There are two kinds of pleasures. Diseases obstruct physical pleasures, but do not deny them; even, at a closer look, I stir them up. If someone is thirsty, he likes to drink more; eating is more enjoyable for the flames; everything that comes after a period of abstinence is taken with greater greed.
On the other hand, no physician forbids the patient the pleasures of the spirit, which are bigger and safer. Whoever aspires to these and knows them well, looks down at all the mingling of the senses.
“O, the poor sick!” And why? Because he can not mix ice into wine? Because he can not keep his fresh drink, prepared in a large cup, adding ice pieces? Because the shells of Lake Lucrinus are not opened beforehand, even at the table? Because, while the dinosaur, is not surrounded by the chefs who bring the ovens along with the vegetables? Dishmat has also invented this now: that the dishes do not get hot, and the sky already thickened to feel too warm, the kitchen comes together with dinner. “Oh, the poor sick man!” He will eat as much as he can devour: no more predatory boars will be left from the table as too much precious meat – they will not be cut into pieces the bird’s chest (to see them whole, would turn your stomach back). What’s wrong with all this? You will eat such a sick person, or even finally, as a healthy man.
But all these troubles we will endure but willingly, the boils, the hot water and all the others seem to be unbearable to the scriptures worshiped by pleasures and sick more to the spirit than to the flesh. All this will cease if we understand the boundaries of good and evil; only then will we no longer be disgusted with life or frightened by death. It can not be scrutinized by the one who searches them all – various, meaningful, divine: one who lives mournfully in trindavia usually hates life. If someone looks at nature, the truth, then he will never be bored; only things warm up saturation to disgust. And then, if death comes or is called, even if it is early, even if it cuts its life to half, it has now gathered the fruits of a long existence. He knows much of nature; he knows that moral values do not increase with the passage of time: only to people who measure their lives after deserted pleasures and, therefore, endlessly, every life seems obligatory, short.
Refresh yourself with these thoughts and, in the meantime, carefully read my letters. Finally, a time will come when we will come again to live together; no matter how short it is, if we use it well, it will take a long time. For, as Posidonius says, “a single day in the life of a cultivated man is longer than the longest existence of a fool.” Until then, hold fast to this rule: do not give up before the opposite happenings, do not Believe in the good ones, keep before your eyes the good-liking of fate, as if he would accomplish all he can accomplish. Anything that is long awaited is easier to bear.