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Day is pushed out by day, and each new moon hastens to its death. [Lat., Truditur dies die, Novaeque pergunt interire lunae.]
Horace
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Horace
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Dies
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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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The explanation avails nothing, which in leading us from one difficulty involves us in another.
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Where there are many beauties in a poem I shall not cavil at a few faults proceeding either from negligence or from the imperfection of our nature.
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While we're talking, envious time is fleeing: pluck the day, put no trust in the future
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In my youth I thought of writing a satire on mankind! but now in my age I think I should write an apology for them.
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To marvel at nothing is just about the one and only thing, Numicius, that can make a man happy and keep him that way.
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Shun an inquisitive man, he is invariably a tell-tale.
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Enjoy in happiness the pleasures which each hour brings with it.
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He, that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door, Imbitt'ring all his state.
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