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The whims of youth break all the rules.
Old Night ... can overpower all gods and mortal men.
The man who fights the gods does not live long.
- One man is a splendid fighter -- a god has made him so --
- one's a dancer, another skilled at lyre and song,
- and deep in the next man's chest farseeing Zeus
- plants the gift of judgment, good clear sense.
- And many reap the benefits of that treasure.
The rage of kings is strong, they're nursed by the gods.
The same honor waits for the coward and the brave. They both go down to Death.
Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.
We battle on in words, as always, mere words, and what's the cure? We cannot find a thing.
Behold, on wrong
Swift vengeance waits.
HOMER, The Odyssey
Better to flee from death than feel its grip.
A shamefaced man makes a bad beggar.
HOMER, The Odyssey
A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time.
- But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
- With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn.
- Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
- My heart detests him as the gates of hell.
HOMER, The Iliad
Wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile.
HOMER, The Odyssey
Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair.
HOMER, The Iliad
The strength even of weak men when united avails much.
HOMER, attributed, Day's Collacon
Whatever sorrows may be thy doom, bear them with patience, if necessity entail them.
HOMER, attributed, Day's Collacon
Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow
For other's good, and melt at other's woe.
HOMER, The Odyssey
Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.
HOMER, The Iliad
The soul of man can never more be recalled when the spark of life has passed his lips.
HOMER, attributed, Day's Collacon
The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war and one the king.
HOMER, The Iliad
Rare gift! but oh, what gift to fools avails!
HOMER, The Iliad
But strong of limb
And swift of foot misfortune is, and, far
Outstripping all, comes first to every land,
And there wreaks evil on mankind, which prayers
Do afterwards redress.
HOMER, The Iliad
Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend;
And each brave foe was in his soul a friend.
HOMER, The Iliad
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.
HOMER, The Iliad
Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging impotence of woe.
HOMER, The Iliad
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