There are things that depend upon us, and other things that do not depend upon us. Things that depend upon us are opinion, inclination, desire, aversion—in a word, all that is our own doing. Things that do not depend upon us are the body, wealth, reputation, honors—in a word, all that is not our own doing. The things that depend upon us are by nature free, and nothing can constrain or hinder them. The things that do not depend upon us are weak, servile, liable to be hindered, and they belong to others. Remember, then, that if you take for your good what depends upon others, you will find yourself hindered, troubled, carried here and there, and you will seek your happiness among men, that is, among those who are above you. But if you take for your evil what alone is your evil, and for your good what alone is your good, no one will ever be able to constrain or hinder you; you will find no one to reproach, you will accuse no one, you will do nothing against your will, and no one will harm you; in the end you will never seek revenge. Not only will you never find yourself constrained or hindered, but you will find no one to blame. Moreover, in aspiring to things so great, remember not to reach for them with immoderate impatience, but to leave behind the things that do not depend upon you, while preparing yourself for them in advance, above all when they touch upon what is dearest. Suppose you wish to play at dice: you must consider what depends upon you, what depends upon chance, and what is useful or harmful. What is useful is to play in view of victory; but what depends upon chance is victory itself. You must therefore aim at playing well, not at winning; and you must leave the game with cheerfulness, not with sadness. As for what touches us most dearly—a child, a wife, a friend—remember that these are things that do not depend upon us, but are lent to us as things foreign to us, by a loan that we must know how to repay without murmuring, when the one who entrusted them to us asks for them back. The work of philosophers is to bring to good condition what depends upon us—that is, to make our opinions sound and our desires well ordered. Men are not disturbed by things, but by the opinions they hold about things. Death itself has nothing dreadful about it, except what we think of it; and thus it was with Socrates, whose misfortune lay in the opinion of the judges who condemned him. Therefore, when you are hindered, distressed, or troubled, never accuse anyone but yourself—that is to say, your own opinions. You will see death avoided by those who can avoid it; but those who cannot would still wish to avoid it if you gave them time. So what we fear in death is not death itself, but the opinion we have of death. The evil is not the thing, but our judgment about the thing. Appearances do not disturb us if we examine them with attention. All trouble comes from our failure to observe within ourselves. Thus, when a father or a member of your family dies, do not merely say that he has died, for you would say only what is true; but say: I bear the mourning of one who has died, and I grieve for him. When you grieve thus, remember that your sorrow comes not from the event itself, but from your own opinion about it. Do not seek that things should happen as you wish, but wish that things should happen as they do happen, and your life will flow happily. What troubles men is not things, but the judgments they form about things. So when we are unhappy or troubled, let us never attribute the evil to another, but to ourselves—that is, to our own judgments. It is a shame for a man who has not yet fallen to be blamed, envied, or praised; and it is a great injustice to do good to others in the hope of being repaid. Misfortune comes from this: that we seek good and avoid evil in places where they are not; or at least, if we seek good among things that do not depend upon us, we meet with the opposite of what we seek, and with what is in itself the true evil: pain, trouble, and displeasure.