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You ask for lively epigrams, and propose lifeless subjects. What can I do, Caecilianus? You expect Hyblaen or Hymethian honey to be produced, and yet offer the Attic bee nothing but Corsican thyme?

When to secure your bald pate from the weather, You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather; He was a very wag, who to you said, "Why do you wear your slippers on your head?"

See how the mountain goat hangs from the summit of the cliff; you would expect it to fall; it is merely showing its contempt for the dogs.

Never think of leaving perfumes or wine to your heir. Administer these yourself, and let him have your money.

You crystal break, for fear of breaking it: Careless and careful hands like faults commit.

Can the fish love the fisherman?

A fisherman's walk: three steps and overboard.

A beau is one who arranges his curled locks gracefully, who ever smells of balm, and cinnamon; who hums the songs of the Nile, and Cadiz; who throws his sleek arms into various attitudes; who idles away the whole day among the chair of the ladies, and is ever whispering into some one's ear; who reads little billets- doux from this quarter and that, and writes them in return; who avoids ruffling his dress by contact with his neighbour's sleeve, who knows with whom everybody is in love; who flutters from feast to feast, who can recount exactly the pedigree of Hirpinus. What do you tell me? is this a beau, Cotilus? Then a beau, Cotilus, is a very trifling thing.

Whoever makes great presents, expects great presents in return.

Glory paid to our ashes comes too late.

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.

Joys do not stay, but take wing and fly away.

My suit has nothing to do with the assault, or battery, or poisoning, but is about three goats, which, I complain, have been stolen by my neighbor. This the judge desires to have proved to him; but you, with swelling words and extravagant gestures, dilate on the Battle of Cannae, the Mithridatic war, and the perjuries of the insensate Carthaginians, the Syllae, the Marii, and the Mucii. It is time, Postumus, to say something about my three goats.

I pleaded your cause, Sextus, having agreed to do so for two thousand sesterces. How is it that you have sent me only a thousand? "You said nothing," you tell me; "and this cause was lost through you." You ought to give me so much the more, Sextus, as I had to blush for you.

Be merry if you are wise.

To be able to look back upon one's past life with satisfaction is to live twice.

There are many different voice and languages; but there is but one voice of the peoples when you are declared to be the true "Father of your country."

The swifter hand doth the swift words outrun: Before the tongue hath spoke the hand hath done.

My books need no one to accuse or judge you: the page which is yours stands up against you and says, "You are a thief."

Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you to do, foolish man, with writings that convict you of theft? Why do you attempt to associate foxes with lions, and make owls pass for eagles? Though you had one of Ladas's legs, you would not be able, blockhead, to run with the other leg of wood.