Poverty urges us to do and suffer anything that we may escape from it, and so leads us away from virtue. — Horace Copy Share Image
Busy not yourself in looking forward to the events of to-morrow; but whatever may be those of the days Providence may yet… — Horace Copy Share Image
The populace may hiss me, but when I go home and think of my money, I applaud myself. — Horace Copy Share Image
Patience makes lighter / What sorrow may not heal. ("sed levius fit patientia quidquid corrigere est nefas") — Horace Copy Share Image
Get what start the sinner may, Retribution, for all her lame leg, never quits his track. — 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
The aim of the poet is to inform or delight, or to combine together, in what he says, both pleasure and applicability… — Horace Copy Share Image
I have lived: tomorrow the Father may fill the sky with black clouds or with cloudless sunshine. — 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
Why then should words challenge Eternity, When greatest men, and greatest actions die? Use may revive the obsoletest words, And banish those… — Horace Copy Share Image
Be brief, that the mind may catch thy precepts, and the more easily retain them. — Horace Copy Share Image
Avoid greatness in a cottage there may be more real happiness than kings or their favourites enjoy. — Horace Copy Share Image
Abridge your hopes in proportion to the shortness of the span of human life; for while we converse, the hours, as if… — Horace Copy Share Image
The poets aim is either to profit or to please, or to blend in one the delightful and the useful. Whatever the… — Horace Copy Share Image
The mob may hiss me, but I congratulate myself while I contemplate my treasures in their hoard. — Horace Copy Share Image
Who can hope to be safe? who sufficiently cautious? Guard himself as he may, every moment's an ambush. — Horace Copy Share Image
You may drive out nature with a pitchfork, yet she'll be constantly running back. — Horace Copy Share Image
He possesses dominion over himself, and is happy, who can every day say, "I have lived." Tomorrow the heavenly father may either… — Horace Copy Share Image
You may suppress natural propensities by force, but they will be certain to re-appear. — Horace Copy Share Image
Drop the question of what tomorrow may bring, and count as profit every day that Fate allows you. — 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
