Phoebus Quotes

“Ah, wretched me! that love is not to be cured by any herbs; and that those arts which afford relief to all, are of no avail for their master.”

“But since thou canst not be my wife, at least thou shalt be my tree; my hair, my lyre, my quiver shall always have thee, oh laurel!”

“He gave utterance to sighs fetched from the bottom of his heart (for it is not allowed the celestial features to be bathed with tears).”

“But do thou have a care, my son, that I be not the occasion of a gift fatal to thee, and while the matter still permits, alter thy intentions.”