A mind conscious of right laughs at the falsehoods of rumour. [Lat., Conscia mens recti famae mendacia risit.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
Rest strengthens the body, the mind too is thus supported; but unremitting toil destroys both. — Ovid Copy Share Image
As the mind of each man is conscious of good or evil, so does he conceive within his breast hope or fear,… — Ovid Copy Share Image
The sick mind can not bear anything harsh. [Lat., Mensque pati durum sustinet aegra nihil.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
The love of fame usually spurs on the mind. [Lat., Ingenio stimulos subdere fama solet.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
The mind conscious of innocence despises false reports: but we are a set always ready to believe a scandal. — Ovid Copy Share Image
And I will capture your minds with sweet novelty. [Lat., Dulcique animos novitate tenebo.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
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… — Ovid Copy Share Image
According to the state of a man's conscience, so do hope and fear on account of his deeds arise in his mind. — Ovid Copy Share Image
Wine stimulates the mind and makes it quick with heat; care flees and is dissolved in much drink. — Ovid Copy Share Image
Heavens! what thick darkness pervades the minds of men. [Lat., Pro superi! quantum mortalia pectora caecae, Noctis habent.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
“Happy is the man who has broken the chains which hurt the mind, and has given up worrying once and for all.”… — Ovid Copy Share Image
Every woman thinks herself attractive; even the plainest is satisfied with the charms she deems that she possesses. — Ovid Copy Share Image
Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply its strength. — Ovid Copy Share Image
A mind conscious of right laughs at the falsehoods of rumour. [Lat., Conscia mens recti famae mendacia risit.] — Ovid Copy Share Image
It is convenient that there be gods, and, as it is convenient, let us believe there are. — Ovid Copy Share Image
I hate a woman who offers herself because she ought to do so, and cold and dry thinks of her sewing when making love. — Ovid Copy Share Image
The sea's vast depths lie open to the fish; Wherever the breezes blow the bird may fly; So to the brave man every land's… — Ovid Copy Share Image
Rare is the virtue that's not ruled by Fortune, That stands unshaken even when Fortune flees. — Ovid Copy Share Image
Thus all things altered. Nothing dies. And here and there the unbodied spirit flies. — Ovid Copy Share Image
