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The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.

Martial

I believe that man to be wretched whom none can please.
MARTIAL

Believe Man Myself Please
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?
MARTIAL

Book Himself Writing
Of no day can the retrospect cause pain to a good man.
MARTIAL

Day Goodness Man Pain
You are so pure in mind and heart, In aspect, too, so mild, I wonder that you ever could Implant your wife with child.
MARTIAL

Children Heart Mindset Myself Purity Wife
I do not hate the man, but his vices.
MARTIAL

Hate Himself Man One Liner Vice
Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.
MARTIAL

Content Language Need
Believing hear, what you deserve to hear: Your birthday as my own to me is dear. But yours gives most; for mine did only lend Me to the world; yours gave to me a friend.
MARTIAL

Believe Deserve Myself World
If I remember right, Aelia, you had four teeth; a cough displaced two, another two more. You can now cough without anxiety all the day long. A third cough can find nothing to do in your mouth.
MARTIAL

Anxiety Mouth Remember Right Yourself
Every bird that upwards swings Bears the Cross upon its wings.
MARTIAL

Animal Bird Wings
It is folly to waste labour about trifles.
MARTIAL

Fools Labour Wasted
If fame is to come only after death, I am in no hurry for it.
MARTIAL

Death Fame Hurry Myself
The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.
MARTIAL

Swan Tongue
Make it a point not to be over-fascinating.
MARTIAL

Fascination One Liner Point
When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.
MARTIAL

Attendant Crowd Elegant Loud Praise Yourself
I know all that better than my own name.
MARTIAL

Better Myself Name
Too late is tomorrow’s life; live for today.
MARTIAL

Day Life Present

The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.

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The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.

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