Which Epictetus Quotes Best Teach Resilience?

Flipping through 'Enchiridion' always feels like discovering a pocket-sized toolkit for getting through a rough day. Epictetus hands out lines that double as life-cleanup instructions, and some keep looping in my head whenever something goes sideways. A few of the most famous ones that I keep returning to are: 'Men are disturbed not by things, but by the views which they take of them,' 'Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens,' and 'It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.' Those three form a kind of backbone for Stoic practice — control your judgments, focus on action, and accept what you can't change. Another cluster of lines I quote when I'm trying to be braver: 'If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid,' and 'First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.' There’s also that theatrical image: 'Remember that you are an actor in a drama of such sort as the author pleases to make it.' I like it because it makes responsibility feel like a role I can play rather than a burden I must carry alone. I often pair these sayings with small, daily rituals — a short walk, writing three tiny tasks, or letting one irritation pass without comment. The quotes are short, but they spark routines that stick. If you’re dipping into 'Enchiridion' for the first time, start by noting one line that lands and try living by it for a week; you’ll be surprised how loud these old phrases can get when they start changing choices I make.

I get asked this a lot when people are trying to track down a favorite Epictetus line, and my go-to explanation is simple: Epictetus's sayings are sprinkled all through the four books of Arrian’s notes we call 'Discourses', and many of the short punchy lines people quote are also collected in the little handbook 'Enchiridion', which was compiled from those same talks. If you want to be precise, the best approach is to look up the phrase in a searchable translation of 'Discourses' (or in 'Enchiridion') — translations differ in wording, so the exact phrasing you remember might show up in one place in one translator’s version and somewhere else in another. Arrian recorded Epictetus’s conversations as four books of 'Discourses', so any well-known Epictetus quote likely has a place in those books, often repeated in the 'Enchiridion' as a concise formulation. Personally, I like reading a line in 'Enchiridion' first to get the distilled idea, then hunting it down in 'Discourses' to enjoy the fuller context and the back-and-forth that surrounds it. That deeper context often changes how I interpret the quote, which is half the fun.

Flipping through 'Handbook' feels like finding a pocket-sized coach who speaks plain sense. One of the lines that always sticks with me is: "Some things are up to us, and some things are not up to us." It sounds simple, but when I catch myself worrying about traffic, other people's moods, or the stock market, that sentence cuts through the noise. Another bite-sized gem I keep in my head is: "Don't demand that things happen as you wish, but wish that they happen as they do." That little reframe has saved more coffee-fueled panic sessions than I can count. I also lean on: "Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens," and the tougher, humbling one: "If you wish to be a writer, write; if you wish to be a brave person, face hardships." Epictetus nudges you toward action and acceptance simultaneously. I often pair these lines with a sticky note on my monitor—practical, blunt, oddly comforting. If you like, try reading a few pages aloud; the cadence makes the advice feel like dialogue rather than a lecture, and it seeps into how you react to small annoyances.

My apartment is full of sticky notes—tiny philosophy anchors—and Epictetus lines are the ones that stuck the fastest. Short, punchy, and practical is the sweet spot for memorization. Lines like "It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters," "Some things are up to us and some are not," and "Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants" are compact and emotionally resonant, so they lodge in my head after a few repeats. I usually pick one for the morning and one for the evening. I put one on my mirror, one as my phone lock screen, and whisper them while making coffee. Repeating a phrase aloud while doing a simple task turns the quote into a habit. If you want a starter set: try "Control what you can," "Desire nothing excessive," and "First say to yourself what you would be; then do what you have to do." Those are short, image-friendly, and easy to tuck into daily life, which is honestly the best trick for remembering anything.

Late-night scrolling led me to an Epictetus quote that felt like a lamp in a fog: 'It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.' That line kept popping up in my notes and then in conversations with friends who were navigating breakups, layoffs, and parenting meltdowns. I started using those lines like little scripts—teaching someone to pause and name what they can control felt less preachy and more human. Over months I noticed a pattern: the quotes sit at the crossroads of philosophy and therapy. Cognitive-behavioral techniques repackage Stoic ideas into practical tools. When I coach someone through an anxious spiral, I lean on the 'some things are up to us, some things are not' distinction (from 'Enchiridion') to help them map controllable actions. That one tweak—separating events from responses—turns rumination into a task list. On a personal note, I keep a sticky note with a short Epictetus line by my desk. It doesn't fix everything, but it reroutes my attention, and that's often the beginning of change.

I still get a little thrill when Epictetus lands a line that feels like a warm slap — in the best way. One quote that always calms my impulse to snap is 'People are not disturbed by things, but by the views they take of them.' It’s almost a checklist for that moment when heat rises: notice the impression, don’t immediately agree with it, and give yourself a beat. Practically, I take three deep breaths and ask what story I’m telling myself about the other person. Another one I go back to when I’m stung is 'When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger.' It’s deliciously subversive: instead of fueling rage, you look inward, find your own blind spots, and the insult shrinks. Over time this habit turned lots of flash anger into curiosity — why did that trigger me? — and that curiosity did more for my relationships than any perfectly timed retort ever could.

Some Epictetus lines turned into little sticky notes for my brain when finals roll around — they’re weirdly practical and calm at the same time. One that I lean on is 'Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.' To me this translates to: plan the tonight/this-week tasks that you actually control (reading, practice problems, sleep) and stop spiraling over grades or curve anxieties. I write a tiny to-do list with only 3 things and treat the list like a contract. Another favorite is 'First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.' It nudges me from daydreaming straight into action. Instead of obsessing over an ideal 'straight-A me', I picture the next small behavior — open the textbook, do one page, set a 25-minute timer. Over time those tiny choices build momentum. If you're juggling distractions like notifications or roommates, these lines become a steady voice reminding you that productivity is less about magic and more about choosing controllables. Tonight I'll use them to resist doom-scrolling and actually finish that problem set, and I swear it feels better than caffeine.

When I started leading small teams, I used to panic when things went off-script; Epictetus slowly rewired that habit for me. I keep a few lines from 'Enchiridion' pinned above my desk—things like the dichotomy of control—and they’re more than mottos. They shape how I structure meetings, assign responsibility, and set expectations. Instead of reacting to every upset, I train myself to separate what’s within my influence from what isn’t, which makes my feedback clearer and less emotional. Over time that clarity turned into a calmer culture. People pick up on steady leadership: they take risks when they know mistakes won’t be weaponized and they see struggle as learning. I also use short quotes from 'Discourses' during one-on-ones to nudge reflection—asking, “What’s in your control here?” forces actionable thinking. It’s practical: fewer drama explosions, faster pivots, and a work rhythm that rewards ownership. If you’re trying to be the kind of leader people trust, start by practicing the small mental shifts Epictetus recommends and watch language and behavior follow that lead.