That man lives happy and in command of himself, who from day to day can say I have lived. Whether clouds obscure, or the sun illumines the following day, that which is past is beyond recall.
It is a sweet and seemly thing to die for one's country.
One musts avoid that wicked temptress, Laziness.
Limbs of a dismembered poet.
I am doubting what to do.
When you introduce a moral lesson, let it be brief.
If a better system's thine, Impart it frankly, or make use of mine.
Death's dark way Must needs be trodden once, however we pause.
Lighten grief with hopes of a brighter morrow; Temper joy, in fear of a change of fortune.
It is not enough for poems to be fine; they must charm, and draw the mind of the listener at will.
A crafty knave needs no broker.
Never despair while under the guidance and auspices of Teucer.
I am frightened at seeing all the footprints directed towards thy den, and none returning.
Everything that is superfluous overflows from the full bosom.
Glory drags all men along, low as well as high, bound captive at the wheels of her glittering car.
What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so beloved?.
Not gods, nor men, nor even booksellers have put up with poets' being second-rate.
That I make poetry and give pleasure - if I give pleasure - are because of you.
Superfluous words simply spill out when the mind is already full.
Many brave men lived before Agamemnon; but, all unwept and unknown, are lost in the distant night, since they are without a divine poet (to chronicle their deeds).
Aiming at brevity, I become obscure.
The lazy ox wishes for horse-trappings, and the steed wishes to plough. [Lat., Optat ephippia bos piger, optat arare caballus.]
However rich or elevated, a name less something is always wanting to our imperfect fortune.
Let the character as it began be preserved to the last; and let it be consistent with itself.
The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of those who covet nothing. [Lat., Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit, A dis plura feret. Nil cupientium Nudus castra peto.]
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