When a man is just and firm in his purpose, The citizens burning to approve a wrong Or the frowning looks of… — Horace Copy Share Image
Nothing is difficult to mortals; we strive to reach heaven itself in our folly. [Lat., Nil mortalibus arduum est; Coelum ipsum petimus… — Horace Copy Share Image
Nothing is too high for the daring of mortals: we storm heaven itself in our folly. — Horace Copy Share Image
The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of those who covet… — Horace Copy Share Image
All else-valor, a good name, glory, everything in heaven and earth-is secondary to the charm of riches. — Horace Copy Share Image
Enjoy thankfully any happy hour heaven may send you, nor think that your delights will keep till another year. — Horace Copy Share Image
Let me posses what I now have, or even less, so that I may enjoy my remaining days, if Heaven grant any… — Horace Copy Share Image
Virtue, opening heaven to those who do not deserve to die, makes her course by paths untried. [Lat., Virtus, recludens immeritis mori… — Horace Copy Share Image
The muse does not allow the praise-de-serving here to die: she enthrones him in the heavens. — Horace Copy Share Image
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own: he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do… — 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