black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

These the senses we trust, first, last, and always.

Lucretius

Never trust the calm sea when she shows her false alluring smile.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Do we not see all humans unaware Of what they want, and always searching everywhere, And changing place, as if to drop the load they bear?
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Tears for the mourners who are left behind Peace everlasting for the quiet dead.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Whenever anything changes and quits its proper limits, this change is at once the death of that which was before.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Fear is the mother of all gods.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
What can give us more sure knowledge than our senses? How else can we distinguish between the true and the false?
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Violence and wrong enclose all who commit them in their meshes and do mostly recoil on him from whom they begin.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
True piety lies rather in the power to contemplate the universe with a quiet mind.
LUCRETIUS

Mindset Pity Power True Universe
Violence and injury enclose in their net all that do such things, and generally return upon him who began.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
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.
LUCRETIUS

Cling Degree Flow Fragment
The mind like a sick body can be healed and changed by medicine.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
To none is life given in freehold; to all on lease.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know That minds and the light souls of all that live Have mortal birth and death, I will go on Verses to build meet for thy rule of life, Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
The water hollows out the stone, not by force but drop by drop.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur
Things stand apart so far and differ, that What’s food for one is poison for another.
LUCRETIUS

Food Oneself Poison Stand
From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.
LUCRETIUS

Anand Thakur

These the senses we trust, first, last, and always.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

These the senses we trust, first, last, and always.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Lucretius Quotes