Man loves malice, but not against one-eyed men nor the unfortunate, but against the fortunate and proud.

Your seventh wife, Phileros, is now being buried in your field. No man's field brings him greater profit than yours, Phileros.

Genuine is the sorrow endured without anyone else knowing about it.

It is to live twice when we can enjoy the recollections of our former life.

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.

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.

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