Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Seneca greets his Lucilius:

Continue to act thus, my dear Lucilius—set yourself free for your own sake; gather and save your time, which till lately has been forced from you, or filched away, or has merely slipped from your hands. Make yourself believe that what I tell you is true: that certain moments are torn from us, that some are gently removed, and that others glide beyond our reach. The most disgraceful kind of loss, however, is that due to carelessness.

Furthermore, if you will pay close heed to the problem, you will find that the largest portion of our life passes while we are doing ill, a goodly share while we are doing nothing, and the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose.

What man can you show me who places any value on his time, who reckons the worth of each day, who understands that he is dying daily? For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed. Whatever years lie behind us are in death’s hands.

Therefore, Lucilius, do as you write me that you are doing: hold every hour in your grasp. Lay hold of today’s task, and you will not need to depend so much upon tomorrow’s. While we are postponing, life speeds by.

Nothing, to my way of thinking, is a better proof of a well-ordered mind than a man’s ability to stop just where he is and pass some time in his own company. Take care, however, that this retirement of yours, which you tell me you are making, is not a retirement from all activity, but rather a retirement for activity.

You must be always learning something useful. But what does learning profit a man, if he is not going to make use of it? And of what use is knowledge that cannot be turned to account?

The acquisition of riches has been for many men, not an end, but a change, of troubles. What is the good of having what you dare not use? What is the good of having what you cannot enjoy?

It is likely that some troubles will befall us; but it is not a present fact. How often has the unexpected happened! How often has the expected never come to pass! Even if it is ordained to be, what is the good of deliberately anticipating your suffering?

You will die not because you are ill, but because you are alive. But that trouble is waiting for you: meanwhile live happily. There will come a time when you will be forced to endure that which you cannot change. But for now, since all things are doubtful and nothing is certain, hope for the best.

Time will either heal your troubles or end them. Each day, as it comes, should be welcomed as the very best day of all, and should be made your own possession. We must seize what flees.

Now I must close my letter. “What?” you say, “shall it come to me without any little contribution, without any saying for me to take away?” Be not troubled; I shall not send you away empty-handed.

Here is something useful for you: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” Do you ask what author says this? Seneca says it. But if you want it to come from a more distinguished source, listen to Epicurus: “Rehearse death daily.”

This may sound gloomy advice, but it is actually glorious: when a man has learned not to fear death, he has unlearned how to be a slave. He is beyond the reach of all human authority. What are dungeons, bonds, and penalties to him? He has a safe exit from life.

Farewell.