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False praise can please, and calumny affright None but the vicious, and the hypocrite.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Praise
None
Please
Affright
Calumny
Hypocrite
Vicious
False

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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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Painters and poets, you say, have always had an equal license in bold invention. We know we claim the liberty for ourselves and in turn we give it to others.
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The cask will long retain the flavour of the wine with which it was first seasoned.
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One wanders to the left, another to the right. Both are equally in error, but, are seduced by different delusions.
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The envious man grows lean at the success of his neighbor.
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Teaching brings out innate powers, and proper training braces the intellect.
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All singers have this fault: if asked to sing among friends they are never so inclined if unasked, they never leave off.
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Who knows whether the gods will add tomorrow to the present hour?
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The words can not return.
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If a man's fortune does not fit him, it is like the shoe in the story if too large it trips him up, if too small it pinches him.
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There is a fault common to all singers. When they're among friends and are asked to sing they don't want to, and when they're not asked to sing they never stop.
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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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Be this our wall of brass, to be conscious of having done no evil, and to grow pale at no accusation.
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Even play has ended in fierce strife and anger.
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Something is always wanting to incomplete fortune. [Lat., Curtae nescio quid semper abest rei.]
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By heaven you have destroyed me, my friends!
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Death is the ultimate boundary of human matters.
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He has not lived badly whose birth and death has been unnoticed by the world.
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