Crows pick out the eyes of the dead, when the dead have no longer need of them; but flatterers mar the soul of the living, and her eyes they blind.
EpictetusRead
If thy brother wrongs thee, remember not so much his wrong-doing, but more than ever that he is thy brother.
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes the importance of familial bonds over grievances.
Epictetus encourages us to overlook the wrongdoings of our siblings by reminding us of the fundamental relationship and connection we share as brothers. This perspective aims to foster forgiveness and understanding, highlighting the value of family ties even in the face of conflict or harm.
In practice
In a family gathering, to promote peace after a disagreement.
Crows pick out the eyes of the dead, when the dead have no longer need of them; but flatterers mar the soul of the living, and her eyes they blind.
Learn to distinguish what you can and can't control. Within our control are our own opinions, aspirations, desires and the things that repel us. They are directly subject to our influence.
Men are disturbed not by the things that happen, but by their opinion of the things that happen.
Nothing truly stops you. Nothing truly holds you back. For your own will is always within your control. Sickness may challenge your body. But are you merely your body? Lameness may impede your legs. But you are not merely your legs. Your will is bigger than your legs. Your will needn't be affected by an incident unless you let it.
The people have a right to the truth as they have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Practice yourself, for heaven's sake, in little things, and thence proceed to greater.
She knew that she could not have reached this white serenity except as the sum of all the colors, of all the violence she had known.
The prescription for endless war poses a far greater danger to Americans than perceived enemies do, for reasons the terrorist organisations understand very well.
Acceptance means: For now, this is what this situation, this moment, requires me to do, and so I do it willingly.
We are our stories. We tell them to stay alive or keep alive those who only live now in the telling.
One is almost tempted to say that the language itself is a mythology deprived of its vitality, a bloodless mythology so to speak, which has only preserved in a formal and abstract form what mythology contains in living and concrete form.
On the one hand maybe Iβve remained infantile, while on the other I matured quickly, because at a young age I was very aware of suffering and fear.
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