Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign, can match the fierce, the unutterable pain, he feels, who night and day, devoid of rest, carries his own accuser in his breast — Juvenal Copy Share Image
Where have you ever found that man who stopped short after the perpetration of a single crime? — Juvenal Copy Share Image
Indignation leads to the making of poetry. [Lat., Facit indignatio versum.] — Juvenal Copy Share Image
The short bloom of our brief and narrow life flies fast away. While we are calling for flowers and wine and women, old age… — Juvenal Copy Share Image
Some men make money not for the sake of living, but ache In the blindness of greed and live just for their fortune's sake. — Juvenal Copy Share Image