It is doubtful what fortune to-morrow will bring.
Original text (Latin)
Original text (Latin)
By protracting life, we do not deduct one jot from the duration of death.
Men are eager to tread underfoot what they have once too much feared.
In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from.
In the fields of observation chance favors only the prepared mind.
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.
O Fortune, cruellest of heavenly powers,
Why make such game of this poor life of ours?
Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Lucretius (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.