
The nature of stoicism
is imagined
nature is indifferent
living is the opposite
of indifference

The nature of stoicism
is imagined
nature is indifferent
living is the opposite
of indifference

Plato sat in his cage
accused of performing
for the shadows
by a jealous onlooker
a failed teacher of freedom

Great philosophies
start at birth
and your family
they drive
toward their own goal
not truth
only your cousin
the scientists
may still be interested in
truth

The road of a philosopher to their truth
feels to them like the first
carefully orchestrated
steps
on a new beach
looking back
they see clearly their path
…
let everybody
make their reasonable first steps
in the sand

What is true
is not necessarily life
what is moral
is not necessarily true
what is life
a fiction?

My philosophy
wanders like the animal chooses
like birth itself
does not shape you
neither is a philosophy not shaped
by its birth
our philosophy
is not the measure of man

The angel and devil
are not distant cousins
but brother and sister
they can live apart
but come from one
this is perhaps
the new message

Why not rather untruth?
Is the search for truth
not a deep look in the mirror
where your-self
submits you

485 Distant perspectives. – A: But why this solitude? – B: I am not at odds with anyone. But when I am alone I seem to see my friends in a clearer and fairer light than when I am with them; and when I loved and appreciated music the most, I lived far from it. It seems I need a distant perspective if I am to think well of things.
487 Shame. – Here stands the handsome steed and paws the ground: it snorts, longs for the gallop and loves him who usually rides him – but oh shame! his rider cannot mount up onto his back today, he is weary.- This is the shame of the wearied philosopher before his own philosophy.
489 Friends in need. – Sometimes we notice that one of our friends belongs more to another than he does to us, and that his delicacy is troubled by and his selfishness inadequate to this decision: we then have to make things easier for him and estrange him from us.- This is likewise necessary when we adopt a way of thinking which would be ruinous to him: our love for him has to drive us, through an injustice which

468 The realm of beauty is bigger. – As we go about in nature, with joy and cunning, bent on discovering and as it were catching in the act the beauty proper to everything; as we try to see how that piece of coastline, with its rocks, inlets, olive trees and pines, attains to its perfection and mastery whether in the sunshine, or when the sky is stormy, or when twilight has almost gone: so we ought to go about among men, viewing and discovering them, showing them their good and evil, so that they shall behold their own proper beauty which unfolds itself in one case in the sunlight, in another amid storms, and in a third only when night is falling and the sky is full of rain. Is it then forbidden to enjoy the evil man as a wild landscape possessing its own bold lineaments and effects of light, if the same man appears to our eyes as a sketch and caricature and, as a blot in nature, causes us pain, when he poses as good and law-abiding? – Yes, it is forbidden: hitherto we have been permitted to seek beauty only in the morally good – a fact which sufficiently accounts for our having found so little of it and having had to seek about for imaginary beauties without backbone! – As surely as the wicked enjoy a hundred kinds of happiness of which the virtuous have no inkling, so too they possess a hundred kinds of beauty: and many of them have not yet been discovered.

454 Digression. -A book such as this is not for reading straight through or reading aloud but for dipping into, especially when out walking or on a journey; you must be able to stick your head into it and out of it again and again and discover nothing familiar around you.

450 The allurement of knowledge. – A glance through the portals of science affects passionate spirits as the magic of all magic; and it will probably turn them into fantasists and, in the most favourable case, into poets: so vehement is their craving for the happiness of those with knowledge. Does it not thrill through all your senses – this sound of sweet allurement with which science has proclaimed its glad tidings, in a hundred phrases and in the hundred-and-first and fairest: ‘Let delusion vanish! Then “woe is me!” will vanish too; and with “woe is me!” woe itself will be gone.’ (Marcus Aurelius)

437 Privileges. – He who really possesses himself, that is to say he who has definitively conquered himself, henceforth regards it as his own privilege to punish himself, to pardon himself, to take pity on himself: he does not need to concede this to anyone else, but he can freely relinquish it to another, to a friend for example- but he knows that he therewith confers a right and that one can confer rights only out of the possession of power.
438Man and things. – Why does man not see things? He Js himself standing in the way: he conceals things.
440 Do not renounce:– To forego the world without knowing it, like a nun that leads to a fruitless, perhaps melancholy solitude. It has nothing in common with the solitude of the vita contemplativa of the thinker: when he chooses that he is renouncing nothing; on the contrary, it would be renunciation, melancholy, destruction of himself if he
were obliged to persist in the vita practica: he foregoes this because he knows it, because he knows himself. Thus he leaps into his element, thus he gains his cheerfulness.

434 Making intercession.– Unprepossessing landscapes exist for the great landscape painters, remarkable and rare ones for the petty. For the great things of nature and mankind have to intercede for all the petty, mediocre and ambitious among their admirers- but the great man intercedes for the simple things.

423 In the great silence. – Here is the sea, here we can forget the city. The bells are noisily ringing the angelus – it is the time for that sad and foolish yet sweet noise, sounded at the crossroads of day and night, but it will last only for a minute! Now all is still! The sea lies there pale and glittering; it cannot speak. The sky plays its everlasting silent evening game with red and yellow and green, it cannot speak. The little cliffs and ribbons of rock that run down into the sea as if to find the place where it is most solitary, none of them can speak. This tremendous muteness which suddenly overcomes us is lovely and dreadful, the heart swells at it. – Oh the hypocrisy of this silent beauty! How well it could speak, and how evilly too, if it wished! Its ued tongue and its expression of sorrowing happiness is a deception: it wants to mock at your sympathy!- So be it! I am not ashamed of being mocked by such powers. But I pity you, nature, that you have to be silent, even though it is only your malice which ties your tongue; yes, I pity you on account of your malice!- Ah, it is growing yet more still, my heart swells again: it is startled by a new truth, it too cannot speak, it too mocks when the mouth calls something into this beauty, it too enjoys its sweet silent malice. I begin to hate speech, to hate even thinking; for do I not hear behind every word the laughter of error, of imagination, of the spirit of delusion? Must I not mock at my pity? Mock at my mockery?- 0 sea, 0 evening! You are evil instructors! You teach man to cease to be man! Shall he surrender to you? Shall he become as you now arc, pale, glittering, mute, tremendous, reposing above himself? Exalted above himself?