For thee the wonder-working earth puts forth sweet flowers.
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Anand Thakur
For thee the wonder-working earth puts forth sweet flowers.
LUCRETIUS
Rest, brother, rest. Have you done ill or well Rest, rest, There is no God, no gods who dwell Crowned with avenging righteousness on high Nor frowning ministers of their hate in hell.
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How is it that the sky feeds the stars?
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Time changes the nature of the whole world; Everything passes from one state to another And nothing stays like itself.
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The wailing of the newborn infant is mingled with the dirge for the dead.
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Nature allows Destruction nor collapse of aught, until Some outward force may shatter by a blow, Or inward craft, entering its hollow cells, Dissolve it down.
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No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings – the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.
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All things obey fixed laws.
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If men saw that a term was set to their troubles, they would find strength in some way to withstand the hocus-pocus and intimidations of the prophets.
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The mind like a sick body can be healed and changed by medicine.
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From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.
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It is doubtful what fortune to-morrow will bring.
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Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
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So it is more useful to watch a man in times of peril, and in adversity to discern what kind of man he is; for then at last words of truth are drawn from the depths of his heart, and the mask is torn off, reality remains.
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Not they who reject the gods are profane, but those who accept them.
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There is so much wrong with the world.
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