You will not rightly call him a happy man who possesses much; he more rightly earns the name of happy who is… — Horace Copy Share Image
It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows how to use with wisdom the blessings… — Horace Copy Share Image
Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings. — Horace Copy Share Image
Few cross the river of time and are able to reach non-being. Most of them run up and down only on this… — Horace Copy Share Image
He has not lived badly whose birth and death has been unnoticed by the world. — Horace Copy Share Image
One night is awaiting us all, and the way of death must be trodden once. [Lat., Omnes una manet nox, Et calcanda… — Horace Copy Share Image
Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields of his fathers,… — Horace Copy Share Image
Day is pushed out by day, and each new moon hastens to its death. [Lat., Truditur dies die, Novaeque pergunt interire lunae.] — Horace Copy Share Image
Pale death with an impartial foot knocks at the hovels of the poor and the palaces of king. — Horace Copy Share Image
Pale death approaches with equal step, and knocks indiscriminately at the door of teh cottage, and the portals of the palace. — Horace Copy Share Image
Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us… — Horace Copy Share Image
“Finxerunt animi, raro et perpauca loquentis. (To action little, less to words inclinded.)” — Horace Copy Share Image
No verse can give pleasure for long, nor last, that is written by drinkers of water. — Horace Copy Share Image
Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind. — Horace Copy Share Image
In a moment comes either death or joyful victory. [Lat., Horae Momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta.] — Horace Copy Share Image
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - It is a sweet and becoming thing to die for ones country. — Horace Copy Share Image
Neither men, nor gods, nor booksellers' shelves permit ordinary poets to exist. [Lat., Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae.] — Horace Copy Share Image
Don't yield to that alluring witch, laziness, or else be prepared to surrender all that you have won in your better moments. — Horace Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
“You may drive out Nature with a pitchfork, yet she still will hurry back.” — Horace Copy Share Image
