She remembered- every day- how it felt after the first inhale, just as the nicotine was hitting her bloodstream. To pull with your lips on that filter and feel the smoke drift across your tongue, down your throat, and directly into your lungs was to be transported momentarily to nirvana. That was all well and good, but there was nothing quite like actually smoking it: Leigh loved inhaling. They claimed they loved the lighting, the ashing, the feeling of being able to hold something between their fingers. “Smokers always waxed poetic about the ritual of it, how a large part of the satisfaction was packing the box and pulling the foil wrapper and plucking an aromatic stick. ― Boethius, quote from The Consolation of Philosophy 'For you,' she said, 'I will do so gladly.” I begged her to lead on and show me the nature of true happiness without delay. 'Your mind dreams of it,' she said, 'but your sight is clouded by shadows of happiness and cannot see reality.' I asked what it was and she told me that it was true happiness. You would be more than eager to hear if you knew the destination I am trying to bring you to.' The remedies still to come are, in fact, of such a kind that they taste bitter to the tongue, but grow sweet once they are absorbed.īut you say you are eager to hear more.
'Once you began to hang onto my words in silent attention, I was expecting you to adopt this attitude, or rather, to be more exact, I myself created it in you. The thought of them no longer makes me shudder in fact I'm so eager to hear more, I fervently beg you for them.' You were talking of cures that were rather sharp.
By the weight of your tenets and the delightfulness of your singing you have so refreshed me that I now think myself capable of facing the blows of Fortune. “You are the greatest comfort for exhausted spirits.
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