From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.
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Anand Thakur
From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.
LUCRETIUSEpicurus whose genius surpassed all humankind, extinguished the light of others, as the stars are dimmed by the rising sun.
LUCRETIUSIt’s easier to avoid the snares of love than to escape once you are in that net.
LUCRETIUSFear was the first thing on Earth to create gods.
LUCRETIUSWhat is food to one man may be fierce poison to others.
LUCRETIUSHow many evils have flowed from religion.
LUCRETIUSFrom the midst of the very fountain of pleasure, something of bitterness arises to vex us in the flower of enjoyment.
LUCRETIUSFalling drops will at last wear away stone.
LUCRETIUSNature 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.
LUCRETIUSIt is doubtful what fortune to-morrow will bring.
LUCRETIUSIf 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.
LUCRETIUSIf one thing frightens people, it is that so much happens, on earth and out in space, the reasons for which seem somehow to escape them, and they fill in the gap by putting it down to the gods.
LUCRETIUSSome species increase, others diminish, and in a short space the generations of living creatures are changed and, like runners, pass on the torch of life.
LUCRETIUSIt’s easier to avoid the snares of love than to escape once you are in that net whose cords and knots are strong; but even so, enmeshed, entangled, you can still get out unless, poor fool, you stand in your own way.
LUCRETIUSThus it comes That earth, without her seasons of fixed rains, Could bear no produce such as makes us glad, And whatsoever lives, if shut from food, Prolongs its kind and guards its life no more.
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.
LUCRETIUS