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Leuconoe, close the book of fate, For troubles are in store, . . . . Live today, tomorrow is not.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Today
Live
Troubles
Book
Store
Stores
Fate
Close
Tomorrow
Trouble

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The earth opens impartially her bosom to receive the beggar and the prince.
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As we speak cruel time is fleeing. Seize the day, believing as little as possible in tomorrow.
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Gladly take the gifts of the present hour and abandon serious things!
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Help a man against his will and you do the same as murder him.
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Clogged with yesterday's excess, the body drags the mind down with it.
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Whom has not the inspiring bowl made eloquent? [Lat., Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.]
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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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A dowried wife, friends, beauty, birth, fair fame, These are the gifts of money, heavenly dame: Be but a moneyed man, persuasion tips Your tongue, and Venus settles on your lips.
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At Rome I love Tibur then, like a weathercock, at Tibur Rome.
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The mad is either insane or he is composing verses.
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Lighten grief with hopes of a brighter morrow Temper joy, in fear of a change of fortune.
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He who is upright in his way of life and free from sin.
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He paints a dolphin in the woods, a boar in the waves.
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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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