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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.
Martial
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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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Make it a point not to be over-fascinating.
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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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Red-haired, black-lipped, club-footed, and blink-eyed if you're a good man, you're a wonder!
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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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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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Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.
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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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