A good man enlarges the term of his own existence.

When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.

Red-haired, black-lipped, club-footed, and blink-eyed; if you're a good man, you're a wonder!

You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.

If you have any shame, forbear to pluck the beard of a dead lion.

Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are bald. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are carrotty. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are one-eyed. He who kisses you, Philaenis, sins against nature.

Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.