Hidden evils are most dreaded.

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.

To the ashes of the dead glory comes too late.

If my opinion is of any worth, the fieldfare is the greatest delicacy among birds, the hare among quadrupeds.

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

If you are poor now, Aemilianus, you will always be poor. Riches are now given to none but the rich.

Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.