now, one later, but it makes no difference.
16. Now they see you as a beast, a monkey. But in a week they’ll think you’re a god—if you rediscover your beliefs and honor the logos.
17. Not to live as if you had endless years ahead of you. Death overshadows you. While you’re alive and able—be good.
18. The tranquillity that comes when you stop caring what they say. Or think, or do. Only what you do. (Is this fair? Is this the right thing to do?)
< . . . > not to be distracted by their darkness. To run straight for the finish line, unswerving.
19. People who are excited by posthumous fame forget that the people who remember them will soon die too. And those after them in turn. Until their memory, passed from one to another like a candle flame, gutters and goes out.
But suppose that those who remembered you were immortal and your memory undying. What good would it do you? And I don’t just mean when you’re dead, but in your own lifetime. What use is praise, except to make your lifestyle a little more comfortable?
“ You’re out of step—neglecting the gifts of nature to hand on someone’s words in the future. “
20. Beautiful things of any kind are beautiful in themselves and sufficient to themselves. Praise is extraneous. The object of praise remains what it was—no better and no worse. This applies, I think, even to “beautiful” things in ordinary life—physical objects, artworks.
Does anything genuinely beautiful need supplementing? No more than justice does—or truth, or kindness, or humility. Are any of those improved by being praised? Or damaged by contempt? Is an emerald suddenly flawed if no one admires it? Or gold, or ivory, or purple? Lyres? Knives? Flowers? Bushes?
21. If our souls survive, how does the air find room for them—all of them—since the beginning of time?
How does the earth find room for all the bodies buried in it since the beginning