Thou must use thyself to think only of such things, of which if a man upon a sudden should ask thee, what it is that thou art now thinking, thou mayest answer This, and That, freely and boldly, that so by thy thoughts it may presently appear that in all thee is sincere, and peaceable; as becometh one that is made for society, and regards not pleasures, nor gives way to any voluptuous imaginations at all: free from all contentiousness, envy, and suspicion, and from whatsoever else thou wouldst blush to confess thy thoughts were set upon.
[tr. Casaubon (1634)]

Let it be your way to think upon nothing, but what you could freely Discover, if the Question was put to you : So that if your Soul was thus laid open, there would nothing appear, but what was Sincere, Good-natur'd, and publick Spirited; not so much as one Libertine, or Luxurious Fancy, nothing of Litigiousness, Envy, or unreasonable Suspicion, or any thing else, which would not bear the Light, without Blushing.
[tr. Collier (1701)]

We ought, therefore, to [...] enure ourselves to think on such things, as, if we were of a sudden examined, what are we now musing upon, we could freely answer, such or such matters: so that all within might appear simple and goodnatured, such as becomes a social being, who despises pleasure, and all sensual enjoyment, and is free from emulation, envy, suspicion, or any other passion that we would blush to own we were now indulging in our minds.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

Indeed you should regulate your thoughts in such a manner, that if any one should ask you, on a sudden, what is the subject of them, you may answer him without embarrassment; so that they may evidently appear to be all simplicity and benevolence, and such as become a being born for society; free from every idea of sensuality or lasciviousness; from rancour, envy, or suspicion; or from any other sentiment, which, if you were to confess it, would occasion a blush.
[tr. Graves (1792)]

A man should use himself to think of those things only about which if one should suddenly ask, What hast thou now in thy thoughts? with perfect openness thou mightest immediately answer, This or That; so that from thy words it should be plain that everything in thee is simple and benevolent, and such as befits a social animal, and one that cares not for thoughts about pleasure or sensual enjoyments at all, nor has any rivalry or envy and suspicion, or anything else for which thou wouldst blush if thou shouldst say that thou hadst it in thy mind.
[tr. Long (1862)]

[A man] ought, therefore, not to work his mind to no purpose, nor throw a superfluous link into the chain of thought; and more especially, to avoid curiosity and malice in his inquiry. Accustom yourself, therefore, tot hink up on nothing but what you could freely reveal, if the question were put to you; so that if your soul were thus laid open, there would nothing appear but what was sincere, good-natured, and public-spirited -- not so much as one voluptuous or luxurious fancy, nothing of hatred, envy, or unreasonable suspicion, nor aught else which you could not bring to the light without blushing.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]

Limit yourself habitually to such regards, that if suddenly asked 'What is in your thoughts now?,' you could tell at once the candid and unhesitating truth -- a direct plain proof, that all your thoughts were simple and in charity, such as befit a social being, who eschews voluptuous or even self-indulgent fancies, or jealousy of any kind, or malice and suspicion, or any other mood which you would blush to own.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

Accustom yourself so, and only so, to think, that, if any one were suddenly to ask you, “Of what are you thinking-now?” you could answer frankly and at once, “Of so and so.” Then it will plainly appear that you are all simplicity and kindliness, as befits a social being who takes little thought for enjoyment or any phantom pleasure; who spurns contentiousness, envy, or suspicion; or any passion the harbouring of which one would blush to own.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

A man should accustom himself to think only of those things about which, if one were to ask on a sudden, What now in thy thoughts? thou couldst quite frankly answer at once, This or that; so that thine answer should immediately make manifest that all that is in thee is simple and kindly and worthy of a living being that is social and has no thought for pleasures or for the entire range of sensual images, or for any rivalry, envy, suspicion, or anything else, whereat thou wouldst blush to admit that thou hadst it in thy mind.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

You must habituate yourself only to thoughts about which if some one were suddenly to ask: 'What is in your mind now?', you would at once reply, quite frankly, this or that; and so from the answer it would immediately be plain that all was simplicity and kindness, the thoughts of a social being, who disregards pleasurable, or to speak more generally luxurious imaginings or rivalry of any kind, or envy and suspicion or anything else about which you would blush to put into words that you had it in your head.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

A man should habituate himself to such a way of thinking that if suddenly asked, "What is in your mind at this minute?" he could respond frankly and without hesitation; thus proving that all his thoughts were simple and kindly, as becomes a social being with no taste for the pleasures of sensual imaginings, jealousies, envies, suspicions, or any other sentiments that he would blush to acknowledge in himself.
[tr. Staniforth (1964)]

You must train yourself only to think such thoughts that if somebody were suddenly to ask you, "What are you thinking of?" you could reply in all honesty and without hesitation of this or that, and so make it clear at once from your reply that all within you is simple and kindly, and worthy of a social being who has no thought for pleasure, or luxury in general, or contentiousness of any kind, or envy, or suspicion, or anything else that you would blush to admit if you had it in your mind.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]

Train yourself to think only those thoughts such that in answer to the sudden question ‘What is in your mind now?’ you could say with immediate frankness whatever it is, this or that: and so your answer can give direct evidence that all your thoughts are straightforward and kindly, the thoughts of a social being who has no regard for the fancies of pleasure or wider indulgence, for rivalry, malice, suspicion, or anything else that one would blush to admit was in one’s mind.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

You should accustom yourself to think only of those things which, if someone were suddenly to ask "What are you thinking?" you could openly answer this or that, so as to reveal straightaway that everything within yourself is straightforward and well disposed, appropriate to a communal being, and without care for base pleasures or even a single one of the delights we take in our experiences, or for any rivalry, slander, suspicion, or anything else which you would blush to answer that you had in your mind.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

You must train yourself only to think such thoughts that if somebody were suddenly to ask you, ‘What are you thinking of?’ you could reply in all honesty and without hesitation, of this thing or that, and so make it clear at once from your reply that all within you is simple and benevolent, and worthy of a social being who has no thought for pleasure, or luxury in general, or contentiousness of any kind, or envy, or suspicion, or anything else that you would blush to admit if you had it in your mind.
[tr. Hard (2011 ed.)]

You must train yourself only to think the kind of thoughts about which, if someone suddenly asked you, "what are you thinking now?" you would at once answer frankly, "this" or "that." So, from your reply it would immediately be clear that all your thoughts are straightforward and kind and express the character of a social being who has no concern with images of pleasure, or self-indulgence in general, or any kind of rivalry, malice, or suspicion, or anything else you would blush to admit you were thinking about.
[tr. Gill (2013)]

So is it of minds, which except they be busied about some subject, that may bridle and keepe them under, they will here and there wildely scatter themselves through the vaste field of imaginations. And there is no follie, or extravagant raving, they produce not in that agitation.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

So it is with Wits, which if not applyed to some certain Study that may fix and restrain them, run into a thousand Extravagancies, and are eternally roving here and there in the inextricable Labyrinth of restless Imagination. In which wild and irregular Agitation, there is no Folly, nor idle Fancy they do not light upon.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

So it is with our minds, which, if not applied to some particular subject to check and restrain them, rove about confusedly in the vague expanse of imagination. In which agitation there is no folly nor idle fancy which they do not create.
[tr. Friswell (1868)]

So it is with minds, which if not applied to some certain study that may fix and restrain them, run into a thousand extravagances, eternally roving here and there in the vague expanse of the imagination -- in which wild agitation there is no folly, nor idle fancy they do not light upon.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

So it is with our minds. If we do not apply them to some sort of study that will fix and restrain them, they will drift into a thousand extravagances, and will sternly run here and there in an inextricable labyrinth of restless imagination. In this wild and irregular agitation there is no folly nor idle fancy they do not touch upon.
[tr. Rector (1899)]

So it is with our minds: if we do not keep them occupied with a distinct subject, which curbs and restrains them, they run aimlessly to and fro, in the undefined field of imagination. And there is no folly or fantasy to which they do not give birth in this agitation.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

So it is with minds. Unless you keep them busy with some definite subject that will bridle and control them, they throw themselves in disorder hither and yon in the vague field of imagination. And there is no mad or idle fancy that they do not bring forth in this agitation.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

So it is with our minds. If we do not occupy them with some definite subject which curbs and restrains them, they rush wildly to and fro in the ill-defined field of the imagination. And there is no folly or fantasy that they will not produce in this restless state.
[tr. Cohen (1958)]

If [minds] have no object to busy themselves with, something to check and restrain them, they will run free and ramble through the open field of their imagination. And in this state of excitement, minds will come up with all kinds of foolishness and fantasies.
[tr. HyperEssays (2025)]

He, that permits his Fancy thus to stray.
With every lure, will rarely find his way
To that great end, to which his soul is bent:
For gath'ring fancies warp the steady light
Of Reason's beam, and leave her whelm'd in night,
For ever baffled of her first intent.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 3]

He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,
Still of his aim is wide, in that the one
Sicklies and wastes to nought the other’s strength.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

He in whose bosom thought springs up to thought,
Destroys himself the figures of his loom --
The birth of one prepares the others's tomb.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

For evermore the man in whom is springing
Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark,
Because the force of one the other weakens.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

For ever the man, in whom thought wells up over thought, removes far from himself his mark, because the rush of the second slackens the first.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Always the man in whom new thought doth grow
On previous thought, from his true course doth roam,
Because the one doth flag the other's glow.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

For always the man in whom thought on thought wells up removes from himself his aim, for the force of one weakens the other.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

For ever the man in whom thought wells up on thought, sets back his mark, because the one saps the force of the other.
[tr. Okey (1901)]

For always he in whom thought overtakes
The former thought, his goal less clearly sees.
Because the one the other must relax.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

He aims beside the mark whose fancies bubble
One on another, driving back and drumming
Each other out, so that his eye sees double.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]

For when a man lets his attention range
toward every wisp, he loses true direction,
sapping his mind's force with continual change.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]

For always the man in whom thought wells
up on thought sets back his mark,
for one thought weakens the force of the other.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]

The man who lets his thoughts be turned aside
by one thing or another, will lose sight
of his true goal, his mind sapped of its strength.
[tr. Musa (1981)]

Because the man in whom thoughts bubble up
One after the other, goes wide of the mark,
Because one thought weakens the force of another.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

The man in whom thought thrusts ahead of thought
allows the goal he’s set to move far off --
the force of one thought saps the other’s force.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]

For always the man in whom one care sprouts above the other makes his target more distant, because the impulse of the one weakens the other.
[tr. Durling (2003)]

Since the man, in whom thought rises on thought, sets himself back, because the force of the one weakens the other.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

When thought is bred too rampantly from thought,
then, of himself, a man will miss the mark.
Each mental thrust debilitates the first.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]

For any man who lets one thought --
and then another -- take him over
will soon lose track of his first goal.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

A man whose mind is distracted lets thought after thought
Keep him from getting where he wants to go:
They hammer each other down; nothing can grow.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]