He who writes distichs, wishes, I suppose, to please by brevity. But, tell me, of what avail is their brevity, when there is a whose book full of them?
MARTIALI believe that man to be wretched whom none can please.
More Martial Quotes
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You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.
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Be satisfied, and pleased with what thou art, Act cheerfully and well thou allotted part; Enjoy the present hour, be thankful for the past, And neither fear, nor wish, the approaches of the last.
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Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are bald. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are carrotty. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are one-eyed. He who kisses you, Philaenis, sins against nature.
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Live thy life as it were spoil and pluck the joys that fly.
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It is not he who forms idols in gold or marble that makes them gods, but he who kneels before them.
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My poems are naughty, but my life is pure.
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Work divided is in that manner shortened.
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One genius has made many clever artists.
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Fortune gives too much to many, enough to none.
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Too late is tomorrow’s life; live for today.
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Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.
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It is not, believe me, the act of a wise man to say, “I will live.” To-morrow’s life is too late; live to-day.
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If fame is to come only after death, I am in no hurry for it.
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If my opinion is of any worth, the fieldfare is the greatest delicacy among birds, the hare among quadrupeds.
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She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.
MARTIAL