Epictetus!

Socrates is an insufferable bore, and Phaedo, Crito and the Apology are specious garbage. I eventually skipped to his death with relish. Had Crito the wit of Ben Franklin, he should have argued that Socrates must stay and die, and the old gas bag would have obligingly taken the contrary view, unwilling to shut up so near his grand departure.

Epictetus is surprisingly unfruitful, but this passage stands out:

When we are invited to a banquet, we take what is set before us; and were one to call upon his host to set fish upon the table or sweet things, he would be deemed absurd. Yet in a word, we ask the Gods for what they do not give; and that, although they have given us so many things!