Gifts are like hooks.
A good man doubles the length of his existence; to have lived so as to look back with pleasure on our past existence is to live twice.
You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.
For wealth's now given to none but to the rich.
Hidden evils are most dreaded.
Your seventh wife, Phileros, is now being buried in your field. No man's field brings him greater profit than yours, Phileros.