A Quote by Horace

How does it happen, Maecenas, that no one is content with that lot in life which he has chosen, or which chance has thrown in his way, but praises those who follow a different course? [Lat., Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo quam sibi sortem, Seu ratio dederit, seu fors objecerit, illa Contentus vivat? laudet diversa sequentes.]
Either a peaceful old age awaits me, or death flies round me with black wings. [Lat., Seu me tranquilla senectus Exspectat, seu mors atris circumvolat alis.]
Man is his own worst enemy. [Lat., Nihil inimicius quam sibi ipse.]
Nemo tam divos habuit faventes, Crastinum ut possit sibi polliceri. Nobody has ever found the gods so much his friends that he can promise himself another day.
That no one, no one at all, should try to search into himself! But the wallet of the person in front is carefully kept in view. [Lat., Ut nemo in sese tentat descendere, nemo! Sed praecedenti spectatur mantica tergo.]
One eye-witness is of more weight than ten hearsays. Those who hear, speak of shat they have heard; whose who see, know beyond mistake. [Lat., Pluris est oculatus testis unus, quam auriti decem. Qui audiunt, audita dicunt; qui vident, plane sciunt.]
None grieve so ostentatiously as those who rejoice most in heart. [Lat., Nulla jactantius moerent quam qui maxime laetantur.]
The wise man is wise in vain who cannot be wise to his own advantage. [Lat., Nequicquam sapere sapientem, qui ipse sibi prodesse non quiret.]
Donec finibus orci nec quam pulvinar, nec blandit sem rutrum. Nullam interdum augue et augue varius, quis cursus eros consequat. Maecenas dapibus feugiat lectus ac euismod. Suspendisse elementum lacus molestie ipsum mattis varius. Mauris porta turpis purus, at interdum magna varius quis.
The abject pleasure of an abject mind And hence so dear to poor weak woman kind. [Lat., Vindicta Nemo magis gaudet, quam femina.]
And so it happens oft in many instances; more good is done without our knowledge than by us intended. [Lat., Itidemque ut saepe jam in multis locis, Plus insciens quis fecit quam prodens boni.]
All the different ways God has chosen to display his glory in creation and redemption seem to reach their culmination in the praises of his redeemed people. God governs the world with glory precisely that he might be admired, marvelled at, exalted and praised. The climax of his happiness is the delight he takes in the echoes of his excellence in the praises of the saints.
Living is already having been born, in a condition we have not chosen, a situation in which we find ourselves, a quarter of the universe in which we may feel we have been thrown and are wandering, lost. And yet it is against this background that we can begin, that is to say, give a new course to things.
Death is the great Maecenas, Death is the great angel of writing. You must write because you are not going to live any more.
The director’s task is to recreate life, its movement, its contradictions, its dynamic and conflicts. It is his duty to reveal every iota of the truth he has seen, even if not everyone finds that truth acceptable. Of course an artist can lose his way, but even his mistakes are interesting provided they are sincere. For they represent the reality of his inner life, of the peregrinations and struggle into which the external world has thrown him.
I believe passionately that Christianity is a way of life, not a theological system with which one must be in intellectual agreement. I feel that Christ would admit into discipleship anyone who sincerely desired to follow him, and allow that disciple to make his creed out of his experience; to listen, to consider, to pray, to follow, and ultimately to believe only those convictions about which the experience of fellowship made him sure.
[That form of] eloquence, the foster-child of licence, which fools call liberty. [Lat., Eloquentia, alumna licentiae, quam stulti libertatem vocabant.]
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