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Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
Horace
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Horace
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Open
Conceal
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False
Shame
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Courage
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Nothing is swifter than rumor.
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The good refrain from sin from the pure love of virtue.
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He who sings the praises of his boyhood's days.
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The just man having a firm grasp of his intentions, neither the heated passions of his fellow men ordaining something awful, nor a tyrant staring him in the face, will shake in his convictions.
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Anger is momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you.
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The consummate pleasure (in eating) is not in the costly flavour, but in yourself. Do you seek for sauce for sweating?
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An envious man grows lean at another's fatness.
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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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The one who cannot restrain their anger will wish undone, what their temper and irritation prompted them to do.
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Betray not a secret even though racked by wine or wrath.
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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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The illustration which solves one difficulty by raising another, settles nothing. [Lat., Nil agit exemplum, litem quod lite resolvit.]
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Carpe diem. (Seize the day.)
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The drunkard is convicted by his praises of wine.
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Whoever cultivates the golden mean avoids both the poverty of a hovel and the envy of a palace.
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If anything affects your eye, you hasten to have it removed if anything affects your mind, you postpone the cure for a year. [Lat., Quae laedunt oculum festinas demere si quid Est animum, differs curandi tempus in annum.]
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Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own: he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. Be fair or foul or rain or shine, the joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, but what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
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Joking apart, now let us be serious.
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This was my prayer: an adequate portion of land with a garden and a spring of water and a small wood to complete the picture.
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Shun the inquisitive person, for he is also a talker. [Lat., Percunctatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est.]
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