Epictetus wrote that it is like
wishing for a fig in winter this
longing and aching for a de-
ceased loved one. After he
read that, he thought how
much it reminded him of
Buddhism and Taoism. He
wished he had gotten more
of that in his Christian up-
bringing. It would have saved
him so much heartache about
that over which he had ab-
solutely no control. He looked
at the skin on his forearms
thinking “perishable — use in
due season.”

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