Marcus Aurelius · a new plain-English translation from the original language
Be like the headland against which the waves constantly break; it stands firm, and around it the raging waters are lulled to rest. "How unlucky I am, that this happened to me." Not at all—rather, how lucky I am, that although this has happened to me, I remain free of grief, neither crushed by what is present nor afraid of what is coming. For such a thing could have happened to anyone, but not everyone would have remained free of grief over it. Why then call that a misfortune rather than this a good fortune? Do you really call something a misfortune for a human being, when it is not a failure of human nature? And does something seem to you to be a failure of human nature, when it is not against that nature's own will? What then? You have learned its will. Does this thing that has happened prevent you at all from being just, great-minded, self-controlled, sensible, unhasty in judgment, unerring, honorable, free—and all the rest, in whose presence human nature keeps what is properly its own? Remember from now on, in everything that draws you toward grief, to apply this principle: not that this is a misfortune, but that bearing it nobly is good fortune.