“Common sense among men of fortune is rare.”

Rare indulgence produces greater pleasure.

Nothing is more intolerable than a wealthy woman.

When talent fails, indignation writes the verse.

When did reason ever direct our desires or our fears?

No wicked man knows happiness, and least of all the seducer of others.

If nature’s inspiration fails, indignation will beget the poem.

Pray for a healthy mind in a healthy body.

Luck often raises vulgarity to a high position, to create mirth for the beholders.

It is a poor thing to lean upon the fame of others, lest the pillars give way and the house fall down in ruin.

Give them bread and circuses and they will never revolt.

A woman is most merciless when shame goads on her hate.

All wish to be learned, but no one is willing to pay the price.

Rare is the union of beauty and purity.

It is sheer madness to live in want in order to be wealthy when you die.

A lucky man is rarer than a white crow.

Is it a simple form of madness to lose a hundred thousand sesterces, and not have a shirt to give to a shivering slave?

Common sense is the most widely shared commodity in the world, for every man is convinced that he is well supplied with it.

It is a common failing of mortals to deem the more difficult the fairer.

It is not uncommon for people to spend their whole life waiting to start living.

Common sense ain’t common.

When men dream, each has his own world. When they are awake, they have a common world.

The truth of anything doesn’t matter anymore. What’s right doesn’t matter. What makes economic common sense doesn’t matter. I’m blue in the face over it.

Common sense is not so common.

Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell.