Faults are soon copied.
You have played enough; you have eaten and drunk enough. Now it is time for you to depart.
No verse can give pleasure for long, nor last, that is written by drinkers of water.
Wherein is the use of getting rid of one thorn out of many?
Mediocrity is not allowed to poets, either by the gods or men.
While we're talking, envious time is fleeing: pluck the day, put no trust in the future