Every epigram should resemble a bee; it should have sting, honey, and brevity.
Birdes of a feather will flocke togither.
Do you ask what sort of a maid I desire or dislike, Flaccus? I dislike one too easy and one too coy. The just mean, which lies between the two extremes, is what I approve; I like neither that which tortures nor that which cloys.
What's a wretched man? A man whom no man pleases.
Some things are good, some middling, more bad.
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.