Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign, can match the fierce, the unutterable pain, he feels, who night and day, devoid… — Juvenal Copy Share Image
Man, wretched man, whene'er he stoops to sin, Feels, with the act, a strong remorse within. — 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
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