,, Nothing keeps its own appearance,
and Nature, the renewer of all things,
continually changes every form
into some other shape.
Nothing dies, but everything varies.
And nothing is stable
in the whole universe, everything
passes; all the forms are made
only to come and go.
Time itself glides on with
constant motion, ever as a flowing river.
Neither river nor the fleeting hour
can stop its constant course. ,,
Ovid, The Metamorphoses