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The man is either crazy or he is a poet.
Horace
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Horace
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
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Men
More quotes by Horace
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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Limbs of a dismembered poet.
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Think of the wonders uncorked by wine! It opens secrets, gives heart to our hopes, pushes the cowardly into battle, lifts the load from anxious minds, and evokes talents. Thanks to the bottle's prompting no one is lost for words, no one who's cramped by poverty fails to find release.
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Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
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Mingle some brief folly with wisdom now: To be foolish is sweet at times.
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Superfluous words simply spill out when the mind is already full.
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If you rank me with the lyric poets, my exalted head shall strike the stars. [Lat., Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseris, Sublimi feriam sidera vertice.]
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When a man is pleased with the lot of others, he is dissatisfied with his own, as a matter of course.
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The lazy ox wishes for horse-trappings, and the steed wishes to plough. [Lat., Optat ephippia bos piger, optat arare caballus.]
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Thou oughtest to know, since thou livest near the gods. [Lat., Scire, deos quoniam propius contingis, oportet.]
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You traverse the world in search of happiness which is within the reach of every man. A contented mind confers it on all.
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Happy and thrice happy are those who enjoy an uninterrupted union, and whose love, unbroken by any sour complaints, shall not dissolve until the last day of their existence.
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He who sings the praises of his boyhood's days.
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Anger is a momentary madness.
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The body, enervated by the excesses of the preceding day, weighs down and prostates the mind also.
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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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He who is greedy is always in want.
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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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Everything, virtue, glory, honor, things human and divine, all are slaves to riches.
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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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