230 Quotes About Willis-barnstone

The season for sailing. Already the chattering swallowreturns with the slender west wind.Meadows bloom, and the boiling waves of the sea,whipped by gales, are smooth and silent.Come then, sailor, haul in the anchors and loosen the hawsers,and sail with all the canvas flying.It is Priapos, god of the harbor, who warns you now:set out from this port for foreign cargoes.

Who are you, O shipwrecked stranger?Leontichos found your corpse on the beach,buried you in this graveand cried thinking of his own hazardous life.For he knows no rest:he too roams over the sea like a gull.

Melissa, you do everything like a bee:when you kiss, you drip sweet honey from your lips;when you ask for money,I feel the savage wound of your sting.

Asklepias adores making love. She gazes at a man,her aquamarine eyes calm like the summer seas,and persuades him to go boating on the lake of love.

Where are you driving me,foul waves of love,huge sleepless winds of jealousy,turbulent sea of orgy?The rudder of my heart is broken:I drift.Will I ever again seethe voluptuous Skylla?

How can we escape from you, life, except through death?Our sorrows are endless. Endure? Escape? Neither is easy.Yes, the beauty of nature is sweet—the earth,sea, stars, the orbit of the moon and sun.But all else is fear and pain.One day a bit of luckand then we wait for inexorable Nemesis.

Evening Star, gold light of Aphrodite born in the foam,Evening Star, holy diamond of the glassblue night,you are dimmer than the moon, brighter than another star.Hello, good friend! I'm on my way to serenademy shepherd love. Give me your rays in place of moonlight.There was a new moon today, but quickly set.I am no thief, no highway man to plague a traveler at night.A lover I am. And those in love must be helped.

Through their extraordinary courage, the widefarmlands of Tegea have not shot fire and smoke into the sky. For they made their choiceto leave their children in a country greenand sweet with freedom,and died for this in the wild ranks of battle.

A woman will gnaw at your bileYet she has two fine seasons:one, in her bridal bed;two, when she is dead.