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.

I do not hate the man, but his vices.

A cook should double one sense have: for he Should taster for himself and master be.

Make it a point not to be over-fascinating.

He truly sorrows who sorrows unseen.

I have granted you much that you asked: and yet you never cease to ask of me. He who refuses nothing, Atticilla, will soon have nothing to refuse.

Wine and women bring misery.