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When disposition wins us, the features please.
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Wins
Disposition
Features
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Winning
More quotes by Ovid
If you have a voice, sing but if you have good arms, then go in for dancing.
Ovid
Deadly poisons are concealed under sweet honey.
Ovid
Grant me profits only, grant me the joy of profit made, and see to it that I enjoy cheating the buyer!
Ovid
You will go most safely in the middle.
Ovid
In war the olive branch of peace is of use. [Lat., Adjuvat in bello pacatae ramus olivae.]
Ovid
That load becomes light which is cheerfully borne.
Ovid
Presents, believe me, seduce both men and gods.
Ovid
Many women long for what eludes them, and like not what is offered them.
Ovid
If he should love deny him what he loves!
Ovid
As the yellow gold is tried in fire, so the faith of friendship must be seen in adversity.
Ovid
That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.
Ovid
I would that you were either less beautiful, or less corrupt. Such perfect beauty does not suit such imperfect morals. [Lat., Aut formosa fores minus, aut minus improba vellem. Non facit ad mores tam bona forma malos.]
Ovid
Friendship is but a name, faith is an empty name. Alas, it is not safe to praise to a friend the object of your love as soon as he believes your praises, he slips into your place.
Ovid
Add little to little and there will be a big pile.
Ovid
The high-spirited man may indeed die, but he will not stoop to meanness. Fire, though it may be quenched, will not become cool.
Ovid
Sleep ... peace of the soul, who puttest care to flight.
Ovid
Love is a thing that is full of cares and fears.
Ovid
Thou beginnest better than thou endest. The last is inferior to the first. [Lat., Coepisti melius quam desinis. Ultima primis cedunt.]
Ovid
Death is not grievous to me, for I shall lay aside my pains by death. [Lat., Nec mihi mors gravis est posituro morte dolores.]
Ovid
All things change, nothing is extinguished. There is nothing in the whole world which is permanent. Everything flows onward all things are brought into being with a changing nature the ages themselves glide by in constant movement.
Ovid