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When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.

Martial

One genius has made many clever artists.
MARTIAL

Artist Genius Oneself
There is nothing more contemptible than a bald man who pretends to have hair.
MARTIAL

Hairs Man Myself Pretend
However great the dish that holds the turbot, the turbot is still greater than the dish.
MARTIAL

Food Greatness Hold Value
Who gives to friends so much from Fate secures, That is the only wealth for ever yours.
MARTIAL

Fate Friendship Secure Wealth Yourself
It is not he who forms idols in gold or marble that makes them gods, but he who kneels before them.
MARTIAL

Form God Gold Himself
A good man enlarges the term of his own existence.
MARTIAL

Existence Goodness Himself Man Term
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.
MARTIAL

Lake Luxury Myself Water
Conceal a flaw, and the world will imagine the worst.
MARTIAL

Flaw Imagination World Worst
It is as good as second life to be able to look back upon our past life with pleasure.
MARTIAL

Goodness Life Pleasure Sight
You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.
MARTIAL

Death Live Poet Praise Worth
It is feeling and force of imagination that make us eloquent.
MARTIAL

Elegant Feeling Force Imagination Ourselves
Neither fear your death’s day nor long for it.
MARTIAL

Day Death Fear Yourself
To-morrow I will live, the fool does say; To-day itself’s too late, the wise lived yesterday.
MARTIAL

Fools Future Past Wisdom
A vagrant is everywhere at home.
MARTIAL

Home One Liner
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.
MARTIAL

Boredom Face Love Missing Myself Togetherness
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

Admire Death Old Pay Poet Praise Price Thinking Yourself

When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.

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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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Popular Authors

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