Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is a calm compass for a stormy life, asking what good we truly aim at and answering with eudaimonia, a flourishing happiness found in excellent activity. He treats virtue as a craft of the soul, learned through practice until choice becomes graceful. The golden mean steadies us between excess and deficiency, while practical wisdom guides judgment in real situations. Friendship appears as the warm fire where virtue ripens, pleasure as a companion not a captain, and politics as the larger household that nurtures character. At the summit waits contemplation, a clear sky of thought, though the path is walked in deeds.

Aristotle’s Metaphysics opens with a simple confession of love for knowing, then climbs toward the highest questions. What is it for something to be. What are the first causes that make the world intelligible. Moving from the delight of the senses to the calm reach of wisdom, Aristotle maps the ladder from memory and experience to art, science, and the search for first principles. He weighs matter and form, potentiality and actuality, substance and cause, and arrives at a prime actuality that stirs the heavens without itself moving. These selections offer a lantern for readers who want reality in its deepest keys rather than its passing notes.

The Gospel of Truth reads like a luminous homily from the Gnostic tradition, not a biography of Jesus but a meditation on the Savior who reveals the unknown Father and dissolves ignorance like mist in morning light. In rich metaphors of fullness and forgetfulness it portrays Error as a fog that blinds and the Word as a voice that calls each soul by its true name. Knowledge becomes healing and joy, a homecoming to the source. Mark M. Mattison’s lucid translation lets newcomers taste its serene urgency and poetic fire, inviting seekers to listen for the quiet revelation already within.

The Confessions is a soul speaking to God, part memoir, part prayer. Augustine traces his journey from youthful desires and borrowed philosophies to the quiet thunder of grace. In Carthage, Rome, and Milan he wrestles with ambition, Manichaean shadows, and a restless heart no lover or book could soothe. His mother Monica prays like a steady flame; Bishop Ambrose opens Scripture; a child’s voice says take and read. He confronts a stolen pear, the mystery of memory, and the vast river of time. The later books rise into meditation on creation and praise. For seekers, it offers candor, beauty, and a homeward path.