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The deeds of men never escape the gods. [Lat., Acta deos nunquam mortalia fallunt.]
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
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Men
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To feel our ills is one thing, but to cure them is another.
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Love is a credulous thing.
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Riches, the incentives to evil, are dug out of the earth.
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He who would not be idle, let him fall in love.
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O ye gods! what thick encircling darkness blinds the minds of men!
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We two are to ourselves a crowd.
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Love is a believing creature.
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It is ill to marry in the month of May.
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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
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