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Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings. [Lat., Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres.]

Horace

Having no business of his own to attend to, he busies himself with the affairs of others.
HORACE

Affair Business Other People
The wolf dreads the pitfall, the hawk suspects the snare, and the kite the covered hook.
HORACE

Cover Lake Rivers Sea
Life gives nothing to man without labor.
HORACE

Give Labor Life Men
A man perfect to the finger tips.
HORACE

Finger Men Perfect
How slight and insignificant is the thing which casts down or restores a mind greedy for praise.
HORACE

Greedy Mind Praise
I have erected amonument more lasting than bronze.
HORACE

Appreciation Bronze Country People
There is a middle ground in things.
HORACE

Ground Latin Middle
There is no such thing as perfect happiness.
HORACE

Perfect Perfect Happiness
The good hate sin because they love virtue. [Lat., Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore.]
HORACE

Hate Sin Virtue
Seest thou how pale the sated guest rises from supper, where the appetite is puzzled with varieties? The body, too, burdened with I yesterday’s excess, weighs down the soul, and fixes to the earth this particle of the divine essence.
HORACE

Essence Soul Yesterday
He makes himself ridiculous who is for ever repeating the same mistake.
HORACE

Mistake Ridiculous Same
Scribblers are a self-conceited and self-worshipping race.
HORACE

Conceited Race Self
In a moment comes either death or joyful victory. [Lat., Horae Momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta.]
HORACE

Joyful Moment Victory
Leuconoe, close the book of fate, For troubles are in store, . . . . Live today, tomorrow is not.
HORACE

Book Fate Live Today
People hiss at me, but I applaud myself in my own house, and at the same time contemplate the money in my chest.
HORACE

Country House People
The short span of life forbids us to spin out hope to any length. Soon will night be upon you, and the fabled Shades, and the shadowy Plutonian home.
HORACE

Home Life Night

Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings. [Lat., Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres.]

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Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings. [Lat., Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres.]

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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