Lucretius, 200 years after the death of Epicurus and the fellow inhabitants of his garden: When the winds are troubling the waters on a mighty sea it is sweet to view from the land the great struggles of another man; not because it is pleasant or delightful that anyone should be distressed, but because it is sweet to see the misfortunes from which you are yourself free. It is sweet too to watch great battles which cover the plains if you yourself have no share in the danger. But nothing is more pleasing than to be master of those tranquil places which have been strongly fortified aloft by the teaching of wise men. From there you can look down upon other men and see them wandering purposelessly and straying as they search for a way of life—competing with their abilities, trying to outdo one another in social status, striving night and day with the utmost effort to rise to the heights of wealth and become masters of everything. Unhappy minds of men, blind hearts! How great the darkness, and how great the dangers in which this little life is spent. Do you not see that nature shouts out for nothing but the removal of pain from the body and the enjoyment in mind of the sense of joy when anxiety and fear have been taken away? Therefore we see that for the body few things only are needed, which are sufficient to remove pain and can also provide many delights. Nor does nature itself seek for anything more pleasing, if there are no golden statues of youths in the entrance halls holding in their right hands fiery torches so that evening banquets may be provided with light, or if the house does not gleam with silver and shine with gold and a carved and gilded ceiling does not resound to the lute, when, in spite of this, men lie on the soft grass together near a stream of water beneath the branches of a lofty tree refreshing their bodies with joy and at no great cost, particularly when the weather smiles and the time of year spreads flowers all over the green grass. Anthony Gottlieb, The Dream of Reason: A History of Western Philosophy from the Greeks to the Renaissance, loc. 5124. Kindle Edition