When the tree of my existence shall be cut down, when
my members shall be dispersed, let them make pitchers
of my dust and fill these pitchers with wine; then shall
my dust be revived [through the wine contained in
them].
O Thou, God, before whom sin is without consequence,
tell him who possesses intelligence to proclaim this important
point: that in the eyes of a philosopher it is an
absolute absurdity to make divine fore-knowledge in league
with sin.
In the first place, my being was given me without my
consent, which makes my own existence a lasting problem
to me. Then, we leave this world with regret, and without
having accomplished the aim of our coming, of our
stay, or our departure.
When my sins come back to mind, the fire which then
burned in my heart makes my boldness stream forth;
for everywhere is it established that when a slave repents,
a generous master pardons him.
These potters who constantly plunge their fingers into
the clay, who employ all their mind, all their intelligence,
all their faculties to mould it, even to the crushing of
it with their feet and striking with their hands, of what
think they? It is the same clay as the human body that
they are treating thus.