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.

The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.

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

Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.

Nothing is more ill-timed than an ill-timed laugh.

Service cannot be expected from a friend in service; let him be a freeman who wishes to be my master.

Tomorrow's life is too late. Live today.