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What is now an act of reason, was but blind impulse.

Ovid

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Ovid
Author
Elegist
Mythographer
Poet
Writer
Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Impulse
Blind
Reason

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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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When a rose dies, a thorn is left behind.
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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 pleasing countenance is no light advantage.
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The applause and the favour of our fellow-men Fan even a spark of genius to a flame.
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Every one who repeats it adds something to the scandal. [The rolling snow-ball.]
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Love is no assignment for cowards.
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Work while your strength and years permit you crooked age will by-and-by come upon you with silent foot.
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Knowest thou not that kings have long hands? [Lat., An nescis longos regibus esse manus?]
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There is some joy in weeping. For our tears Fill up the cup, then wash our pain away.
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Poetry comes fine-spun from a mind at peace.
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Grief brims itself and flows away in tears.
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I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.
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We two are to ourselves a crowd.
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The vulgar crowd values friends according to their usefulness.
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What is allowed us is disagreeable, what is denied us causes us intense desire.
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A woman is always buying something.
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Note too that a faithful study of the liberal arts humanizes character and permits it not to be cruel.
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Alluring pleasure is said to have softened the savage dispositions (of early mankind). [Lat., Blanda truces animos fertur mollisse voluptas.]
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There is a deity within us who breathes that divine fire by which we are animated.
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