Horace
Horace
Quintus Horatius Flaccus, known in the English-speaking world as Horace, was the leading Roman lyric poet during the time of Augustus. The rhetorician Quintilian regarded his Odes as just about the only Latin lyrics worth reading: "He can be lofty sometimes, yet he is also full of charm and grace, versatile in his figures, and felicitously daring in his choice of words."...
NationalityRoman
ProfessionPoet
home evil shrews
In an evil hour thou bring'st her home. [You are marrying a shrew.]
home thinking may
The populace may hiss me, but when I go home and think of my money, I applaud myself.
sweet drink homeland
It is sweet and right to die for the homeland, but it is sweeter to live for the homeland, and the sweetest to drink for it. Therefore, let us drink to the health of the homeland.
home men nails
A man polished to the nail. [Lat., Ad unguem factus home.]
life home night
The short span of life forbids us to spin out hope to any length. Soon will night be upon you, and the fabled Shades, and the shadowy Plutonian home.
home sunset mind
I can never forget suffering and I will never forget sunset. I came home with all of it in my mind.
home lesson mind reach saying smile spoken strikes truth wit
Often the truth spoken with a smile will penetrate the mind and reach the heart; the lesson strikes home without wounding because of the wit in the saying
friendship home house
A house without a roof would scarcely be a more different home, than a family unsheltered by God's friendship, and the sense of being always rested in His providential care and guidance.
home west faces
If you have no family or friends to aid you . . . turn your face to the Great West and there build up your home and fortune.
love home light
Love--that divine fire which was made to light and warm the temple of home--sometimes burns at unholy altars.
home amulets poor
Above all, let the poor hang up the amulet of temperance in their homes.
guilty pale secrets turn wall
Be this your wall of brass, to have no guilty secrets, no wrong-doing that makes you turn pale
struggle
I struggle to be brief, and I become obscure.
died pride vain
Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride! They had no poet, and they died