the dank night is sweeping down from the skyand the setting stars incline our heads to sleep.

the dank night is sweeping down from the skyand the setting stars incline our heads to sleep.

Virgil
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Each of us bears his own Hell.

Virgil
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the dank night is sweeping down from the skyand the setting stars incline our heads to sleep.

Virgil
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Facilis descensus Averno:Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis;Sed revocare gradium superasque evadere ad auras,Hoc opus, hic labor est.(The gates of Hell are open night and day;Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:But to return, and view the cheerful skies,In this task and mighty labor lies.)

Virgil, The Aeneid
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..and why the winter suns so rush to bathe themselves in the seaand what slows down the nights to a long lingering crawl...

Virgil, The Aeneid
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Death's brother, sleep.

Virgil, The Aeneid
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They succeed, because they think they can.

Virgil
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They can conquer who believe they can.

Virgil
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Trust not too much to appearances.

Virgil
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Who asks whether the enemy was defeated by strategy or valor?

Virgil
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Veiling truth in mystery.

Virgil
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