You have learned nothing from Zeno and Chrysippus but what any peasant girl might learn from an honest father, to be true I mean and to love virtue.

Be content with that; I am more than satisfied." "Oh, Publius," exclaimed the girl, grasping her friend's hand.

"I understand you, and I know that you are right.

A woman must be miserable so long as she fancies herself strong, and imagines and feels that she needs no other support than her own firm will and determination, no other counsel than some wise doctrines which she accepts and adheres to.
Before I could call you mine, and went on my own way, proud of my own virtue, I was--I cannot bear to think of it--but half a soul, and took it for a whole; but now--if now fate were to snatch you from me, I should still know where to seek the support on which I might lean in need and despair.

Not in the Stoa, not in herself can a woman find such a stay, but in pious dependence on the help of the gods." "I am a man," interrupted Publius, "and yet I sacrifice to them and yield ready obedience to their decrees." "But," cried Klea, "I saw yesterday in the temple of Serapis the meanest things done by his ministers, and it pained me and disgusted me, and I lost my hold on the divinity; but the extremest anguish and deepest love have led me to find it again.