In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
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Anand Thakur
In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
LUCRETIUSThose things that are in the light we behold from darkness.
LUCRETIUSHow is it that the sky feeds the stars?
LUCRETIUSRest, 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.
LUCRETIUSFear holds dominion over mortality Only because, seeing in land and sky So much the cause whereof no wise they know, Men think Divinities are working there.
LUCRETIUSOnly religion can lead to such evil.
LUCRETIUSAll things obey fixed laws.
LUCRETIUSNot they who reject the gods are profane, but those who accept them.
LUCRETIUSFor out of doubt In these affairs ’tis each man’s will itself That gives the start, and hence throughout our limbs Incipient motions are diffused.
LUCRETIUSTruths kindle light for truths.
LUCRETIUSFalling drops will at last wear away stone.
LUCRETIUSThe mask is torn off, while the reality remains
LUCRETIUSEpicurus whose genius surpassed all humankind, extinguished the light of others, as the stars are dimmed by the rising sun.
LUCRETIUSVictory puts us on a level with heaven.
LUCRETIUSAll things around, convulsed with violent thunder, seem to tremble, and the mighty walls of the capacious world appear at once to have started and burst asunder.
LUCRETIUSWe, peopling the void air, make gods to whom we impute the ills we ought to bear.
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