All I ask the gods to grant me is that I ask them for nothing. Good luck is a yoke and to be happy oppresses, for it's an emotional state. I want to rais my not easy nor uneasy, purly calm being above the plane where men rejoice or grieve...

You're alone.
No one knows it.
Hush and feign.
But feign without feigning.
Hope for nothing that's not already you.
Each man in himself is everything.
You have sun if there's sun,
    trees if you seek them,
    fortune if fortune is yours.