I beseech you to treasure up in your hearts these my parting words: Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.
HoraceThere is a measure in everything. There are fixed limits beyond which and short of which right cannot find a resting place.
HoraceBe this our wall of brass, to be conscious of having done no evil, and to grow pale at no accusation.
HoraceWhere there are many beauties in a poem I shall not cavil at a few faults proceeding either from negligence or from the imperfection of our nature.
Horace