Vinicius looked awhile thoughtfully at a bronze faun which, bending over the arm of a nymph, was seeking her lips eagerly with his lips.
"He is right," said the young man.

"That is what is best in life." "More or less! But besides this thou lovest war, for which I have no liking, since under tents one's finger-nails break and cease to be rosy.
For that matter, every man has his preferences.

Bronzebeard loves song, especially his own; and old Scaurus his Corinthian vase, which stands near his bed at night, and which he kisses when he cannot sleep.

He has kissed the edge off already.

Tell me, dost thou not write verses ?" "No; I have never composed a single hexameter." "And dost thou not play on the lute and sing ?" "No." "And dost thou drive a chariot ?" "I tried once in Antioch, but unsuccessfully." "Then I am at rest concerning thee.