Seneca, Moral Letters 69.2

Just as he who tries to be rid of an old love must avoid every reminder of the person once held dear (for nothing grows again so easily as love), similarly, he who would lay aside his desire for all the things which he used to crave so passionately, must turn away both eyes and ears from the objects which he has abandoned. The emotions soon return to the attack; at every turn they will notice before their eyes an object worth their attention. 
 
There is no evil that does not offer inducements. Avarice promises money; luxury, a varied assortment of pleasures; ambition, a purple robe and applause, and the influence which results from applause, and all that influence can do. Vices tempt you by the rewards which they offer; but in the life of which I speak, you must live without being paid. 
 
Scarcely will a whole lifetime suffice to bring our vices into subjection and to make them accept the yoke, swollen as they are by long-continued indulgence; and still less, if we cut into our brief span by any interruptions. Even constant care and attention can scarcely bring anyone undertaking to full completion. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 69 
 
This section of the letter hits very close to home, since I made myself quite the expert on being consumed by unrequited love. To this day, I will still berate myself for avoiding the old neighborhood to keep her out of my thoughts, when I should really be grateful for the chance to avoid further temptation. No good will come from dwelling on past failures. 
 
Passions can be tricky things, for they speak to us so forcefully, even as they cannot do anything to explain themselves. To understand how and why I feel, and to provide any meaning to their movements, is the work of the mind, that defining power of my humanity which I too often leave neglected. In the absence of judgements to rein them in, the desires will run wild, and there is not a vice or a misery in this life that is not a consequence of lazy thinking. 
 
There is no shame to feeling with great intensity, yet there is nothing but slavery in feeling without understanding. Love fulfills, while lust destroys. I must only examine the impression to reveal its false promises, to recognize why the things that first present themselves as good are hardly good at all. 
 
Wealth is only as beneficial as the conscience that guides it. The value of a pleasure is relative to the merit of the action from which it proceeds. Fame is all about the opinions of others, and it says nothing about our own virtues. 
 
If the practice of self-mastery sounds like a work to occupy all of our years, that is precisely the point. There is no greater achievement than leaving this world with the head firmly in charge of the gut, through the medium of the heart. There is no time for being distracted by fake rewards, when the only reward that counts is a soul at peace with itself. 

—Reflection written in 8/2013 

IMAGE: Władysław Podkowiński, Frenzy of Exultations (1893)