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
men lasts degrees
To please great men is not the last degree of praise.
snow tree lasts
The snow has at last melted, the fields regain their herbage, and the trees their leaves.
life care lasts
In the midst of hopes and cares, of apprehensions and of disquietude, regard every day that dawns upon you as if it was to be your last; then super-added hours, to the enjoyment of which you had not looked forward, will prove an acceptable boon.
character lasts consistent
Let the character as it began be preserved to the last; and let it be consistent with itself.
thinking looks lasts
Think to yourself that every day is your last; the hour to which you do not look forward will come as a welcome surprise.
opportunity may lasts
Catch the opportunity while it lasts, and rely not on what the morrow may bring.
death lasts limits
Death is the last limit of all things.
wings lasts poverty
I praise her (Fortune) while she lasts; if she shakes her quick wings, I resign what she has given, and take refuge in my own virtue, and seek honest undowered Poverty. [Lat., Laudo manentem; si celeres quatit Pennas, resigno quae dedit, et mea Virtute me involvo, probamque Pauperiem sine dote quaero.]
death years lasts
Years, following years, steal something every day; At last they steal us from ourselves away.
giving curiosity lasts
At last some curious traveller from Lima will visit England, and give a description of the ruins of St. Paul's, like the editions of Baalbec and Palmyra.
giving lasts fool
Give fools the first and women the last word.
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