On Patient Endurance of Hardship in Hope of Better Days

A generous man carries his worth within himself; if he has no gold, what has he really lost, what should he fear? Don't imagine that a mean man, even if he grows as rich as Croesus, will change his stingy nature. And if a generous man cannot find even bread, his nature is still rich all the same. Kindness is the soil, and giving is the seed: give, so the root is never left without its branches. A God who shapes people out of dust, it would be strange if He let humanity go to waste. Don't seek greatness in hoarding your wealth, for standing water turns foul and sour. Strive to give freely, for the flowing stream is fed by the rains that pour from the sky. If a mean man falls from rank and fortune, only rarely will he ever recover and stand straight again. But if you are a precious jewel, do not grieve, for time will never let you go to waste. A clod of dirt lying in the road, you never see anyone give it a second glance. But if a fleck of gold slips from between the teeth, people search for it again by candlelight. They cut clear glass out of raw stone; how could a mirror ever stay buried under rust? What matters is skill, learning, faith, and inner worth, for rank and riches come and go.