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I hate the irreverent rabble and keep them far from me.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Rabble
Irreverent
Hate
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Dull winter will re-appear.
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How does it happen, Maecenas, that no one is content with that lot in life which he has chosen, or which chance has thrown in his way, but praises those who follow a different course? [Lat., Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo quam sibi sortem, Seu ratio dederit, seu fors objecerit, illa Contentus vivat? laudet diversa sequentes.]
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The one who cannot restrain their anger will wish undone, what their temper and irritation prompted them to do.
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We rarely find anyone who can say he has lived a happy life, and who, content with his life, can retire from the world like a satisfied guest.
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Once a word has been allowed to escape, it cannot be recalled.
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Abridge your hopes in proportion to the shortness of the span of human life for while we converse, the hours, as if envious of our pleasure, fly away: enjoy, therefore, the present time, and trust not too much to what to-morrow may produce.
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There is measure in all things.
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Anger is momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you.
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There are lessons to be learned from a stupid man.
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These trifles will lead to serious mischief. [Lat., Hae nugae seria ducent In mala.]
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A good resolve will make any port.
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Years, following years, steal something every day At last they steal us from ourselves away.
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Wise were the kings who never chose a friend till with full cups they had unmasked his soul, and seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.
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He that finds out he's changed his lot for worse, Let him betimes the untoward choice reverse: For still, when all is said, the rule stands fast, That each man's shoe be made on his own last.
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The Sun, the stars and the seasons as they pass, some can gaze upon these with no strain of fear.
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It is but a poor establishment where there are not many superfluous things which the owner knows not of, and which go to the thieves.
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Whatever things injure your eye you are anxious to remove but things which affect your mind you defer.
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Don't long for the unripe grape.
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The man is either crazy or he is a poet.
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Let me posses what I now have, or even less, so that I may enjoy my remaining days, if Heaven grant any to remain.
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