Let your literary compositions be kept from the public eye for nine years at least.
Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque revenit. You can drive nature out with a pitchfork, she will nevertheless come back.
Refrain from asking what going to happen tomorrow, and everyday that fortune grants you, count as gain.
Let us seize, friends, our opportunity from the day as it passes.
Tear thyself from delay.
He has hay upon his horn. [He is a mischievous person.]
In truth it is best to learn wisdom, and abandoning all nonsense, to leave it to boys to enjoy their season of play and mirth.
In the same [hospitable] manner that a Calabrian would press you to eat his pears.
He tells old wives' tales much to the point.
Painters and poets alike have always had license to dare anything! We know that, and we both claim and allow to others in their turn this indulgence.
Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?
I live and reign since I have abandoned those pleasures which you by your praises extol to the skies. [Lat., Vivo et regno, simul ista reliqui Quae vos ad coelum effertis rumore secundo.]
That destructive siren, sloth, is ever to be avoided.
Our years Glide silently away. No tears, No loving orisons repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair That drop forgotten to the tomb.
Sovereign money procures a wife with a large fortune, gets a man credit, creates friends, stands in place of pedigree, and even of beauty.
From the egg to the apple.
Who prates of war or want after his wine? [Lat., Quis post vina gravem militiam aut pauperiem crepat?]
The snow has at last melted, the fields regain their herbage, and the trees their leaves.
Many brave men lived before Agamemnon; but, all unwept and unknown, are lost in the distant night, since they are without a divine poet (to chronicle their deeds).
Death's dark way Must needs be trodden once, however we pause.
A wise God shrouds the future in obscure darkness.
When I struggle to be terse, I end by being obscure.
Books have their destinies.
Anger is a momentary madness.
One Sallow does not make Summer.
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