A Quote by Seneca the Younger

Haste trips up its own heels, fetters and stops itself. — © Seneca the Younger
Haste trips up its own heels, fetters and stops itself.
Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
But as there is a keeping back, and quietly waiting, and a keeping out of willing or running, and haste, the spirit arises purely and stilly in the heart, and gives perfect evidence and full testimony of itself; so that there needs to be no doubting nor questioning of its motion; for it shows forth itself with full assurance of its own will.
Fetters of gold are still fetters, and the softest lining can never make them so easy as liberty.
Golden fetters are no less galling to a self-respecting man that iron ones; the sting lies in the fetters, not in the metal.
True artistic renewal does not mean being stripped of fetters. It means moving into new fetters.
I grew up camping with my family. We took so many trips. We had an RV, actually, when we were growing up. We did a ton of camping trips and went across the country.
Fear sometimes adds wings to the heels, and sometimes nails them to the ground, and fetters them from moving.
Love is alone sufficient by itself, it pleases by itself and for it's own sake. It is itself a merit, and itself it's own recompense. It seeks neither cause, nor consequences beyond itself. It is its own fruit, its own object and usefulness. I love because I love you, I love that I may love.
People get really caught up in their own trips.
In meditation the mind stops, thought ceases. When thought stops, the world stops. When the world stops, perception stops. When perception stops, the sense of "I" as a perceiver falls away.
I was one of seven, and we took a lot of road trips - long road trips. And this was before iPhones and iPads and DVD players in cars. I remember how novel it was when I got my own Walkman so I could listen to music.
It must be that people who read go on more macrocosmic and microcosmic trips – biblical god trips, the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Ulysses, Finnegan’s Wake trips. Non-readers, what do they get? (They get the munchies.)
The bad stuff never stops happening: it lives in its own dimension, replaying itself over and over.
Falsehood avails itself of haste and uncertainty.
In general, I'm rubbish in heels. I love them, and I own a lot because it's like being in a sweet shop: they're pretty. But I'm not good in them. I don't walk nicely in heels.
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