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Time is the devourer of all things.
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Devourer
Things
Time
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Great is the strife between beauty and modesty.
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First try all other means, but if the wound Heal not, then use the knife, lest to the clean From the diseased the canker spread.
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The mind ill at ease, the body suffers also.
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Winged time glides on insensibly, and deceive us and there is nothing more fleeting than years.
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I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.
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That you may please others you must be forgetful of yourself.
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Struggling over my fickle heart, love draws it now this way, and now hate that--but love, I think, is winning. I will hate, if I have strength if not, I shall love unwilling.
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It's useful that there should be Gods, so let's believe there are.
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That load becomes light which is cheerfully borne.
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A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam, A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream? Or seen rich rubies blushing through A pure smooth pearl, and orient too? So like to this, nay all the rest, Is each neat niplet of her breast.
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Sleep, thou repose of all things sleep, thou gentlest of the deities thou peace of the mind, from which care flies who doest soothe the hearts of men wearied with the toils of the day, and refittest them for labor.
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A woman is a creature that's always shopping.
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Not for any one man's delight has Nature made the sun, the wind, the waters all are free.
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Love and dignity do not dwell together.
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We do not bear sweets we are recruited by a bitter potion.
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Tempus edax rerum. Time that devours all things.
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That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.
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Concealed sorrow bursts the heart, and rages within us as an internal fire.
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The cause is hidden, but the result is known. [Lat., Causa latet: vis est notissima.]
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Skill makes love unending.
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