Marcus Valerius Martial

Glory paid to our ashes comes too late.
[Lat., Cineri gloria sera est.]

Glory paid to our ashes comes too late.
[Lat., Cineri gloria sera est.]

You give me back, Phoebus, my bond for four hundred thousand
sesterces; lend me rather a hundred thousand more. read more

You give me back, Phoebus, my bond for four hundred thousand
sesterces; lend me rather a hundred thousand more. Seek some one
else to whom you may vaunt your empty present: what I cannot pay
you, Phoebus, is my own.

I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I
beat my cook for sending up read more

I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I
beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you
too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook
flogged.

While an ant was wandering under the shade of the tree of
Phaeton, a drop of amber enveloped the read more

While an ant was wandering under the shade of the tree of
Phaeton, a drop of amber enveloped the tiny insect; thus she, who
in life was disregarded, became precious by death.

I have granted you much that you asked: and yet you never cease
to ask of me. He who read more

I have granted you much that you asked: and yet you never cease
to ask of me. He who refuses nothing, Atticilla, will soon have
nothing to refuse.