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By heaven you have destroyed me, my friends!
Horace
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Horace
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Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Destroyed
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Heaven
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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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Busy idleness urges us on. [Lat., Strenua nos exercet inertia.]
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A comic matter cannot be expressed in tragic verse. [Lat., Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult.]
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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.]
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Blind self-love, vanity, lifting aloft her empty head, and indiscretion, prodigal of secrets more transparent than glass, follow close behind.
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Youth is unduly busy with pampering the outer person.
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Shun an inquisitive man, he is invariably a tell-tale.
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Busy idleness urges us on.
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Force without reason falls of its own weight.
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Life gives nothing to man without labor.
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Neither men, nor gods, nor booksellers' shelves permit ordinary poets to exist. [Lat., Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae.]
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Happy is the man to whom nature has given a sufficiency with even a sparing hand.
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Misfortunes, untoward events, lay open, disclose the skill of a general, while success conceals his weakness, his weak points.
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It was a wine jar when the molding began: as the wheel runs round why does it turn out a water pitcher?
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Whatever you teach, be brief what is quickly said, the mind readily receives and faithfully retains, everything superfluous runs over as from a full vessel.
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It is time for thee to be gone, lest the age more decent in its wantonness should laugh at thee and drive thee of the stage. [Lat., Tempus abire tibi est, ne . . . Rideat et pulset lasciva decentius aetas.]
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The good refrain from sin from the pure love of virtue.
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All powerful money gives birth and beauty. [Lat., Et genus et formam regina pecunia donat.]
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You will live wisely if you are happy in your lot.
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Those who want much, are always much in need happy the man to whom God gives with a sparing hand what is sufficient for his wants.
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