Never discourage anyone who continually makes progress, no matter how slow... even if that someone is yourself!
PlatoRead
O youth or young man, who fancy that you are neglected by the gods, know that if you become worse, you shall go to worse souls, or if better to the better... In every succession of life and death, you will do and suffer what like may fitly suffer at the hands of like. This is the justice of heaven.
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes that one's fate and experiences are shaped by one's own character and choices.
Plato highlights the idea that individuals attract experiences and relationships that reflect their own virtues or vices. The essence of justice, as explained here, is that people will encounter others who resonate with their own qualities—good or bad—thus life presents a consistent balance according to one's own moral standing.
In practice
A motivational speaker might use this quote to encourage people to cultivate their character.
Never discourage anyone who continually makes progress, no matter how slow... even if that someone is yourself!
Not one of them who took up in his youth with this opinion that there are no gods ever continued until old age faithful to his conviction.
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Pleasure is the greatest incentive to evil.
Nothing in the affairs of men is worthy of great anxiety.
Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit of reverence.
You see, the outcome of the battle is unimportant. What matters is the chaos, and the slaughter.
All the stories are fictions. What matters is which fiction you believe.
The world is wider in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain and Lazarus.
Islamophobia has become so mainstream in this country that Americans have been trained to expect violence against Muslims - not excuse it, but expect it. And that's happened because you have an Islamophobia industry in this country devoted to making Americans think there's an enemy within.
The man of power is ruined by power, the man of money by money, the submissive man by subservience, the pleasure seeker by pleasure.
When we die, as when the scenes have been fixed on to celluloid and the scenery is pulled down and burnt — we are phantoms in the memories of our descendants. Then we are ghosts, my dear, then we are myths. But still we are together. We are the past together, we are a distant past. Beneath the dome of the mysterious stars, I still hear your voice.
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