I wont let a wife lead me to the altar. [I will not have a wife that shall be my master.]

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.

I know all that better than my own name.

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

The swifter hand doth the swift words outrun: Before the tongue hath spoke the hand hath done.

Joys do not stay, but take wing and fly away.

I commend you, Postumus, for kissing me with only half your lip; you may, however, if you please, withhold even the half of this half. Are you inclined to grant me a boon still greater, and even inexpressible? Keep this whole half entirely to yourself, Postumus.