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Deep in the cavern of the infant's breast the father's nature lurks, and lives anew.
Horace
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Horace
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
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You have played enough you have eaten and drunk enough. Now it is time for you to depart.
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And Tragedy should blush as much to stoop To the low mimic follies of a farce, As a grave matron would to dance with girls.
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