neo_faker

# Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, Book 1 & 2, was taken from the Internet Classics Archive
# https://classics.mit.edu/Antoninus/meditations.html

%{
  "text" => [
    ~s"""
    From my grandfather Verus I learned good morals and the government of my temper.

    From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a manly character.

    From my mother, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, not only from evil deeds, but even from
    evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in my way of living, far removed from the habits of the
    rich.

    From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented public schools, and to have had good
    teachers at home, and to know that on such things a man should spend liberally.

    From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue party at the games in the Circus,
    nor a partizan either of the Parmularius or the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from him
    too I learned endurance of labour, and to want little, and to work with my own hands, and not
    to meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready to listen to slander.

    From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling things, and not to give credit to what was
    said by miracle-workers and jugglers about incantations and the driving away of daemons and
    such things; and not to breed quails for fighting, nor to give myself up passionately to such
    things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have become intimate with philosophy; and to
    have been a hearer, first of Bacchius, then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written
    dialogues in my youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whatever else of the kind
    belongs to the Grecian discipline.

    From Rusticus I received the impression that my character required improvement and discipline;
    and from him I learned not to be led astray to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on
    speculative matters, nor to delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off as
    a man who practises much discipline, or does benevolent acts in order to make a display; and
    to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in
    my outdoor dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and to write my letters with simplicity,
    like the letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; and with respect to those who
    have offended me by words, or done me wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified and
    reconciled, as soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and to read carefully,
    and not to be satisfied with a superficial understanding of a book; nor hastily to give my
    assent to those who talk overmuch; and I am indebted to him for being acquainted with the
    discourses of Epictetus, which he communicated to me out of his own collection.

    From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undeviating steadiness of purpose; and to look
    to nothing else, not even for a moment, except to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp
    pains, on the occasion of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and to see clearly in a
    living example that the same man can be both most resolute and yielding, and not peevish in
    giving his instruction; and to have had before my eyes a man who clearly considered his
    experience and his skill in expounding philosophical principles as the smallest of his merits;
    and from him I learned how to receive from friends what are esteemed favours, without being
    either humbled by them or letting them pass unnoticed.

    From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family governed in a fatherly
    manner, and the idea of living conformably to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to
    look carefully after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, and those who
    form opinions without consideration: he had the power of readily accommodating himself to all,
    so that intercourse with him was more agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time he
    was most highly venerated by those who associated with him: and he had the faculty both of
    discovering and ordering, in an intelligent and methodical way, the principles necessary for
    life; and he never showed anger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion, and
    also most affectionate; and he could express approbation without noisy display, and he
    possessed much knowledge without ostentation.

    From Alexander the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and not in a reproachful way to
    chide those who uttered any barbarous or solecistic or strange-sounding expression;
    but dexterously to introduce the very expression which ought to have been used, and in the way
    of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiry about the thing itself, not about
    the word, or by some other fit suggestion.

    From Fronto I learned to observe what envy, and duplicity, and hypocrisy are in a tyrant, and
    that generally those among us who are called Patricians are rather deficient in paternal
    affection.

    From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessity to say to any one, or to
    write in a letter, that I have no leisure; nor continually to excuse the neglect of duties
    required by our relation to those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations.

    From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend finds fault, even if he should find fault
    without reason, but to try to restore him to his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak
    well of teachers, as it is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children
    truly.

    From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and to love justice; and through
    him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea
    of a polity in which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard to equal
    rights and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly government which respects most of
    all the freedom of the governed; I learned from him also consistency and undeviating
    steadiness in my regard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give to others
    readily, and to cherish good hopes, and to believe that I am loved by my friends; and in him I
    observed no concealment of his opinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his
    friends had no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish, but it was quite plain.

    From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to be led aside by anything; and cheerfulness
    in all circumstances, as well as in illness; and a just admixture in the moral character of
    sweetness and dignity, and to do what was set before me without complaining. I observed that
    everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that in all that he did he never had any
    bad intention; and he never showed amazement and surprise, and was never in a hurry, and never
    put off doing a thing, nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise his
    vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious. He was accustomed to
    do acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive, and was free from all falsehood; and he
    presented the appearance of a man who could not be diverted from right rather than of a man
    who had been improved. I observed, too, that no man could ever think that he was despised by
    Maximus, or ever venture to think himself a better man. He had also the art of being humorous
    in an agreeable way.

    In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable resolution in the things which he
    had determined after due deliberation; and no vainglory in those things which men call
    honours; and a love of labour and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to those who had
    anything to propose for the common weal; and undeviating firmness in giving to every man
    according to his deserts; and a knowledge derived from experience of the occasions for
    vigorous action and for remission. And I observed that he had overcome all passion for boys;
    and he considered himself no more than any other citizen; and he released his friends from all
    obligation to sup with him or to attend him of necessity when he went abroad, and those who
    had failed to accompany him, by reason of any urgent circumstances, always found him the same.
    I observed too his habit of careful inquiry in all matters of deliberation, and his
    persistency, and that he never stopped his investigation through being satisfied with
    appearances which first present themselves; and that his disposition was to keep his friends,
    and not to be soon tired of them, nor yet to be extravagant in his affection; and to be
    satisfied on all occasions, and cheerful; and to foresee things a long way off, and to provide
    for the smallest without display; and to check immediately popular applause and all flattery;
    and to be ever watchful over the things which were necessary for the administration of the
    empire, and to be a good manager of the expenditure, and patiently to endure the blame which
    he got for such conduct; and he was neither superstitious with respect to the gods, nor did he
    court men by gifts or by trying to please them, or by flattering the populace; but he showed
    sobriety in all things and firmness, and never any mean thoughts or action, nor love of
    novelty. And the things which conduce in any way to the commodity of life, and of which
    fortune gives an abundant supply, he used without arrogance and without excusing himself; so
    that when he had them, he enjoyed them without affectation, and when he had them not, he did
    not want them. No one could ever say of him that he was either a sophist or a home-bred
    flippant slave or a pedant; but every one acknowledged him to be a man ripe, perfect, above
    flattery, able to manage his own and other men's affairs. Besides this, he honoured those who
    were true philosophers, and he did not reproach those who pretended to be philosophers, nor
    yet was he easily led by them. He was also easy in conversation, and he made himself agreeable
    without any offensive affectation. He took a reasonable care of his body's health, not as one
    who was greatly attached to life, nor out of regard to personal appearance, nor yet in a
    careless way, but so that, through his own attention, he very seldom stood in need of the
    physician's art or of medicine or external applications. He was most ready to give way without
    envy to those who possessed any particular faculty, such as that of eloquence or knowledge of
    the law or of morals, or of anything else; and he gave them his help, that each might enjoy
    reputation according to his deserts; and he always acted conformably to the institutions of
    his country, without showing any affectation of doing so. Further, he was not fond of change
    nor unsteady, but he loved to stay in the same places, and to employ himself about the same
    things; and after his paroxysms of headache he came immediately fresh and vigorous to his
    usual occupations. His secrets were not known but very few and very rare, and these only about
    public matters; and he showed prudence and economy in the exhibition of the public spectacles
    and the construction of public buildings, his donations to the people, and in such things,
    for he was a man who looked to what ought to be done, not to the reputation which is got by a
    man's acts. He did not take the bath at unseasonable hours; he was not fond of building
    houses, nor curious about what he ate, nor about the texture and colour of his clothes, nor
    about the beauty of his slaves. His dress came from Lorium, his villa on the coast, and from
    Lanuvium generally. We know how he behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked his
    pardon; and such was all his behaviour. There was in him nothing harsh, nor implacable, nor
    violent, nor, as one may say, anything carried to the sweating point; but he examined all
    things severally, as if he had abundance of time, and without confusion, in an orderly way,
    vigorously and consistently. And that might be applied to him which is recorded of Socrates,
    that he was able both to abstain from, and to enjoy, those things which many are too weak to
    abstain from, and cannot enjoy without excess. But to be strong enough both to bear the one
    and to be sober in the other is the mark of a man who has a perfect and invincible soul, such
    as he showed in the illness of Maximus.

    To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good
    teachers, good associates, good kinsmen and friends, nearly everything good. Further, I owe it
    to the gods that I was not hurried into any offence against any of them, though I had a
    disposition which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me to do something of this kind;
    but, through their favour, there never was such a concurrence of circumstances as put me to
    the trial. Further, I am thankful to the gods that I was not longer brought up with my
    grandfather's concubine, and that I preserved the flower of my youth, and that I did not make
    proof of my virility before the proper season, but even deferred the time; that I was
    subjected to a ruler and a father who was able to take away all pride from me, and to bring me
    to the knowledge that it is possible for a man to live in a palace without wanting either
    guards or embroidered dresses, or torches and statues, and such-like show; but that it is in
    such a man's power to bring himself very near to the fashion of a private person, without
    being for this reason either meaner in thought, or more remiss in action, with respect to
    the things which must be done for the public interest in a manner that befits a ruler. I thank
    the gods for giving me such a brother, who was able by his moral character to rouse me to
    vigilance over myself, and who, at the same time, pleased me by his respect and affection;
    that my children have not been stupid nor deformed in body; that I did not make more
    proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies, in which I should perhaps have been
    completely engaged, if I had seen that I was making progress in them; that I made haste to
    place those who brought me up in the station of honour, which they seemed to desire, without
    putting them off with hope of my doing it some time after, because they were then still young;
    that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, Maximus; that I received clear and frequent impressions
    about living according to nature, and what kind of a life that is, so that, so far as depended
    on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and inspirations, nothing hindered me from forthwith
    living according to nature, though I still fall short of it through my own fault, and through
    not observing the admonitions of the gods, and, I may almost say, their direct instructions;
    that my body has held out so long in such a kind of life; that I never touched either
    Benedicta or Theodotus, and that, after having fallen into amatory passions, I was cured; and,
    though I was often out of humour with Rusticus, I never did anything of which I had occasion
    to repent; that, though it was my mother's fate to die young, she spent the last years of her
    life with me; that, whenever I wished to help any man in his need, or on any other occasion, I
    was never told that I had not the means of doing it; and that to myself the same necessity
    never happened, to receive anything from another; that I have such a wife, so obedient, and so
    affectionate, and so simple; that I had abundance of good masters for my children; and that
    remedies have been shown to me by dreams, both others, and against bloodspitting and
    giddiness...; and that, when I had an inclination to philosophy, I did not fall into the hands
    of any sophist, and that I did not waste my time on writers of histories, or in the resolution
    of syllogisms, or occupy myself about the investigation of appearances in the heavens; for all
    these things require the help of the gods and fortune.

    Among the Quadi at the Granua.

    Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, the ungrateful,
    arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their
    ignorance of what is good and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is
    beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong, that it is
    akin to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that it participates in the same
    intelligence and the same portion of the divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them,
    for no one can fix on me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate him, For
    we are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like the rows of the upper
    and lower teeth. To act against one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting
    against one another to be vexed and to turn away.

    Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part. Throw away
    thy books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying,
    despise the flesh; it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and
    arteries. See the breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air, and not always the same, but
    every moment sent out and again sucked in. The third then is the ruling part: consider thus:
    Thou art an old man; no longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the strings like a
    puppet to unsocial movements, no longer either be dissatisfied with thy present lot, or shrink
    from the future.

    All that is from the gods is full of Providence. That which is from fortune is not separated
    from nature or without an interweaving and involution with the things which are ordered by
    Providence. From thence all things flow; and there is besides necessity, and that which is for
    the advantage of the whole universe, of which thou art a part. But that is good for every part
    of nature which the nature of the whole brings, and what serves to maintain this nature. Now
    the universe is preserved, as by the changes of the elements so by the changes of things
    compounded of the elements. Let these principles be enough for thee, let them always be fixed
    opinions. But cast away the thirst after books, that thou mayest not die murmuring, but
    cheerfully, truly, and from thy heart thankful to the gods.

    Remember how long thou hast been putting off these things, and how often thou hast received an
    opportunity from the gods, and yet dost not use it. Thou must now at last perceive of what
    universe thou art a part, and of what administrator of the universe thy existence is an
    efflux, and that a limit of time is fixed for thee, which if thou dost not use for clearing
    away the clouds from thy mind, it will go and thou wilt go, and it will never return.

    Every moment think steadily as a Roman and a man to do what thou hast in hand with perfect and
    simple dignity, and feeling of affection, and freedom, and justice; and to give thyself relief
    from all other thoughts. And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of thy
    life as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness and passionate aversion from the
    commands of reason, and all hypocrisy, and self-love, and discontent with the portion which
    has been given to thee. Thou seest how few the things are, the which if a man lays hold of, he
    is able to live a life which flows in quiet, and is like the existence of the gods; for the
    gods on their part will require nothing more from him who observes these things.

    Do wrong to thyself, do wrong to thyself, my soul; but thou wilt no longer have the
    opportunity of honouring thyself. Every man's life is sufficient. But thine is nearly
    finished, though thy soul reverences not itself but places thy felicity in the souls of
    others.

    Do the things external which fall upon thee distract thee? Give thyself time to learn
    something new and good, and cease to be whirled around. But then thou must also avoid being
    carried about the other way. For those too are triflers who have wearied themselves in life by
    their activity, and yet have no object to which to direct every movement, and, in a word, all
    their thoughts.

    Through not observing what is in the mind of another a man has seldom been seen to be unhappy;
    but those who do not observe the movements of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy.

    This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature of the whole, and what is my nature,
    and how this is related to that, and what kind of a part it is of what kind of a whole; and
    that there is no one who hinders thee from always doing and saying the things which are
    according to the nature of which thou art a part.

    Theophrastus, in his comparison of bad acts- such a comparison as one would make in accordance
    with the common notions of mankind- says, like a true philosopher, that the offences which are
    committed through desire are more blameable than those which are committed through anger. For
    he who is excited by anger seems to turn away from reason with a certain pain and unconscious
    contraction; but he who offends through desire, being overpowered by pleasure, seems to be in
    a manner more intemperate and more womanish in his offences. Rightly then, and in a way worthy
    of philosophy, he said that the offence which is committed with pleasure is more blameable
    than that which is committed with pain; and on the whole the one is more like a person who has
    been first wronged and through pain is compelled to be angry; but the other is moved by his
    own impulse to do wrong, being carried towards doing something by desire.

    Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act
    and thought accordingly. But to go away from among men, if there are gods, is not a thing to
    be afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or
    if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of
    gods or devoid of Providence? But in truth they do exist, and they do care for human things,
    and they have put all the means in man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils. And
    as to the rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that it
    should be altogether in a man's power not to fall into it. Now that which does not make a man
    worse, how can it make a man's life worse? But neither through ignorance, nor having the
    knowledge, but not the power to guard against or correct these things, is it possible that the
    nature of the universe has overlooked them; nor is it possible that it has made so great a
    mistake, either through want of power or want of skill, that good and evil should happen
    indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death certainly, and life, honour and dishonour,
    pain and pleasure, all these things equally happen to good men and bad, being things which
    make us neither better nor worse. Therefore they are neither good nor evil.

    How quickly all things disappear, in the universe the bodies themselves, but in time the
    remembrance of them; what is the nature of all sensible things, and particularly those which
    attract with the bait of pleasure or terrify by pain, or are noised abroad by vapoury fame;
    how worthless, and contemptible, and sordid, and perishable, and dead they are- all this it is
    the part of the intellectual faculty to observe. To observe too who these are whose opinions
    and voices give reputation; what death is, and the fact that, if a man looks at it in itself,
    and by the abstractive power of reflection resolves into their parts all the things which
    present themselves to the imagination in it, he will then consider it to be nothing else than
    an operation of nature; and if any one is afraid of an operation of nature, he is a child.
    This, however, is not only an operation of nature, but it is also a thing which conduces to
    the purposes of nature. To observe too how man comes near to the deity, and by what part of
    him, and when this part of man is so disposed.

    Nothing is more wretched than a man who traverses everything in a round, and pries into the
    things beneath the earth, as the poet says, and seeks by conjecture what is in the minds of
    his neighbours, without perceiving that it is sufficient to attend to the daemon within him,
    and to reverence it sincerely. And reverence of the daemon consists in keeping it pure from
    passion and thoughtlessness, and dissatisfaction with what comes from gods and men. For the
    things from the gods merit veneration for their excellence; and the things from men should be
    dear to us by reason of kinship; and sometimes even, in a manner, they move our pity by reason
    of men's ignorance of good and bad; this defect being not less than that which deprives us of
    the power of distinguishing things that are white and black.

    Though thou shouldst be going to live three thousand years, and as many times ten thousand
    years, still remember that no man loses any other life than this which he now lives, nor lives
    any other than this which he now loses. The longest and shortest are thus brought to the same.
    For the present is the same to all, though that which perishes is not the same; and so that
    which is lost appears to be a mere moment. For a man cannot lose either the past or the
    future: for what a man has not, how can any one take this from him? These two things then thou
    must bear in mind; the one, that all things from eternity are of like forms and come round in
    a circle, and that it makes no difference whether a man shall see the same things during a
    hundred years or two hundred, or an infinite time; and the second, that the longest liver and
    he who will die soonest lose just the same. For the present is the only thing of which a man
    can be deprived, if it is true that this is the only thing which he has, and that a man cannot
    lose a thing if he has it not.

    Remember that all is opinion. For what was said by the Cynic Monimus is manifest: and manifest
    too is the use of what was said, if a man receives what may be got out of it as far as it is
    true.

    The soul of man does violence to itself, first of all, when it becomes an abscess and, as it
    were, a tumour on the universe, so far as it can. For to be vexed at anything which happens is
    a separation of ourselves from nature, in some part of which the natures of all other things
    are contained. In the next place, the soul does violence to itself when it turns away from any
    man, or even moves towards him with the intention of injuring, such as are the souls of those
    who are angry. In the third place, the soul does violence to itself when it is overpowered by
    pleasure or by pain. Fourthly, when it plays a part, and does or says anything insincerely and
    untruly. Fifthly, when it allows any act of its own and any movement to be without an aim, and
    does anything thoughtlessly and without considering what it is, it being right that even the
    smallest things be done with reference to an end; and the end of rational animals is to follow
    the reason and the law of the most ancient city and polity.

    Of human life the time is a point, and the substance is in a flux, and the perception dull,
    and the composition of the whole body subject to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and
    fortune hard to divine, and fame a thing devoid of judgement. And, to say all in a word,
    everything which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul is a dream and
    vapour, and life is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after-fame is oblivion. What then
    is that which is able to conduct a man? One thing and only one, philosophy. But this consists
    in keeping the daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, superior to pains and
    pleasures, doing nothing without purpose, nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the
    need of another man's doing or not doing anything; and besides, accepting all that happens,
    and all that is allotted, as coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence he himself came;
    and, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful mind, as being nothing else than a dissolution
    of the elements of which every living being is compounded. But if there is no harm to the
    elements themselves in each continually changing into another, why should a man have any
    apprehension about the change and dissolution of all the elements? For it is according to
    nature, and nothing is evil which is according to nature.

    This in Carnuntum.
    """
  ]
}