“Every bird that upwards swings Bears the Cross upon its wings.”

Be not too thick with anybody; your joys will be fewer, and so will pains.

Fortune gives many too much, but none enough.

There is nothing more revolting than an old busybody.

You may envy every one, but no one envies you.

A good man doubles the length of his existence; to have lived so as to look back with pleasure on our past existence is to live twice.

The face that cannot smile is never fair.

Of no day can the retrospect cause pain to a good man.

Those they praise, but they read the others.

No amount of misfortune will satisfy the man who is not satisfied with reading a hundred epigrams.

If you are poor now, Aemilianus, you will always be poor. Riches are now given to none but the rich.

A good man enlarges the term of his own existence.

The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.

However great the dish that holds the turbot, the turbot is still greater than the dish.

Work divided is in that manner shortened.

He truly sorrows who sorrows unseen.

My poems are naughty, but my life is pure.

What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to the soul.

In the valley of sorrow, spread your wings.

By words the mind is winged.

Words give wings to the mind and make a man soar to heaven.

A man can’t soar too high, when he flies with his own wings.

Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind.

We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.

For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.