To the ashes of the dead glory comes too late.
MARTIALA man who lives everywhere lives nowhere.
More Martial Quotes
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Be not too thick with anybody; your joys will be fewer, and so will pains.
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Short is the life of those who possess great accomplishments, and seldom do they reach a good old age. Whatever thou lovest, pray that thou mayest not set too high a value on it.
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Those they praise, but they read the others.
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Wine and women bring misery.
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What quick wit is found in sudden straits!
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I know all that better than my own name.
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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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In adversity it is easy to despise life; he is truly brave who can endure a wreched life.
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A man who lives everywhere lives nowhere.
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The African lions rush to attack bulls; they do not attack butterflies.
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Man loves malice, but not against one-eyed men nor the unfortunate, but against the fortunate and proud.
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No amount of misfortune will satisfy the man who is not satisfied with reading a hundred epigrams.
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To have nothing is not poverty.
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Live thy life as it were spoil and pluck the joys that fly.
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Fortune gives too much to many, enough to none.
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You admire, Vacerra, only the poets of old and praise only those who are dead. Pardon me, I beseech you, Vacerra, if I think death too high a price to pay for your praise.
MARTIAL -
The flaw which is hidden is deemed greater than it is.
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Whoever makes great presents, expects great presents in return.
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When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.
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I would not miss your face, your neck, your hands, your limbs, your bosom and certain other of your charms. Indeed, not to become boring by naming them all, I could do without you, Chloe, altogether.
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I am a shell-fish just come from being saturated with the waters of the Lucrine lake, near Baiae; but now I luxuriously thrust for noble pickle.
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If you are poor now, Aemilianus, you will always be poor. Riches are now given to none but the rich.
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You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.
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What’s a wretched man? A man whom no man pleases.
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If fame is to come only after death, I am in no hurry for it.
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The virtuous man is never a novice in worldly things.
MARTIAL