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Beauty is heaven's gift, and how few can boast of beauty.

Ovid

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Ovid
Author
Elegist
Mythographer
Poet
Writer
Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Beauty
Heaven
Boast
Gift

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For this reason, if you believe proverbs, let me tell you the common one: It is unlucky to marry in May.
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This letter gives me a tongue and were I not allowed to write, I should be dumb. [Lat., Praebet mihi littera linguam: Et, si non liceat scribere, mutus ero.]
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The end doesn't justify the means.
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The gods behold all righteous actions.
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Be bold, take courage... and be strong of soul
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What is it that love does to a woman? Without she only sleeps with it alone, she lives.
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Time is a stream which glides smoothly on and is past before we know.
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Envy, slothful vice, Never makes its way in lofty characters, But, like the skulking viper, creeps and crawls Close to the ground.
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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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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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Love is a thing full of anxious fears.
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Medicine sometimes snatches away health, sometimes gives it.
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With patience bear what pains you have deserved, Grieve, if you will, over what's unmerited.
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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.]
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A boar is often held by a not-so-large dog.
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Pursuits become habits.
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The glow of inspiration warms us this holy rapture springs from the seeds of the Divine mind sown in man.
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Whether they yield or refuse, it delights women to have been asked.
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Burdens become light when cheerfully borne.
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Thou fool, what is sleep but the image of death? Fate will give an eternal rest. [Lat., Stulte, quid est somnus, gelidae nisi mortis imago? Longa quiescendi tempora fata dabunt.]
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