- What dies doesn’t vanish. It stays here in the world,
transformed, dissolved, as parts of the world, and of you.
Which are transformed in turn—without grumbling. - Everything is here for a purpose, from horses to vine
shoots. What’s surprising about that? Even the sun will tell
you, “I have a purpose,” and the other gods as well. And why
were you born? For pleasure? See if that answer will stand
up to questioning. - Nature is like someone throwing a ball in the air, gauging
its rise and arc—and where it will fall. And what does the
ball gain as it flies upward? Or lose when it plummets to
earth?
What does the bubble gain from its existence? Or lose by
bursting?
And the same for a candle.- Turn it inside out: What is it like? What is it like old? Or
sick? Or selling itself on the streets?
They all die soon—praiser and praised, rememberer and
remembered. Remembered in these parts or in a corner of
them. Even there they don’t all agree with each other (or
even with themselves).