Ovid Quotes

Quotes tagged as "ovid" (showing 1-30 of 31)
Roman Payne
“Rest in Peace?’ Why that phrase? That’s the most ridiculous phrase I’ve ever heard! You die, and they say ‘Rest in Peace!’ …Why would one need to ‘rest’ when they’re dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d’Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I’m only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won’t need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on.”
Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“Childhood is bound like the Gordian knot with my memories of the Black Sea, and I still feel its waters welling up within me today. Sometimes these waters are leaden, as grey as the military ships that sail on their curved expanses, and sometimes they are blue as pigmented cobalt. Then would come dusk, when I would sit and watch the seabirds waver to shore, flitting from open waters to the quiet empty vastlands in darkening spaces behind me, the same birds Ovid once saw during his exile, perhaps; and the same waters the Argonauts crossed searching for the fleece of renewal.

And out in the distance, invisible, the towering heights of Caucasus, where once-bright memories of the fire-thief have transmuted into something weird and many-faceted, and beyond these, pitch-black Karabakh in dolorous Armenia.”
Paul Christensen, The Heretic Emperor

“All right, boy, skewer me. I've dropped my defenses,
I'm an easy victim. Why, by now
Your arrows practically know their own way to the target
And feel less at home in their quiver than in me.”
Ovid, The Erotic Poems
tags: ovid

Roman Payne
“Not to waste the spring
I threw down everything,
And ran into the open world
To sing what I could sing...
To dance what I could dance!
And join with everyone!
I wandered with a reckless heart
beneath the newborn sun.

First stepping through the blushing dawn,
I crossed beneath a garden bower,
counting every hermit thrush,
counting every hour.

When morning's light was ripe at last,
I stumbled on with reckless feet;
and found two nymphs engaged in play,
approaching them stirred no retreat.
With naked skin, their weaving hands,
in form akin to Calliope's maids,
shook winter currents from their hair
to weave within them vernal braids.

I grabbed the first, who seemed the stronger
by her soft and dewy leg,
and swore blind eyes,
Lest I find I,
before Diana, a hunted stag.

But the nymphs they laughed,
and shook their heads.
and begged I drop beseeching hands.
For one was no goddess, the other no huntress,
merely two girls at play in the early day.

"Please come to us, with unblinded eyes,
and raise your ready lips.
We will wash your mouth with watery sighs,
weave you springtime with our fingertips."

So the nymphs they spoke,
we kissed and laid,
by noontime's hour,
our love was made,
Like braided chains of crocus stems,
We lay entwined, I laid with them,
Our breath, one glassy, tideless sea,
Our bodies draping wearily.
We slept, I slept so lucidly,
with hopes to stay this memory.

I woke in dusty afternoon,
Alone, the nymphs had left too soon,
I searched where perched upon my knees
Heard only larks' songs in the trees.

"Be you, the larks, my far-flung maids?
With lilac feet and branchlike braids...
Who sing sweet odes to my elation,
in your larking exaltation!"

With these, my clumsy, carefree words,
The birds they stirred and flew away,
"Be I, poor Actaeon," I cried, "Be dead…
Before they, like Hippodamia, be gone astray!"
Yet these words, too late, remained unheard,
By lark, that parting, morning bird.
I looked upon its parting flight,
and smelled the coming of the night;
desirous, I gazed upon its jaunt,
as Leander gazes Hellespont.

Now the hour was ripe and dark,
sensuous memories of sunlight past,
I stood alone in garden bowers
and asked the value of my hours.
Time was spent or time was tossed,
Life was loved and life was lost.
I kissed the flesh of tender girls,
I heard the songs of vernal birds.
I gazed upon the blushing light,
aware of day before the night.

So let me ask and hear a thought:
Did I live the spring I’d sought?
It's true in joy, I walked along,
took part in dance,
and sang the song.
and never tried to bind an hour
to my borrowed garden bower;
nor did I once entreat
a day to slumber at my feet.
Yet days aren't lulled by lyric song,
like morning birds they pass along,
o'er crests of trees, to none belong;
o'er crests of trees of drying dew,
their larking flight, my hands, eschew
Thus I'll say it once and true…

From all that I saw,
and everywhere I wandered,
I learned that time cannot be spent,
It only can be squandered.”
Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“And besides, we lovers fear everything”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“My hopes are not always realized, but I always hope.”
tags: hope, ovid

“The man who has experienced shipwreck shudders even at a calm sea.”

John Milton
“Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
That likest thy Narcissus are?”
John Milton, The Complete Poems

Brian Friel
“No matter how long the sun may linger on his long and weary journey, at length evening comes with its sacred song.”
Brian Friel, Translations

“Ceza kaldırılabilir; ama suç insanın içinde sonsuza kadar yaşar.”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

Margaret Atwood
“O, lente, lente currite noctis equi!”
Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

Steven L. Sheppard
“Oh, Narcissus! My heart beats ink for you.
A pulse in every line.
It's your eyes
my words want to be read by,
your kind of mind
they would be understood by,
your heart
they'd be felt by,
and then you'd feel the same way that I do,
if only these words could be read or heard by you.”
Steven L. Sheppard, The Untold Story Of Narcissus And Echo

“In trying to find out what Bruno thought of his priesthood, we now have a serious problem which we did not have before. In Venice, he told his fellow-prisoners that he was an enemy of the mass, and thought transubstantiation a ridiculous idea and the Catholic ritual bestial and blasphemous. He compared the elevation of the host to hanging somebody on a gallows, or perhaps to lifting him up on a pitchfork. He told somebody who had dreamt of going to mass that that was a terrible omen; and he performed a mock mass with Ovid's Art of Love instead of a missal. He joked about hungry priests going off from mass to a good breakfast. He spoke particularly ill of the mass as a sacrifice, and said that Abel, the archetype of the sacrificing priest, was a criminal butcher who was rightly killed by the vegetarian Cain. A phrase he used elsewhere, apparently about Christ's passion and not directly about the mass itself, seems nevertheless to express rather exactly his attitude to is: he called it 'some kind of a cabbalistic tragedy'.”
John Bossy, Giordano Bruno and the Embassy Affair

Steven L. Sheppard
“Follow your heart, not the law.”
Steven L. Sheppard, Byblis And Caunus

Steven L. Sheppard
“Oh, is that right? You know, a lioness will protect her cub by baring her teeth, by roaring, using her claws to defend her cub if she feels she has to - this mother, has other means. You are standing in the way of my daughter's best interests. If you try to pick our peach from our family tree, you will be picking a fight. Do you understand me?”
Steven L. Sheppard, The Untold Story Of Pyramus And Thisbe

Steven L. Sheppard
“He's at war with himself. Why doesn't he surrender to his feelings and stop fighting himself? He has hang-ups that I must cut him loose from.”
Steven L. Sheppard, Byblis And Caunus

“En Crotona vivía un hombre de la isla de Samos que se había expatriado por no soportar a un odioso tirano (...) Ese hombre fue el primero que le aconsejó:
- ¡No matarás! ¡No matarás para comer!
(...) Gustaban los hombres asemejarse a las bestias? Hasta los dioses, que ahora gustaban del sacrificio de los animales, llegarían un tiempo en el que preferirían los frutos de la tierra (...) Pero, ¿no merecería el castigo de los dioses quien, después de utilizar el pausado y honrado trabajo del buey, lo desyugara para matarlo y comerlo?
Aquel sabio enseño igualmente que las almas son inmortales y que cuando un cuerpo muere, ellas buscan otro cuerpo al que guiar (...) Y después de entrar en materia, y que navego, por así decirlo, en pleno mar de la disquisición, os aseguraré que todo es mutable en el Universo. No puede volver atrás el río. No se detiene ni un punto el rápido transcurso de las horas. Una ola empuja a las otras. Nunca es presente; siempre es pasado (...) Toda criatura no permanece la misma ni un segundo. Y cuando pensamos que es consumida, ya se está transformando en una nueva (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

Steven L. Sheppard
“Look past our kinship, and towards a romantic relationship!”
Steven L. Sheppard, Byblis And Caunus

Steven L. Sheppard
“I think I know what he is REALLY doing in there... and thinking about ME while doing it." (continuing) "But when he thinks of me, he thinks: sister! Think: Byblis! BYBLIS! I don't think of him as my brother, I think of him as CAUNUS!”
Steven L. Sheppard, Byblis And Caunus

“(...) No se conocían todavía los motivos que motivaban al hombre ni los suplicios. En este siglo feliz se desconocían aún esas amenazas materiales que sirven de freno a la licencia. No se sabía de ningún criminal que temblase ante la presencia de un juez, porque las gentes no necesitaban jueces (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“¡Ay! Aquello que muchas veces nos produce un gran alegría es a menudo el origin de nuestras desgracias (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

Steven L. Sheppard
“You really are exotic, for boys in my country, they do not have such pectorals. I like yours.”
Steven L. Sheppard, The Untold Story Of Iphis And Ianthe

“Todas las grandes riquezas que posees se encuentran ahora reducidas al espacio que tu cuerpo.”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“Si la tierra y el mar -dijo un día- me son cerrados por el tirano, éste no podrá cerrarme el camino a los aires. Aun cuando sea el dueño del mundo entero, el cielo no está bajo su poderío y podré por él trazarme un camino.”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“(...) Los dioses no están exentos de sentir la cólera.”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“- ¡Oh, dioses inmortales! Si no os aterra escuchar culpas terribles... os confesaré que soy la más miserable de las pecadoras... ¡No temo, no, morir! Pero si viviendo podría envenenar a los vivos, muriendo podría no ser la paz de los que en ella permanecen. Podéis hacer el prodigio de que ni viva ni muera...”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“(...) Así como yo he sido siempre amante de la paz, mi hermano, por el contrario, se complacía con las luchas y los distubios (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“(...) Los rayos del Sol jamás penetraban en ella. Siempre rodeada de espesas nubes, nunca los gallos anunciaron el retorno de la Aurora. Jamás los perros importunaron con sus ladridos la tranquilidad allí reinante. El viento no agita ni las hojas ni las ramas. No se oyen querellas ni murmullos: es ésta la mansión del silencio y la dulce tranquilidad. El Leteo, corriendo sobre losguijarros, es el único suave murmullo que allí se oye (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“(...) Y las armas del más bravo de los hombres fueron la recompensa del más elocuente (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

“Hay un camino oscuro, cuesta abajo, que conduce hasta los Infiernos, donde todo es silencio y horror (...) Y lo mismo que el océano recibe todos los ríos que corren por la Tierra, así el imperio de este dios Plutón, recibe todas las almas descarriadas, de las cuales unas se ocupan en los mismos anhelos que tenían en vida, muchas en el servicio de Plutón, y bastantes en desesperarse (...)”
Ovid, Metamorphoses

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