All the dissolute rascals invite you to dinner, Phoebus. He whom impurity feeds is not, I opine, a spotless person.
I’m annoyed, my Lupercus for ages your friend – uninvited to dinner you’ve kept. I shall take my revenge. You may beg, coax, and send – “Well? And what will you do?” Why accept.
Philo declares he never dines at home, and that is no exaggeration: He has no place whereat to dine in Rome, Unless he hooks an invitation.
The only man who is really free is the one who can turn down an invitation to dinner without giving any excuse.
Am reserving two tickets for you for my premiere. Come and bring a friend – if you have one. (Telegram inviting Winston Churchill to opening night of Pygmalion. Churchill wired back, “Impossible to be present for the first performance. Will attend the second – if there is one.”)
You are invited to the festival of this world and your life is blessed.
When christian ministers stand up in their pulpits and say “Let us pray,” if they would sometimes vary the invitation and say: Let us laugh, they would do their congregations more good.
I must decline your invitation owing to a subsequent engagement.
Hear no evil, speak no evil – and you’ll never be invited to a party.
I don’t have to attend every argument I’m invited to.