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Often a silent face has voice and words.

Ovid

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Ovid
Author
Elegist
Mythographer
Poet
Writer
Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Silent
Face
Faces
Voice
Words
Often

More quotes by Ovid

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There is a God within us and intercourse with heaven. [Lat., Est deus in nobis et sunt commercia coeli.]
Ovid
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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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Consider the misfortunes of others, and you will be the better able to bear your own.
Ovid
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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.
Ovid
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Suppressed pain chokes us in our breasts It surges, adding ever to its strength.
Ovid
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Believe me, the gods spare the afflicted, and do not always oppress those who are unfortunate.
Ovid
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The spirited horse, which will try to win the race of its own accord, will run even faster if encouraged.
Ovid
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God gave man an upright countenance to survey the heavens, and to look upward to the stars.
Ovid
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Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move
Ovid
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Our integrity is never worth so much as when we have parted with our all to keep it.
Ovid
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Habits change into character.
Ovid
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It's right to learn, even from the enemy.
Ovid
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Writings survive the years it is by writings that you know Agamemnon, and those who fought for or against him. [Lat., Scripta ferunt annos scriptis Agamemnona nosti, Et quisquis contra vel simul arma tulit.]
Ovid
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The battle is over when the foe has fallen.
Ovid
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Sleep, rest of nature, O sleep, most gentle of the divinities, peace of the soul, thou at whose presence care disappears, who soothest hearts wearied with daily employments, and makest them strong again for labour!
Ovid
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Habit had made the custom.
Ovid
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Love fed fat soon turns to boredom.
Ovid
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Do not believe hastily.
Ovid
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There will grow from straws a mighty heap.
Ovid
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Pleasure is sweetest when 'tis paid for by another's pain.
Ovid