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Thy destiny is only that of man, but thy aspirations may be those of a god.

Ovid

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Ovid
Author
Elegist
Mythographer
Poet
Writer
Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Aspirations
Aspiration
Destiny
May
Men

More quotes by Ovid

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We are all bound thither we are hastening to the same common goal. Black death calls all things under the sway of its laws. [Lat., Tendimus huc omnes metam properamus ad unam. Omnia sub leges mors vocat atra suas.]
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A soldier when aged is not appreciated the love of an old man sickens.
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God himself helps those who dare.
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Believe me, the gods spare the afflicted, and do not always oppress those who are unfortunate.
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With wavering steps does fickle fortune stray, Nowhere she finds a firm and fixed abode But now all smiles, and now again all frowns, She's constant only in inconstancy.
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Well has he lived who has lived well in obscurity.
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Ere land and sea and the all-covering sky Were made, in the whole world the countenance Of nature was the same, all one, well named Chaos, a raw and undivided mass, Naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds Of ill-joined elements compressed together.
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Love's dominion, like a kings, admits of no partition.
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Time itself flows on with constant motion, just like a river: for no more than a river can the fleeting hour stand still. As wave is driven on by wave, and, itself pursued, pursues the one before, so the moments of time at once flee and follow, and are ever new.
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There is no pleasure pure and simple, and some care always comes to mar our joys.
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One does not yearn for that which is easily acquired.
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Our neighbour's crop is always more fruitful and his cattle produce more milk than our own.
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A pleasing countenance is no light advantage.
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It is a kingly act to help the fallen.
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Suppressed pain chokes us in our breasts It surges, adding ever to its strength.
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Take rest a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop
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I see and approve better things, but follow worse.
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Either you pursue or push, O Sisyphus, the stone destined to keep rolling. [Lat., Aut petis aut urgues ruiturum, Sisyphe, saxum.]
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Thanks are justly due for things got without purchase. [Lat., Gratia pro rebus merito debetur inemtis.]
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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