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Even the worthy Homer sometimes nods.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Nods
Homer
Worthy
Sometimes
Even

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Joy, grief, desire or fear, whate'er the name The passion bears, its influence is the same Where things exceed your hope or fall below, You stare, look blank, grow numb from top to toe.
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Cease to ask what the morrow will bring forth, and set down as gain each day that fortune grants.
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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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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.
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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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People hiss at me, but I applaud myself in my own house, and at the same time contemplate the money in my chest.
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Change generally pleases the rich. [Lat., Plerumque gratae divitibus vices.]
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Whom does undeserved honour please, and undeserved blame alarm, but the base and the liar?
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At Rome I love Tibur then, like a weathercock, at Tibur Rome.
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The poet must put on the passion he wants to represent.
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It was intended to be a vase, it has turned out a pot.
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Whom has not the inspiring bowl made eloquent? [Lat., Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.]
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When putting words together is good to do it with nicety and caution, your elegance and talent will be evident if by putting ordinary words together you create a new voice.
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No one is content with his own lot.
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He who is always in a hurry to be wealthy and immersed in the study of augmenting his fortune has lost the arms of reason and deserted the post of virtue.
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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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Who then is sane? He who is not a fool.
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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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Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.
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Who is a good man? He who keeps the decrees of the fathers, and both human and divine laws. [Lat., Vir bonus est quis? Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque servat.]
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