John Climacus

Let us monks, then, be as trustful as the birds are; for they do not have cares, and they do not collect.

He who has tasted the things on high easily despises what is below. But he who has not tasted the things above finds joy in possessions.

A monk is one who is conditioned by virtues as others are by pleasures.

The soul has dispassion who is immersed in the virtues as the passionate are in pleasures.

But he who has an attachment to anything visible is not yet delivered from grief. For how is it possible not to be sad at the loss of something we love?

If anyone thinks he is without attachment to some object, but is grieved at its loss, then he is completely deceiving himself.

Those who are thoroughly versed in secular philosophy are indeed rare; but I affirm that those who have a divine knowledge of the philosophy of true solitude are still more rare.

A proud monk has no need of a devil; he has become a devil and enemy to himself.

He who has died to all things remembers death, but who ever is still tied to the world does not cease plotting against himself.

As of all foods bread is the most essential, so the thought of death is the most necessary of all works. The remembrance of death amongst those in the midst of society gives birth to distress and frivolity, and even more—to despondency. But amongst those who are free from noise it produces the putting aside of cares, and constant prayer and guarding of the mind.

The monk is he who within his earthly and soiled body toils towards the rank and state of the incorporeal beings. A monk is he who strictly controls his nature and unceasingly watches over his senses. A monk is he who keeps his body in chastity, his mouth pure and his mind illumined. A monk is a mourning soul that both asleep and awake is unceasingly occupied with the remembrance of death.

The beginning of freedom from anger is silence of the lips when the heart is agitated; the middle is silence of the thoughts when there is a mere disturbance of soul; and the end is an imperturbable calm under the breath of unclean winds.

Those who enter this contest must renounce all things, despise all things, deride all things, and shake  off all things, that they may lay a firm foundation. A good foundation of three layers and three pillars is innocence, fasting and temperance.

He who cherishes his stomach and hopes to overcome the spirit of fornication, is like one who tries to put out a fire with oil.

Let us pay close attention to ourselves so that we are not deceived into thinking that we are following the strait and narrow way when in actual fact we are keeping to the wide and broad way. The following will show you what the narrow way means: mortification of the stomach, all-night standing, water in moderation, short rations of bread, the purifying draught of dishonour, sneers, derision, insults, the cutting out of one’s own will, patience in annoyances, unmurmuring endurance of scorn, disregard of insults, and the habit, when wronged, of bearing it sturdily; when slandered, of not being indignant; when humiliated, not to be angry; when condemned, to be humble. Blessed are they who follow the way we have just described, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Self-esteem without any other passion can ruin a man, and in the same way, if we have formed the habit of judging, we can be utterly ruined by this alone, for indeed the Pharisee was condemned for this very thing.

Let no one with right principles suppose that the sin of lying is a
small matter, for the All-Holy Spirit pronounced the most awful sentence of all against it above all sins.
If you have promised Christ to go by the strait and narrow way, restrain your stomach, because by pleasing it and enlarging it, you break your contract. Attend and you will hear Him who says: ‘Spacious and broad is the way of gluttony that leads to the perdition of fornication, and many there are who go in by it; because narrow is the gate and hard is the way of fasting that leads to the life of purity, and few there are who go in by it.”

A vigilant monk is a foe to fornication but a sleepy one mates with it.

A monk who denies himself sleep is a fisher of thoughts, and in the stillness of the night he can easily observe and catch them.

Long sleep produces forgetfulness, but vigil purifies the memory.

The devil often has the habit, especially in warring against ascetics and those leading the solitary life, of using all his force, all his zeal, all his cunning, all his intrigue, all his ingenuity and purpose, to assail them by means of what is unnatural, and not by what is natural. Therefore, ascetics coming into contact with women, and not in any way tempted either by desire or thought, have sometimes regarded themselves as already blessed, not knowing, poor things, that where a worse downfall had been prepared for them, there was no need of the lesser one.

The mother of sweetness is earth and dew, and the mother of purity is silence with obedience. Dispassion of the body attained by silence, has often been shaken on coming into contact with the world; but that obtained by obedience isgenuine and inviolable everywhere.

A fish swiftly escapes a hook; and a sensual soul shuns solitude.

Meekness is an unchangeable state of mind, which remains the same inhonour and dishonour.

In meek hearts the Lord finds rest, but a turbulent soul is a seat of the devil.

A small hair disturbs the eye, and a small care ruins solitude; because solitude is the banishment of thoughts and ideas, and the rejection of even laudable cares.