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My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing: Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountainside Let freedom ring. My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills. My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Let music swell the breeze And ring from all the trees Sweet freedoms song; Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong. Our fathers' God, to thee, Author of liberty, To thee I sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King! Samuel Francis Smith		Tuesday Feb 03, 2026
		Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969

About Marcus Valerius Martialis

	Marcus Valerius Martialis
	(c.40-c.102) Roman epigrammatist, poet, friend of Juvenal, had patronage of Titus & Domitian.

Popular Marcus Valerius Martialis Quotes

You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.

Neither fear your deaths day nor long for it.

What's a wretched man? A man whom no man pleases.

Virtue extends our days: he lives two lives who relives his past with pleasure.

Tomorrows life is too late. Live today.

I know these are nothing.

Stop abusing my verses, or publish some of your own.

The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.

If pale beans bubble for you in a red earthenware pot You can oft decline the dinners of sumptuous hosts.

You'll get no laurel crown for outrunning a burrow.

You ask what a nice girl will do? She won't give an inch, but she won't say no.

My poems are naughty, but my life is pure.

You're obstinate, pliant, merry, morose, all at once. For me there's no living with you, or without you.

A man who lives everywhere lives nowhere.

Life is not living, but living in health.

You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.

I don't like you, Sabidius, I can't say why; But I can say this: I don't like you, Sabidius

The flaw which is hidden is deemed greater than it is.

A good man doubles the length of his existence; to have lived so as to look back with pleasure on our past life is to live twice.

Each day provides its own gifts.

Our days pass by, and are scored against us.

The country in town.

Conceal a flaw, and the world will imagine the worst

Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that's how a book of poems is made, my Friend.

There is no glory in outstripping donkeys.

To be able to look back on ones past life with satisfaction is to live twice.

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