I know these are nothing.
Martial (c.40 - c.102)
Contributed by: Zaady
Tomorrow's life is too late. Live today.
Virtue extends our days: he lives two lives who relives his past with pleasure.
What's a wretched man? A man whom no man pleases.
Neither fear your death's day nor long for it.
You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.
Life is not living, but living in health.
A man who lives everywhere lives nowhere.
You're obstinate, pliant, merry, morose, all at once. For me there's no living with you, or without you.
My poems are naughty, but my life is pure.
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