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Cease to ask what the morrow will bring forth, and set down as gain each day that fortune grants.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Bring
Asks
Morrow
Happiness
Grants
Gain
Forth
Cease
Gains
Fortune

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Better one thorn pluck'd out than all remain.
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Alas, Postumus, the fleeting years slip by, nor will piety give any stay to wrinkles and pressing old age and untamable death.
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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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Glory drags all men along, low as well as high, bound captive at the wheels of her glittering car.
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Let us both small and great push forward in this work, in this pursuit, if to our country, if to ourselves we would live dear.
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He, that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door, Imbitt'ring all his state.
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Humble things become the humble.
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Punishment follows close on crime.
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Lawyers are men who hire out their words and anger.
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Nothing is achieved without toil.
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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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Be this our wall of brass, to be conscious of having done no evil, and to grow pale at no accusation.
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And Tragedy should blush as much to stoop To the low mimic follies of a farce, As a grave matron would to dance with girls.
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A man perfect to the finger tips.
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Victory is by nature superb and insulting.
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Nor has he lived in vain, who from his cradle to his grave has passed his life in seclusion.
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There is nothing hard inside the olive nothing hard outside the nut.
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Anger is momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you.
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Virtue, dear friend, needs no defense, The surest guard is innocence: None knew, till guilt created fear, What darts or poisoned arrows were
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Sorrowful words become the sorrowful angry words suit the passionate light words a playful expression serious words suit the grave. [Lat., Tristia maestum Vultum verba decent iratum, plena minarum Ludentem, lasciva: severum, seria dictu.]
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