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The drunkard is convicted by his praises of wine.

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Drunkard
Convicted
Drunkards
Praises
Praise
Wine

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He who postpones the hour of living as he ought, is like the rustic who waits for the river to pass along (before he crosses) but it glides on and will glide forever. [Lat., Vivendi recte qui prorogat horam Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis at ille Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum.]
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Little folks become their little fate.
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Aiming at brevity, I become obscure.
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The lofty pine is oftenest shaken by the winds High towers fall with a heavier crash And the lightning strikes the highest mountain.
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