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I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved since I could not give gifts, I gave words.
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
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Nothing is swifter than our years.
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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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As the yellow gold is tried in fire, so the faith of friendship must be seen in adversity.
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The prayers of cowards fortune spurns.
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Every delay that postpones our joys, is long. [Lat., Longa mora est nobis omnis, quae gaudia differt.]
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The mind ill at ease, the body suffers also.
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Take away leisure and Cupid's bow is broken
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The more they drink the more they thirst.
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The gods behold all righteous actions.
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Temporis ars medicina fere est. Time is generally the best medicine.
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Well has he lived who has lived well in obscurity.
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It is the poor man who'll ever count his flock.
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Where crime is taught from early years, it becomes a part of nature.
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Presents, believe me, seduce both men and gods.
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Indulgent gods, grant me to sin once with impunity. That is sufficient. Let a second offence bear its punishment.
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The rest of the crowd were friends of my fortune, not of me. [Lat., Caetera fortunae, non mea, turba fuit.]
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