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You will be melancholy, if you are solitary.
Ovid
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Ovid
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Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Melancholy
Solitary
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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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We hate the hawk because he ever lives in battle.
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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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Happy is he who dares courageously to defend what he loves.
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Grief brims itself and flows away in tears.
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If the art is concealed, it succeeds.
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Treat a thousand dispositions in a thousand ways.
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Presents, believe me, seduce both men and gods.
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