To marvel at nothing is just about the one and only thing, Numicius, that can make a man happy and keep him that way.
The covetous man is ever in want.
Anger is short-lived madness.
Drive Nature from your door with a pitchfork, and she will return again and again.
The poets aim is either to profit or to please, or to blend in one the delightful and the useful. Whatever the lesson you would convey, be brief, that your hearers may catch quickly what is said and faithfully retain it. Every superfluous word is spilled from the too-full memory.
Fortune, delighting in her cruel task, and playing her wanton game untiringly, is ever shifting her uncertain favours.