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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.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Lives
Command
Past
Clouds
Men
Following
Life
Sun
Lived
Illumines
Beyond
Recall
Whether
Recalls
Happy
Obscure

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To marvel at nothing is just about the one and only thing, Numicius, that can make a man happy and keep him that way.
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Acquittal of the guilty damns the judge.
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Small things become small folks.
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The lofty pine is oftenest shaken by the winds High towers fall with a heavier crash And the lightning strikes the highest mountain.
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Lighten grief with hopes of a brighter morrow Temper joy, in fear of a change of fortune.
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In times of stress, be bold and valiant.
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Better wilt thou live...by neither always pressing out to sea nor too closely hugging the dangerous shore in cautious fear of storms.
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Let not a god interfere unless where a god's assistance is necessary. [Adopt extreme measures only in extreme cases.]
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Drive Nature forth by force, she'll turn and rout The false refinements that would keep her out.
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A shoe that is too large is apt to trip one, and when too small, to pinch the feet. So it is with those whose fortune does not suit them.
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Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
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It was a wine jar when the molding began: as the wheel runs round why does it turn out a water pitcher?
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Surely oak and threefold brass surrounded his heart who first trusted a frail vessel to the merciless ocean.
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Who then is free? The wise who can command his passions, who fears not want, nor death, nor chains, firmly resisting his appetites and despising the honors of the world, who relies wholly on himself, whose angular points of character have all been rounded off and polished.
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Betray not a secret even though racked by wine or wrath.
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Fortune, delighting in her cruel task, and playing her wanton game untiringly, is ever shifting her uncertain favours.
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Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recedentes adimiunt. (The years, as they come, bring many agreeable things with them as they go, they take many away.)
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In my youth I thought of writing a satire on mankind! but now in my age I think I should write an apology for them.
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There is a medium in all things. There are certain limits beyond, or within which, that which is right cannot exist.
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Happy the man who, removed from all cares of business, after the manner of his forefathers cultivates with his own team his paternal acres, freed from all thought of usury.
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