Gli huomini dimenticano più teste la morta del padre, che la perdita del patrimonie.
A son could bear with great complacency, the death of his father, while the loss of his inheritance might drive him to despair.
Things that are not at all, are never lost.
What's saved affords
No indication of what's lost. </poem>
A wise man loses nothing, if he but save himself.
Montaigne—Essays. Of Solitude.
When wealth is lost, nothing is lost;
When health is lost, something is lost;
When character is lost, all is lost!
That puts it not unto the touch
To win or lose it all.
Si quis mutuum quid dederit, sit pro proprio
perditum; Cum repetas, inimicum amicum beneficio invenis tuo. Si mage exigere cupias, duarum rerum exoritur optio; Vel illud, quod credideris perdas, vel ilium amicum, amiseris. What you lend is lost; when you ask for it back, you may find a friend made an enemy by your kindness. If you begin to press him further, you have the choice of two things— either to lose your loan or lose your friend. Plautus—Trinummus. IV. 3. 43.
Periere mores, jus, decus, pietas, fides,
Et qui redire nescit, cum perit, pudor. We have lost morals, justice, honor, piety and faith, and that sense of shame which, once lost, can never be restored. Seneca—Agamemnon. CXII. </poem>
Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
Thou art gone, and forever!
Scott—Lady of the Lake. Canto III. St. 16.
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 4. L. 1.
That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break.
But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.
No man can lose what he never had.
Izaak Walton—The Compleat Angler. Pt. I.
Ch. V.
| seealso = (See also Marlowe)
LOTUS
Zizyphus Lotus
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Where drooping lotos-flowers, distilling balm,
Dream by the drowsy streamlets sleep hath
crown'd,
While Care forgets to sigh, and Peace hath balsamed Pain.
Paul H Hayne—Sonnet. Pent in this Common Sphere.
The lotus flower is troubled
At the sun's resplendent light;
With sunken head and sadly
She dreamily waits for the night.
Heine—Book of Songs. Lyrical Interlude.
No. 10.
Lotos, the name; divine, nectareous juice!
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. IX. L. 106
Stone lotus cups, with petals dipped in sand.
Oh! what are' the brightest that e'er have blown
To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's throne,
Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf.
They wove the lotus band to deck
And fan with pensile wreath their neck.
A spring there is, whose silver waters show
Clear as a glass the shining sands below:
A flowering lotos spreads its arms above,
Shades all the banks, and seems itself a grove.
The lotos bowed above the tide and dreamed.
Margaret J. Preston—Rhodope's Sandal.
The Lotos blooms below the barren peak:
The Lotos blooms by every winding creek:
All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:
Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone.
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow
Lotos-dust is blown.
In that dusk land of mystic dream
Where dark Osiris sprung,
It bloomed beside his sacred stream
While yet the world was young;
And every secret Nature told,
Of golden wisdom's power,
Is nestled still in every fold,
Within the Lotos flower.
