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I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged.
Martial
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More quotes by Martial
If fame comes after death, I'm in no hurry for it. [Lat., Si post fata venit gloria non propero.]
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The shameless Chloe placed on the tombs of her seven husbands the inscription, The work of Chloe. How could she have expressed herself more plainly?
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Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.
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Genuine is the sorrow endured without anyone else knowing about it.
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For life is only life when blessed with health.
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However great the dish that holds the turbot, the turbot is still greater than the dish.
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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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You may envy every one, but no one envies you.
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He truly sorrows who sorrows unseen.
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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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In adversity it is easy to despise life he is truly brave who can endure a writeched life
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Life is not merely to be alive, but to be well.
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This I ask, is it not madness to kill thyself in order to escape death? [Lat., Hic rogo non furor est ne moriare mori?]
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Such are thou and I: but what I am thou canst not be what thou art any one of the multitude may be.
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One genius has made many clever artists.
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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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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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For wealth's now given to none but to the rich.
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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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Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that's how a book of poems is made, my Friend.
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