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Sorrowful words become the sorrowful angry words suit the passionate light words a playful expression serious words suit the grave. [Lat., Tristia maestum Vultum verba decent iratum, plena minarum Ludentem, lasciva: severum, seria dictu.]

Horace

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Horace
Philosopher
Poet
Writer
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Q. Horatius Flaccus
Horatius
Horatius Flaccus
Serious
Suit
Words
Grave
Light
Graves
Become
Suits
Decent
Passionate
Angry
Playful
Expression
Sorrowful

More quotes by Horace

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The whole race of scribblers flies from the town and yearns for country life.
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Who knows whether the gods will add tomorrow to the present hour?
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An accomplished man to his fingertips.
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Gladly take the gifts of the present hour and abandon serious things!
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I have erected amonument more lasting than bronze.
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That destructive siren, sloth, is ever to be avoided.
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In avoiding one vice fools rush into the opposite extreme.
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Success in the affairs of life often serves to hide one's abilities, whereas adversity frequently gives one an opportunity to discover them.
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Having no business of his own to attend to, he busies himself with the affairs of others.
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Add a sprinkling of folly to your long deliberations.
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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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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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A greater liar than the Parthians.
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Money is to be sought for first of all virtue after wealth. [Lat., Quaerenda pecunia primum est virtus post nummos.]
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Painters and poets have equal license in regard to everything.
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Those that are little, little things suit.
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Virtue, dear friend, needs no defense, The surest guard is innocence: None knew, till guilt created fear, What darts or poisoned arrows were
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All powerful money gives birth and beauty. [Lat., Et genus et formam regina pecunia donat.]
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Don't just think, do.
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When a man is just and firm in his purpose, The citizens burning to approve a wrong Or the frowning looks of a tyrant Do not shake his fixed mind, nor the Southwind. Wild lord of the uneasy Adriatic, Nor the thunder in the mighty hand of Jove: Should the heavens crack and tumble down, As the ruins crushed him he would not fear.
Horace