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The mind alone can not be exiled. [Lat., Mens sola loco non exulat.]
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Mens
Exiled
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Mind
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Birth and ancestry, and that which we have not ourselves achieved, we can scarcely call our own.
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There is nothing constant in the universe. All ebb and flow, and every shape that's born, bears in its womb the seeds of change.
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Tis on the living Envy feeds. She silent grows When, after death, man's honor is his guard. So I, when on the pyre consumed I lie, Shall live, for all that's noblest will survive.
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Thou seest how sloth wastes the sluggish body, as water is corrupted unless it moves.
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Every one who repeats it adds something to the scandal. [The rolling snow-ball.]
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A thousand ills require a thousand cures.
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Take rest a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop
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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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Envy feeds on the living, after death it rests, then the honor of a man protects him.
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I shall speak facts but some will say I deal in fiction.
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Nowadays nothing but money counts: a fortune brings honors, friendships, the poor man everywhere lies low.
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Giving requires good sense. [Lat., Rest est ingeniosa dare.]
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Let others praise ancient times I am glad I was born in these.
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With patience bear what pains you have deserved, Grieve, if you will, over what's unmerited.
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What one beholds of a woman is the least part of her.
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Let me tell you I am better acquainted with you for a long absence, as men are with themselves for a long affliction: absence does but hold off a friend, to make one see him the truer.
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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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As God is propitiated by the blood of a hundred bulls, so also is he by the smallest offering of incense. [Lat., Sed tamen ut fuso taurorum sanguine centum, Sic capitur minimo thuris honore deux.]
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Alas! How difficult it is to prevent the countenance from betraying guilt!
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