Alas, Postumus, the fleeting years slip by, nor will piety give any stay to wrinkles and pressing old age and untamable death. — Horace Copy Share Image
I have reared a memorial more enduring than brass, and loftier than the regal structure of the pyramids, which neither the corroding… — Horace Copy Share Image
Years, following years, steal something every day; At last they steal us from ourselves away. — Horace Copy Share Image
Let your literary compositions be kept from the public eye for nine years at least. — Horace Copy Share Image
Let it (what you have written) be kept back until the ninth year. [Lat., Nonumque prematur in annum.] — 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
If anything affects your eye, you hasten to have it removed; if anything affects your mind, you postpone the cure for a… — Horace Copy Share Image
Our years Glide silently away. No tears, No loving orisons repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair That drop forgotten to the… — Horace Copy Share Image
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recedentes adimiunt. (The years, as they come, bring many agreeable things with them; as they… — Horace Copy Share Image
Not to hope for things to last forever, is what the year teaches and even the hour which snatches a nice day… — Horace Copy Share Image
Why do you hasten to remove anything which hurts your eye, while if something affects your soul you postpone the cure until… — 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