Nunc est bibendum!

Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us…

— Horace

“Finxerunt animi, raro et perpauca loquentis. (To action little, less to words inclinded.)”

— Horace

No verse can give pleasure for long, nor last, that is written by drinkers of water.

— Horace

Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind.

— Horace

A word, once sent abroad, flies irrevocably.

— Horace

“Natales grate numeras? (Do you count your birthdays with gratitude?)”

— Horace

In a moment comes either death or joyful victory. [Lat., Horae Momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta.]

— Horace

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - It is a sweet and becoming thing to die for ones country.

— Horace

Neither men, nor gods, nor booksellers' shelves permit ordinary poets to exist. [Lat., Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae.]

— Horace

Don't yield to that alluring witch, laziness, or else be prepared to surrender all that you have won in your better moments.

— Horace

Avoid inquisitive persons, for they are sure to be gossips, their ears are open to hear, but they will not keep what is entrusted…

— Horace

“You may drive out Nature with a pitchfork, yet she still will hurry back.”

— Horace

There is a proper measure in all things, certain limits beyond which and short of which right is not to be found. Who so…

— Horace

Never despair while under the guidance and auspices of Teucer.

— Horace

Alas, Postumus, the fleeting years slip by, nor will piety give any stay to wrinkles and pressing old age and untamable death.

— Horace