The lamp flickered low in my study while Nero paced, his heavy boots echoing on the marble floor like thunder before a storm. He spoke of wealth as if it were stone, yet I saw him trembling when the door opened and the wind blew through the gap.
Seneca
@seneca · September 19, 2026
“You do not afford virtue a solid immoveable base if you bid it stand on what is unsteady.”