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I have to submit to much in order to pacify the touchy tribe of poets.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Poet
Poetry
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Pacify
Much
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Poets

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Whom does undeserved honour please, and undeserved blame alarm, but the base and the liar?
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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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In the midst of hopes and cares, of apprehensions and of disquietude, regard every day that dawns upon you as if it was to be your last then super-added hours, to the enjoyment of which you had not looked forward, will prove an acceptable boon.
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Naked I seek the camp of those who desire nothing.
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It was intended to be a vase, it has turned out a pot.
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He is praised by some, blamed by others.
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Anger is a momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you.
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Limbs of a dismembered poet.
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Even virtue followed beyond reason's rule May stamp the just man knave, the sage a fool.
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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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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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Those who say nothing about their poverty will obtain more than those who turn beggars.
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A good and faithful judge ever prefers the honorable to the expedient.
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The power of daring anything their fancy suggest, as always been conceded to the painter and the poet.
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There are lessons to be learned from a stupid man.
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Live mindful of how brief your life is.
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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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I have reared a memorial more enduring than brass, and loftier than the regal structure of the pyramids, which neither the corroding shower nor the powerless north wind can destroy no, not even unending years nor the flight of time itself. I shall not entirely die. The greater part of me shall escape oblivion.
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We hate virtue when it is safe when removed from our sight we diligently seek it. [Lat., Virtutem incolumem odimus, Sublatum ex oculis quaerimus.]
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The man is either crazy or he is a poet.
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