Great Throughts Treasury

"When all the blandishments of life are gone the coward sneaks to death; the brave lives on."

"When Fannius from his foe did fly Himself with his own hands he slew; Who e'er a greater madness knew? Life to destroy for fear to die."

"When to secure your bald pate from the weather, You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather; He was a very wag, who to you said, "Why do you wear your slippers on your head?""

"When you try to conceal your wrinkles, Polla, with paste made from beans, you deceive yourself, not me. Let a defect, which is possibly but small, appear undisguised. A fault concealed is presumed to be great."

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

"Where McGregor sits, there is the head of the table."

"Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste is the same? But the partridge is dearer, and therefore thought preferable."

"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."

"While you cannot resolve what you are, at last you will be nothing."

"Who called thee vicious was a lying elf; thou art not vicious, for thou art vice itself."

"Who gives to friends so much from Fate secures, that is the only wealth forever yours."

"Who thinks it only frivolous flim-flam."

"Whoever makes great presents, expects great presents in return."

"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."

"Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumb-bells? To dig a vineyard is a worthier exercise for men."

"Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you to do, foolish man, with writings that convict you of theft? Why do you attempt to associate foxes with lions, and make owls pass for eagles? Though you had one of Ladas's legs, you would not be able, blockhead, to run with the other leg of wood."

"Wine and women bring misery."

"Wish to be what you are, and wish for no other position."

"Work divided is in that manner shortened."

"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."

"You are pretty,--we know it; and young,--it is true; and rich,-- who can deny it? But when you praise yourself extravagantly, Fabulla, you appear neither rich, nor pretty, nor young."

"You are sad in the midst of every blessing. Take care that Fortune does not observe--or she will call you ungrateful."

"You are too free spoken, is your constant remark to me, Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is indeed a free speaker."

"You ask for lively epigrams, and propose lifeless subjects. What can I do, Caecilianus? You expect Hyblaen or Hymethian honey to be produced, and yet offer the Attic bee nothing but Corsican thyme?"

"You ask what a nice girl will do? She won't give an inch, but she won't say no."

"You collect your straggling hairs on each side, Marinus, endeavoring to conceal the vast expanse of your shining bald pate by the locks which still grow on your temples. But the hairs disperse and return to their own place with every gust of wind; flanking you bare poll on either side with crude tufts. We might imagine we saw Hermeros of Cydas standing between Speudophorus and Telesphorus. Why not confess yourself an old man? Be content to seem what you really are, and let the barber shave off the rest of your hair. There is nothing more contemptible than a bald man who pretends to have hair."

"You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long. You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter."

"You crystal break, for fear of breaking it: Careless and careful hands like faults commit."

"You do not publish your own verse, Laelius; you criticize mine. Pray cease to criticize mine, or else publish your own."

"You give me back, Phoebus, my bond for four hundred thousand sesterces; lend me rather a hundred thousand more. Seek some one else to whom you may vaunt your empty present: what I cannot pay you, Phoebus, is my own."

"You give me nothing during your life, but you promise to provide for me at your death. If you are not a fool, you know what you make me wish for."

"You importune me, Tucca, to present you with my books. I shall not do so; for you want to sell, not to read, them."

"You invite no one except (someone) with whom you are bathed, Cotta and only baths provide guest(s) for you. I was wondering why you had never called me, Cotta: Now I know that nude me was displeasing to you."

"You manufacture, with the aid of unguents, a false head of hair, and your bald and dirty skull is covered with dyed locks. There is no need to have a hairdresser for your head. A sponge, Phoebus, would do the business better."

"You may envy everyone, but no one envies you."

"You often ask me, Priscus, what sort of person I should be, if I were to become suddenly rich and powerful. Who can determine what would be his future conduct? Tell me, if you were to become a lion, what sort of a lion would you be?Topic: Wealth"

"You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine, Sabellus, not to bathe."

"You pursue, I fly; you fly, I pursue; such is my humor. What you wish, Dondymus, I do not wish, what you do not wish, I do.Topic: Wishes"

"You put fine dishes on your table, Olus, but you always put them on covered. This is ridiculous; in the same way I could put fine dished on my table."

"You see those fish before you, a beautiful example of the sculpture of Phidias; give them water, and they will swim."

"You should not fear, nor yet should you wish for your last day."

"You utter all sorts of falsehoods, Pontilianus; I assent to them. You recite bad verses; I praise them. You sing; I do the same. You drink, Pontilianus; I drink also. You are rude; I pretend not to perceive it. You wish to play at chess; I allow myself to be beaten. There is one thing only which you do without me, and I hold my tongue on the subject. Yet you never make me the slightest present. "When I die," say you, "I shall remember you handsomely." I do not look for anything; but die."

"You were constantly, Matho, a guest at my villa at Tivoli. Now you buy it--I have deceived you; I have merely sold you what was already your own."

"You wonder that Marius' ear smells' unpleasantly. You are the cause of this, Nestor; you whisper into it."

"You'll get no laurel crown for outrunning a burrow."

"Your page stands against you and says to you that you are a thief."

"Your seventh wife, Phileros, is now being buried in your field. No man's field brings him greater profit than yours, Phileros."

"You're obstinate, pliant, merry, morose, all at once. For me there's no living with you, or without you."