Ovid

When the saddest memory comes to mind, of that night, my last hour in the city, when I recall that night when I left so much so dear to me — even now tears fall from my eyes.

Our native soil draws all of us, by I know not what sweetness, and never allows us to forget.

Dripping water hollows out stone, not through force but through persistence.

We always strive for what is forbidden, and desire what is denied.

Take rest; a field that has rested yields a bountiful crop.

Nothing is permanent in all the world. All things are fluid; every image forms, wandering through change. Time itself flows on in constant motion, just like a river, for neither the river nor the swift hour can stop its course; but as wave impels wave, and as each wave comes, the one before is both impelled by the next and impels the one ahead, so time both flees and follows and is always new.

Everything changes; nothing perishes.