Letters from a Stoic

by Seneca

For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed. Whatever years be behind us are in death's hands.

I do not regard a man as poor, if the little which remains is enough for him.

Everywhere means nowhere.

make life as a whole agreeable to yourself by banishing all worry about it.

That which is enough is ready to our hands. He who has made a fair compact with poverty is rich.