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Many women long for what eludes them, and like not what is offered them.
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
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Jupiter from on high smiles at the perjuries of lovers.
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Thus all things altered. Nothing dies. And here and there the unbodied spirit flies.
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Jupiter has no leisure to attend to little things.
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I flee who chases me and chase who flees me.
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That fair face will as years roll on lose its beauty, and old age will bring its wrinkles to the brow.
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