Who is it that does not voluntarily exchange his health, his repose, and his very life for reputation and glory, the most useless, frivolous, and false coin that passes current amongst us?
Our own death does not sufficiently terrify and trouble us; let us, moreover, charge ourselves with those of our wives, children, and family: our own affairs do not afford us anxiety enough; let us undertake those of our neighbours and friends, still more to break our brains and torment us: "Vah! quemquamne hominem in animum instituere, aut Parare, quod sit carius, quam ipse est sibi ?" ["Ah! can any man conceive in his mind or realise what is dearer than he is to himself ?"--Terence, Adelph., i.

I, 13.] Solitude seems to me to wear the best favour in such as have already employed their most active and flourishing age in the world's service, after the example of Thales.

We have lived enough for others; let us at least live out the small remnant of life for ourselves; let us now call in our thoughts and intentions to ourselves, and to our own ease and repose.

'Tis no light thing to make a sure retreat; it will be enough for us to do without mixing other enterprises.

Since God gives us leisure to order our removal, let us make ready, truss our baggage, take leave betimes of the company, and disentangle ourselves from those violent importunities that engage us elsewhere and separate us from ourselves.
We must break the knot of our obligations, how strong soever, and hereafter love this or that, but espouse nothing but ourselves: that is to say, let the remainder be our own, but not so joined and so close as not to be forced away without flaying us or tearing out part of our whole.