I who lie here, sweet Ovid, poet of tender passions,
fell victim to my own sharp wit.
Passer-by, if you've ever been in love, don't grudge me
the traditional prayer: 'May Ovid's bones lie soft!
- Ovid's epitaph to himself
fell victim to my own sharp wit.
Passer-by, if you've ever been in love, don't grudge me
the traditional prayer: 'May Ovid's bones lie soft!
- Ovid's epitaph to himself
Diogenes was right, a dog basking in the sun is probably happier than any of us