Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas

It was while reading Slaughterhouse-Five that I first encountered these words, which are framed in Billy’s optometry office on Earth and also inscribed in a locket worn by Montana: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.

He took a grim and ironic pleasure from the possibility that what little learning he had managed to acquire had led him to this knowledge: that in the long run all things, even the learning that let him know this, were futile and empty, and at last diminished into a nothingness they did not alter.

The Stoics can teach you how to find a sense of purpose in life, how to face adversity, how to conquer anger within yourself, moderate your desires, experience healthy sources of joy, endure pain and illness patiently and with dignity, exhibit courage in the face of your anxieties, cope with loss, and perhaps even confront your own mortality while

“Yes, getting your wish would have been so nice. But isn’t that exactly why pleasure trips us up? Instead, see if these things might be even nicer—a great soul, freedom, honesty, kindness, saintliness. For there is nothing so pleasing as wisdom itself, when you consider how sure-footed and effortless the works of understanding and knowledge are.” —

It might surprise you that in Greece, during the time of Aristotle more than 2,000 years ago, work was simply considered a necessary evil. The prime aim of life according to philosophers was “Eudaimonia,” which translates literally as “happiness,” but is better expressed as “flourishing.” In Aristotle’s words, “the more contemplation, the more happ