Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Where there are many beauties in a poem I shall not cavil at a few faults proceeding either from negligence or from the imperfection of our nature.
Horace
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Imperfection
Poem
Faults
Poetry
Shall
Either
Negligence
Nature
Beauties
Many
Proceeding
More quotes by Horace
There is measure in all things.
Horace
Words will not fail when the matter is well considered.
Horace
The good refrain from sin from the pure love of virtue.
Horace
He who is upright in his way of life and free from sin.
Horace
Be prepared to go mad with fixed rule and method.
Horace
Life gives nothing to man without labor.
Horace
Superfluous words simply spill out when the mind is already full.
Horace
A good and faithful judge ever prefers the honorable to the expedient.
Horace
If you cannot conduct yourself with propriety, give place to those who can.
Horace
When we try to avoid one fault, we are led to the opposite, unless we be very careful.
Horace
Fierce eagles breed not the tender dove.
Horace
Fortune, delighting in her cruel task, and playing her wanton game untiringly, is ever shifting her uncertain favours.
Horace
Content with his past life, let him take leave of life like a satiated guest.
Horace
Money is a handmaiden, if thou knowest how to use it A mistress, if thou knowest not.
Horace
Little folks become their little fate.
Horace
Even-handed fate Hath but one law for small and great: That ample urn holds all men's names.
Horace
Whom has not the inspiring bowl made eloquent? [Lat., Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.]
Horace
Of what use is a fortune to me, if I cannot use it? [Lat., Quo mihi fortunam, si non conceditur uti?]
Horace
The things, that are repeated again and again, are pleasant.
Horace
When a man is just and firm in his purpose, The citizens burning to approve a wrong Or the frowning looks of a tyrant Do not shake his fixed mind, nor the Southwind. Wild lord of the uneasy Adriatic, Nor the thunder in the mighty hand of Jove: Should the heavens crack and tumble down, As the ruins crushed him he would not fear.
Horace