Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that's how a book of poems is made, my Friend.

If pale beans bubble for you in a red earthenware pot, you can often decline the dinners of sumptuous hosts.

Be cheerful, if you are wise.

Service cannot be expected from a friend in service; let him be a freeman who wishes to be my master.

You admire, Vacerra, only the poets of old and praise only those who are dead. Pardon me, I beseech you, Vacerra, if I think death too high a price to pay for your praise.

It is not he who forms idols in gold or marble that makes them gods, but he who kneels before them.

Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.