Quid confert animae pugna Hectoris, vel disputatio Platonis, aut carmina Maronis, vel neniae Nasonis? Of what benefit to the soul are the struggles of Hector, the disputations of Plato, the songs of Virgil, or the dirges of Ovid?
How is the soul profited by the strife of Hector, the arguments of Plato, the poems of Virgil, or the elegies of Ovid, who, with others like them, are now gnashing their teeth in the prison of the infernal Babylon, under the cruet tyranny of Pluto?
I don't think that France is responsible for the Vel d'Hiv.
When you grew up in France in the 1970s and 80s, the Vel' d'Hiv wasn't part of the history program.
Miseram pacem vel bello bene mutari. Even war is preferable to a shameful peace.
The views of the multitude are neither bad nor good.
[Lat., Neque mala, vel bona, quae vulgus putet.]
Scarcely is there any peace so unjust that it is better than even the fairest war. -Vix ulla tam iniqua pax, quin bello vel aequissimo sit potior
You know what I find most shocking about the Vel'd'Hiv?" Guillaume said. "Its code name." I knew the answer to that, thanks to my extensive reading. Operation Spring Breeze, " I murmured.
Aenean vehicula velit eros, molestie ultricies felis facilisis in. Pellentesque sollicitudin erat vel aliquam ultrices. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.
Writings survive the years; it is by writings that you know Agamemnon, and those who fought for or against him.
[Lat., Scripta ferunt annos; scriptis Agamemnona nosti,
Et quisquis contra vel simul arma tulit.]
Why cannot we be delighted with an author, and even feel a predilection for him, without a dislike of others? An admiration of Catullus or Virgil, of Tibullus or Ovid, is never to be heightened by a discharge of bile on Horace.
The man is either mad or his is making verses.
[Lat., Aut insanit homo, aut versus facit.]
The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid, of Plato & Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible
Either you pursue or push, O Sisyphus, the stone destined to keep rolling.
[Lat., Aut petis aut urgues ruiturum, Sisyphe, saxum.]
When I was teaching Latin in girls' schools before I became a writer, I didn't much like it if parents would come in and say, 'We'll have less of the Ovid and Virgil and more of the grammar, please.' After all, I was the one in charge. That's how I feel about doctors. You should trust them to do their job properly.
At an early age I sucked up the milk of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Terence, Anacreon, Plato and Euripides, diluted with that of Moses and the prophets.
I think there might even come a time when I would read Virgil again. Ovid's Metamorphoses, perhaps, not because the music goes round and round and never comes out, but because it's an extraordinary picture of ceaseless change that never comes to an end.