Abridge your hopes in proportion to the shortness of the span of human life; for while we converse, the hours, as if envious of our pleasure, fly away: enjoy, therefore, the present time, and trust not too much to what to-morrow may produce.
Capture the day, put minimum trust on tomorrow.
If you drive nature out with a pitchfork, she will soon find a way back.
That I make poetry and give pleasure - if I give pleasure - are because of you.
It is difficult to administer properly what belongs to all in common.
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.