Spend your time in the Gymnasium - get sleek and healthy. You don’t want to be the sort of chap who’s always in the Agora telling stories about other people’s sex lives, or in the courts arguing about some piffling quibbling little dispute. No, you’ll run off to the Academy and relax under the sacred olive trees, a wreath of pure white flowers on your head, with a decent well-mannered companion or two; and you’ll share the fragrance of leafy poplar and carefree convolvulus, and the joys of spring, when the plane tree whispers her love to the elm.’