From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.
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What is food to one, is to others bitter poison.
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Vineyards and shining harvests, pastures, arbors, And all this our very utmost toil Can hardly care for, we wear down our strength Whether in oxen or in men, we dull The edges of our ploughshares, and in return Our fields turn mean and stingy, underfed, And so today the farmer shakes his head, More and more often sighing that his work, The labour of his hands, has come to naught.
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Pleasant it is, when over a great sea the winds trouble the waters, to gaze from shore upon another's great tribulation; not because any man's troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive you are free of them yourself is pleasant.
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What has this bugbear Death to frighten man, If souls can die, as well as bodies can?
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Pleasant it is, when over a great sea the winds trouble the waters, to gaze from shore upon another's great tribulation not because any man's troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive you are free of them yourself is pleasant.
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The falling drops at last will wear the stone.
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The greatest wealth is to live content with little, for there is never want where the mind is satisfied.
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Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.
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What came from the earth returns back to the earth, and the spirit that was sent from heaven, again carried back, is received into the temple of heaven.
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Such evil deeds could religion prompt.
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What is food to one man is bitter poison to others.
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The fall of dropping water wears away the Stone.
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In the works of Lucretius, we find two reasons why we shouldn
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So, when our mortal frame shall be disjoin'd, The lifeless lump uncoupled from the mind,...
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Nothing can be created from nothing.
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The drops of rain make a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling.
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