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Aries in his many fits knows no favorites.
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And for yourself, may the gods grant you your heart's desire, a husband and a home, and the blessing of a harmonious life. For nothing is greater or finer than this, when a man and woman live together with one hear and mind, bringing joy to their friends and grief to their foes.
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I discovered a meal between breakfast and brunch.
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Young people are thoughtless as a rule.
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The melancholy joys of evils pass'd, For he who much has suffer'd, much will know.
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There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
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Zeus does not bring all men's plans to fulfillment.
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The stars never lie, but the astrologers lie about the stars.
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Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good; from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills; to most he mingles both.
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Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods, magnificent, which they give of their own will, no man could have them for wanting them.
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How delicate her feet who shuns the ground, Stepping a-tiptoe on the heads of men.
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Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?
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...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.
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For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother.
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The man does better who runs from disaster than he who is caught by it.
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Trying is the first step toward failure.
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I've gone back in time to when dinosaurs weren't just confined to zoos.
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Too many kings can ruin an army.
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There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.
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Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure… For already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war. Let this be added to the tale of those.
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Even were sleep is concerned, too much is a bad thing.
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Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
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Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead.
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No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.