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You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.

Martial

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Martial
Complain
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Nothing
Shorter
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Swift

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He writes nothing whose writings are not read.
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The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar. It has obtained a worthy reward for its great toils we may suppose that the bee itself would have desired such a death.
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Be content to be what you are, and prefer nothing to it, and do not fear or wish for your last day.
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You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine, Sabellus, not to bathe.
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Life is not living, but living in health.
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Givers of great dinners know few enemies.
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Tis easy to write epigrams nicely, but to write a book is hard.
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Conceal a flaw, and the world will imagine the worst.
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A good man doubles the length of his existence to have lived so as to look back with pleasure on our past existence is to live twice.
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Life consists not merely in existing, but in enjoying health.
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That which prevents disagreeable flies from feeding on your repast, was once the proud tail of a splendid bird.
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He truly sorrows who sorrows unseen.
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He who writes distichs, wishes, I suppose, to please by brevity. But, tell me, of what avail is their brevity, when there is a whose book full of them?
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Some are good, some are middling, the most are bad.
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In adversity it is easy to despise life he is truly brave who can endure a writeched life
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It is as good as second life to be able to look back upon our past life with pleasure
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You may envy every one, but no one envies you.
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Remember, cobbler, to keep to your leather. [Lat., Memento, in pellicula, cerdo, tenere tuo.]
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You admire, Vacerra, only the poets of old and praise only those who are dead. Pardon me, I beseech you, Vacerra, if I think death too high a price to pay for your praise.
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Your page stands against you and says to you that you are a thief.
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