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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.
Martial
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More quotes by Martial
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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I have not hated the man, but his faults.
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I am a shell-fish just come from being saturated with the waters of the Lucrine lake, near Baiae but now I luxuriously thrust for noble pickle.
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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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I have granted you much that you asked: and yet you never cease to ask of me. He who refuses nothing, Atticilla, will soon have nothing to refuse.
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You give me nothing during your life, but you promise to provide for me at your death. If you are not a fool, you know what I wish for!
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You should not fear, nor yet should you wish for your last day.
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If you have any shame, forbear to pluck the beard of a dead lion.
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Hidden evils are most dreaded.
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Service cannot be expected from a friend in service let him be a freeman who wishes to be my master.
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A novice always behaves with propriety.
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He writes nothing whose writings are not read.
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In adversity it is easy to despise life he is truly brave who can endure a wretched life. [Lat., Rebus in angustis facile est contemnere vitam Fortiter ille facit qui miser esse potest.]
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There is nothing more revolting than an old busybody.
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You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.
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I commend you, Postumus, for kissing me with only half your lip you may, however, if you please, withhold even the half of this half. Are you inclined to grant me a boon still greater, and even inexpressible? Keep this whole half entirely to yourself, Postumus.
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I do not love thee, Sabidius, nor can I say why I can only say this, I do not love thee.
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Man loves malice, but not against one-eyed men nor the unfortunate, but against the fortunate and proud.
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You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.
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Gifts are like hooks.
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