All your female friends are either old or ugly; nay, more ugly than old women usually are. These you lead about in your train, and drag with you to feasts, porticos and theaters. Thus, Fabulla, you seem handsome, thus you seem young.

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

Tis easy to write epigrams nicely, but to write a book is hard.

I know all that better than my own name.

Too late is tomorrow's life; live for today.

If you want him to mourn, you had best leave him nothing.

While an ant was wandering under the shade of the tree of Phaeton, a drop of amber enveloped the tiny insect; thus she, who in life was disregarded, became precious by death.