Cicero and Brutus begin a conversation on the nature of pain. Brutus immediately concedes that pain isn't the worst possible evil. Infamy, which indicates a bad character, is to be avoided even at the cost of pain.

How few philosophers will you meet with whose life is conformable to the dictates of reason! Who look on their profession, not as a means of displaying their learning, but as a rule for their own practice!

Some people have a natural talent for music. But everyone can learn to play an instrument, even if they don't get to perform at Carnegie Hall. The same goes for philosophy: everyone can benefit from it, but not everyone is a sage.

We who pursue only probabilities, and who cannot go beyond that which seems really likely, can confute others without obstinacy, and are prepared to be confuted ourselves without resentment.

Cicero explains to his friend Brutus why he writes about philosophy, and why in order to do so well he has to be acquainted with a large variety of fields of inquiry. Philosophical knowledge leads to the good life.

How can that be miserable for one, which all must of necessity undergo?

Cicero recounts an anecdote involving Trophonius and Agamedes, who built the temple of Apollo at Delphi. They asked the god for whatever was best, and the god granted it: three days later, they were found dead.

People carry out all sorts of rites to "take care" of the dead, even though there is no one to take care of. How about, instead, taking care of the people you love while they are still alive?

Diogenes the Cynic famously didn't care what happened to his body after death, since he believed there would be no sensation. That's an excellent reason to check your driver's license and see if you signed up for organ donation.

Aristotle discovered some insects whose entire life lasts one day. Compared to the vastness of time, our lives are not much longer. The question is whether we are able to live them fully.