Lo­rem ip­sum do­lor sit amet, con­sec­te­tur adi­pis­cing elit, sed do ei­us­mod tem­por in­ci­di­dunt ut la­bo­re et do­lo­re mag­na ali­qua. Ut enim ad mi­nim ve­ni­am, quis nost­rud exer­ci­ta­ti­on ul­lam­co la­bo­ris nisi ut ali­quip ex ea com­mo­do con­se­qu­at. Duis au­te iru­re do­lor in rep­re­hen­de­rit in vo­lup­ta­te ve­lit es­se cil­lum do­lo­re eu fu­gi­at nul­la pa­ri­a­tur. Ex­cep­teur sint oc­ca­e­cat cu­pi­da­tat non proi­dent, sunt in cul­pa qui of­fi­cia de­se­runt mol­lit anim id est la­bo­rum.

Sec­ti­on 1.10.32 of "de Fi­ni­bus Bo­no­rum et Ma­lo­rum", writ­ten by Ci­ce­ro in 45 BC

"Sed ut pers­pi­ci­a­tis un­de om­nis is­te na­tus er­ror sit vo­lup­ta­tem ac­cu­san­tium do­lo­rem­que lau­dan­tium, to­tam rem ape­ri­am, ea­que ip­sa quae ab il­lo in­ven­to­re ve­ri­ta­tis et qu­a­si arc­hi­tec­to be­a­tae vi­tae dic­ta sunt exp­li­ca­bo. Nemo enim ip­sam vo­lup­ta­tem quia vo­lup­tas sit as­per­na­tur aut odit aut fu­git, sed quia con­se­quun­tur mag­ni do­lo­res eos qui ra­ti­o­ne vo­lup­ta­tem se­qui nes­ciunt. Ne­que por­ro quis­qu­am est, qui do­lo­rem ip­sum quia do­lor sit amet, con­sec­te­tur, adi­pis­ci ve­lit, sed quia non num­qu­am ei­us modi tem­po­ra in­ci­dunt ut la­bo­re et do­lo­re mag­nam ali­qu­am qu­ae­rat vo­lup­ta­tem. Ut enim ad mi­ni­ma ve­ni­am, quis nost­rum exer­ci­ta­ti­o­nem ul­lam cor­po­ris sus­ci­pit la­bo­ri­o­sam, nisi ut ali­quid ex ea com­mo­di con­se­qu­a­tur? Quis au­tem vel eum iu­re rep­re­hen­de­rit qui in ea vo­lup­ta­te ve­lit es­se quam ni­hil mo­les­ti­ae con­se­qu­a­tur, vel il­lum qui do­lo­rem eum fu­gi­at quo vo­lup­tas nul­la pa­ri­a­tur?"

1914 trans­la­ti­on by H. Rack­ham

"But I must exp­lain to you how all this mis­ta­ken idea of de­noun­cing ple­a­su­re and prai­sing pain was born and I will give you a comp­le­te ac­count of the sys­tem, and ex­pound the ac­tu­al te­ac­hings of the great exp­lo­rer of the truth, the mas­ter-buil­der of hu­man hap­pi­ness. No one re­jects, dis­li­kes, or avoids ple­a­su­re it­self, be­cau­se it is ple­a­su­re, but be­cau­se those who do not know how to pur­sue ple­a­su­re ra­ti­o­nal­ly en­coun­ter con­se­qu­en­ces that are ext­re­me­ly pain­ful. Nor again is there any­o­ne who lo­ves or pur­su­es or de­si­res to ob­tain pain of it­self, be­cau­se it is pain, but be­cau­se oc­ca­si­o­nal­ly cir­cums­tan­ces oc­cur in which toil and pain can pro­cu­re him some great ple­a­su­re. To take a tri­vi­al examp­le, which of us ever un­der­ta­kes la­bo­ri­ous phy­si­cal exer­ci­se, ex­cept to ob­tain some ad­van­ta­ge from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who choo­ses to en­joy a ple­a­su­re that has no an­no­ying con­se­qu­en­ces, or one who avoids a pain that pro­du­ces no re­sul­tant ple­a­su­re?"

Sec­ti­on 1.10.33 of "de Fi­ni­bus Bo­no­rum et Ma­lo­rum", writ­ten by Ci­ce­ro in 45 BC

"At vero eos et ac­cu­sa­mus et ius­to odio dig­nis­si­mos du­ci­mus qui blan­di­tiis pra­e­sen­tium vo­lup­ta­tum de­le­ni­ti at­que cor­rup­ti quos do­lo­res et quas mo­les­ti­as ex­cep­tu­ri sint oc­ca­e­ca­ti cu­pi­di­ta­te non pro­vi­dent, si­mi­li­que sunt in cul­pa qui of­fi­cia de­se­runt mol­li­tia ani­mi, id est la­bo­rum et do­lo­rum fuga. Et ha­rum qui­dem re­rum fa­ci­lis est et ex­pe­di­ta dis­tinc­tio. Nam li­be­ro tem­po­re, cum so­lu­ta no­bis est eli­gen­di op­tio cum­que ni­hil im­pe­dit quo mi­nus id quod ma­xi­me pla­ce­at fa­ce­re pos­si­mus, om­nis vo­lup­tas as­su­men­da est, om­nis do­lor re­pel­len­dus. Tem­po­ri­bus au­tem qui­bus­dam et aut of­fi­ciis de­bi­tis aut re­rum ne­ces­si­ta­ti­bus sa­e­pe eve­niet ut et vo­lup­ta­tes re­pu­di­an­dae sint et mo­les­ti­ae non re­cu­san­dae. Ita­que ea­rum re­rum hic te­ne­tur a sa­pien­te de­lec­tus, ut aut rei­cien­dis vo­lup­ta­ti­bus mai­o­res ali­as con­se­qu­a­tur aut per­fe­ren­dis do­lo­ri­bus as­pe­ri­o­res re­pel­lat."

1914 trans­la­ti­on by H. Rack­ham

"On the ot­her hand, we de­noun­ce with righ­te­ous in­dig­na­ti­on and dis­li­ke men who are so be­gui­led and de­mo­ra­li­zed by the charms of ple­a­su­re of the mo­ment, so blin­ded by de­si­re, that they can­not fo­re­see the pain and troub­le that are bound to en­sue; and equ­al blame be­longs to those who fail in their duty through we­ak­ness of will, which is the same as sa­ying through shrin­king from toil and pain. These ca­ses are per­fect­ly simp­le and ea­sy to dis­tin­guish. In a free hour, when our po­wer of choi­ce is unt­ram­mel­led and when not­hing pre­vents our being ab­le to do what we like best, eve­ry ple­a­su­re is to be wel­co­med and eve­ry pain avoi­ded. But in cer­tain cir­cums­tan­ces and owing to the claims of duty or the ob­li­ga­ti­ons of bu­si­ness it will fre­qu­ent­ly oc­cur that ple­a­su­res have to be re­pu­di­a­ted and an­no­yan­ces ac­cep­ted. The wise man the­re­fo­re al­wa­ys holds in these mat­ters to this prin­cip­le of se­lec­ti­on: he re­jects ple­a­su­res to se­cu­re ot­her gre­a­ter ple­a­su­res, or el­se he en­du­res pains to avoid wor­se pains."