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1. black
2. grey
3. blue
4. red
5. brown
6. white

Nothing unattested do I sing.

Callimachus

Related Topics

MyselfSing

Popular Authors

Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

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More Callimachus Quotes

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  You’re walking by the tomb of Battiades, Who knew well how to write poetry, and enjoy Laughter at the right moment, over the wine.

  CALLIMACHUS
  KnownMomentsPoetryWalkWisdomWriting
• 

  I abhor, too, the roaming lover, nor do I drink from every well; I loathe all things in common.

  CALLIMACHUS
  CommonDrinkLoverMyselfRoam
• 

  Here sleeps Saon, of Acanthus, son of Dicon, a holy sleep: say not that the good die.

  CALLIMACHUS
  DeathGoodnessHolySleep
• 

  More lightly do his sorrows press upon a man, when to a friend or fellow traveller he tells his griefs.

  CALLIMACHUS
  FriendshipHimselfLightManSorrow
• 

  Set a thief to catch a thief.

  CALLIMACHUS
  CatchOne LinerThief
• 

  O Charidas, what of the under world? Great darkness. And what of the resurrection? A lie. And Pluto? A fable; we perish utterly.

  CALLIMACHUS
  DarknessGreatnessLyingVanishWorld
• 

  Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore; The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four; Stella’s wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face, She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.

  CALLIMACHUS
  CharmGodGoddessGraceShine
• 

  A great book is like great evil.

  CALLIMACHUS
  BookEvilGreatness
• 

  Nothing unattested do I sing.

  CALLIMACHUS
  MyselfSing
• 

  A good man never dies.

  CALLIMACHUS
  DeathGoodnessMan
• 

  A big book is a big misfortune.

  CALLIMACHUS
  BigBookMisfortuneOne Liner
• 

  To little men, gods send little things.

  CALLIMACHUS
  GodManSmall
• 

  I wept as I remembered how often you and I had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky.

  CALLIMACHUS
  HimselfRememberSunTalkWeep
• 

  Big book, a big bore.

  CALLIMACHUS
  BigBookOne Liner
• 

  And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest, A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest, Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales awake; For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.

  CALLIMACHUS
  ArtAwakeHimselfLyingOldPleasant