Sappho — "If you are squeamish, don't prod the beach rubble."
If you are squeamish, don't prod the beach rubble.
If you are squeamish, don't prod the beach rubble.
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"Once again Love drives me on, that loosener of limbs."
"Raise high the roof beam, carpenters!"
"I want to tell you something but good taste. Restrains me."
"Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables."
"Death must be an evil and the gods agree; for why else would they live for ever?"
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