Birds of a feather will flock together.
MARTIALYou 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.
More Martial Quotes
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Life is not living, but living in health.
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Too late is tomorrow’s life; live for today.
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Life consists not merely in existing, but in enjoying health.
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Life is not merely to be alive, but to be well.
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Nothing is more ill-timed than an ill-timed laugh.
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Red-haired, black-lipped, club-footed, and blink-eyed; if you’re a good man, you’re a wonder!
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However great the dish that holds the turbot, the turbot is still greater than the dish.
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If fame is to come only after death, I am in no hurry for it.
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It is feeling and force of imagination that make us eloquent.
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See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In amazement you will exclaim: Where could this possibly grow?
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There is no glory in outstripping donkeys.
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You’re obstinate, pliant, merry, morose, all at once. For me there’s no living with you, or without you.
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Your seventh wife, Phileros, is now being buried in your field. No man’s field brings him greater profit than yours, Phileros.
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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.
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While an ant was wandering under the shade of the tree of Phaeton, a drop of amber enveloped the tiny insect; thus she, who in life was disregarded, became precious by death.
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Be merry if you are wise.
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Conceal a flaw, and the world will imagine the worst.
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Tis easy to write epigrams nicely, but to write a book is hard.
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Genuine is the sorrow endured without anyone else knowing about it.
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Hidden evils are most dreaded.
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The face that cannot smile is never fair.
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I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged.
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The flaw which is hidden is deemed greater than it is.
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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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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 puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.
MARTIAL