The Venus Throw: A Mystery of Ancient Rome

"Clodia is a sharp woman," he said. "More and more I long to meet her. If only my father didn't keep getting in the way."
"Clodia could eat us both for breakfast, suck out the marrow and turn our knucklebones into dice without batting an eye."
"That might be a memorable experience."

"I mean what I say, Papa." There was no levity in his voice. "I don't like it."
"Nor do I. But some paths a man must walk, taking whatever ways are opened to him by the gods."
"Well," said Eco with an edge in his voice, "I suppose a religious argument can put an end to any discussion."

The rare and beautiful things that wealth and power can buy are often only decorations to conceal the way that such wealth and power were attained.

The name stuck to Trygonion the way Trygonion sticks to Lesbia. I think of him whenever I consider castrating myself. It might do no good, you see. A useless gesture. Sometimes passion is stronger than flesh. Love can last beyond death, and in some rare instances a man's weakness for beauty can even outlive his testicles.

That is Rome's genius, to conquer the world and adapt it to her convenience.

Nasty rumors spread like olive oil, and leave a stain like red wine.

Silver buys votes, but only glory buys greatness.