praise help them.
- To decompose is to be recomposed.
That’s what nature does. Nature—through whom all things
happen as they should, and have happened forever in just the
same way, and will continue to, one way or another,
endlessly.
That things happen for the worst and always will, that the
gods have no power to regulate them, and the world is
condemned to never-ending evil—how can you say that?
- Disgust at what things are made of: Liquid, dust, bones,
filth. Or marble as hardened dirt, gold and silver as residues,
clothes as hair, purple dye as shellfish blood. And all the
rest.
And the same with our living breath—transformed from
one thing to another.
- Enough of this wretched, whining monkey life.
What’s the matter? Is any of this new? What is it you find
surprising?
The purpose? Look at it.The material? Look at that.