 Why do you pretend to know such profound things you, impulsive youth? To what end do you pretend to know these things, you trembling old age? Thus I want to show above all else that the long-haired star cannot predict anything. And even if it could predict, it would not provide any knowledge. It serves no purpose. So why want what is useless? (CC: 143: 1–2; 146: 25–27, my translation) 