Not gods, nor men, nor even booksellers have put up with poets' being second-rate.
Luck cannot change birth.
Not treasured wealth, nor the consul's lictor, can dispel the mind's bitter conflicts and the cares that flit, like bats, about your fretted roofs.
Poets wish to profit or to please.
Money is a handmaiden, if thou knowest how to use it A mistress, if thou knowest not.
Life is largely a matter of expectation.