With wavering steps does fickle fortune stray, Nowhere she finds a firm and fixed abode; But now all smiles, and now again… — Ovid Abode Copy Share Image
It warms the blood, adds luster to the eyes, and wine and love have ever been allies. — Ovid Add Copy Share Image
The dove, O hawk, that has once been wounded by thy talons, is frightened by the least movement of a wing. [Lat.,… — Ovid Dove Copy Share Image
The high-spirited man may indeed die, but he will not stoop to meanness. Fire, though it may be quenched, will not become… — Ovid Fire Copy Share Image
Thus I am not able to exist either with you or without you; and I seem not to know my own wishes. — Ovid Able Copy Share Image
Calumny ever pursues the great, even as the winds hurl themselves on high places. — Ovid Calumny Copy Share Image
“My soul would sing of metamorphoses. But since, o gods, you were the source of these bodies becoming other bodies, breathe your… — Ovid Song Copy Share Image
If Jupiter hurled his thunderbolt as often as men sinned, he would soon be out of thunderbolts. — Ovid Ifs Copy Share Image
Ah me! love can not be cured by herbs. [Lat., Hei mihi! quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis.] — Ovid Amor Copy Share Image
First thing every morning before you arise say out loud, 'I believe,' three times. — Ovid Believe Copy Share Image
There is no brotherhood between love and dignity, Nor can they share the same abode. — Ovid Abode Copy Share Image
The mind, conscious of rectitude, laughed to scorn the falsehood of report. — Ovid Conscious Copy Share Image
A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by… — Ovid Death Copy Share Image
I am an exile; but it is the fault that pains; The punishment is nought; that it is deserved Is all the… — Ovid Exile Copy Share Image
“Saepe creat molles aspera spina rosas" - "Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses” — Ovid Creativity Copy Share Image
