A Quote by Martial

Who gives to friends so much from Fate secures, That is the only wealth for ever yours. [Lat., Extra fortunam est, quidquid donatur amicis; Quas dederis, selas semper habebis opes.]
It is doubtful what fortune to-morrow will bring. [Lat., Posteraque in dubio est fortunam quam vehat aetas.]
An honest man is always a child. [Lat., Semper bonus homo tiro est.]
Man should ever look to his last day, and no one should be called happy before his funeral. [Lat., Ultima semper Expectanda dies homini est, dicique beatus Ante obitum nemo et suprema funera debet.]
Be, as many now are, luxurious to yourself, parsimonious to your friends. [Lat., Esto, ut nunc multi, dives tibi pauper amicis.]
My hopes are not always realized, but I always hope. [Lat., Et res non semper, spes mihi semper adest.]
Ants do no bend their ways to empty barns, so no friend will visit the place of departed wealth. [Lat., Horrea formicae tendunt ad inania nunquam Nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes.]
The Romans assisted their allies and friends, and acquired friendships by giving rather than receiving kindness. [Lat., Sociis atque amicis auxilia portabant Romani, magisque dandis quam accipiundis beneficiis amicitias parabant.]
It is often a comfort in misfortune to know our own fate. [Lat., Saepe calamitas solatium est nosse sortem suam.]
Money is to be sought for first of all; virtue after wealth. [Lat., Quaerenda pecunia primum est; virtus post nummos.]
Those gifts are ever the most acceptable which the giver makes precious. [Lat., Acceptissima semper munera sunt auctor quae pretiosa facit.]
To the sick, while there is life there is hope. [Lat., Aegroto dum anima est, spes est.]
Our country is wherever we are well off. [Lat., Patria est, ubicunque est bene.]
It is pleasing to be pointed at with the finger and to have it said, "There goes the man." [Lat., At pulchrum est digito monstrari et dicier his est.]
Whenever monarchs err, the people are punished. [Lat., Quidquid delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi.]
Patience makes lighter / What sorrow may not heal. ("sed levius fit patientia quidquid corrigere est nefas")
Thou fool, what is sleep but the image of death? Fate will give an eternal rest. [Lat., Stulte, quid est somnus, gelidae nisi mortis imago? Longa quiescendi tempora fata dabunt.]
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!