How wretched are the minds of men, and how blind their understandings.
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Anand Thakur
How wretched are the minds of men, and how blind their understandings.
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We, peopling the void air, make gods to whom we impute the ills we ought to bear.
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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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For there is a VOID in things; a truth which it will be useful for you, in reference to many points, to know; and which will prevent you from wandering in doubt.
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You may complete as many generations as you please during your life; none the less will that everlasting death await you.
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Things stand apart so far and differ, that What’s food for one is poison for another.
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Meantime, when once we know from nothing still Nothing can be create, we shall divine More clearly what we seek: those elements From which alone all things created are, And how accomplished by no tool of Gods.
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I own with reason: for, if men but knew Some fixed end to ills, they would be strong By some device unconquered to withstand Religions and the menacings of seers.
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From the heart of this fountain of delights wells up some bitter taste to choke them even amid the flowers.
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Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another’s struggles.
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Air, I should explain, becomes wind when it is agitated.
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Lucretius, who follows [Epicurus] in denouncing love, sees no harm in sexual intercourse provided it is divorced from passion.
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You alone govern the nature of things. Without you nothing emerges into the light of day, without you nothing is joyous or lovely.
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Violence and injury enclose in their net all that do such things, and generally return upon him who began.
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Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.
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