As a bull roars when feeding in the field, so roared the goodly door touched by the key and open flew before her.
But when he spoke, that great voice of his poured out of his chest in words like the snowflakes of winter, and then no other mortal could in debate contend with Odysseus. Nor did we care any longer how he looked.
For lo? my words no fancied woes relate; I speak from science and the voice of fate.
In The Odyssey, we find instead the story of a man whose grand adventure is simply to go back to his own home, where he tries to turn everything back to the way it was before he went away. For this hero, mere survival is the most amazing feat of all.
Grief wrapped around her, eating at her heart. The house was full of chairs but she could not bear to sit upright.
If something rude of any kind was said, let the winds take it.
The spearhead sliced right through to the flesh, And when Diomedes pulled it out, Ares yelled, so loud you would have thought Ten thousand warriors had shouted at once, And the sound reverberated in the guts of Greeks and Trojans, As if Diomedes had struck not a god in armor But a bronze gong nine miles high.
Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its demands.
Whene’er, by Jove’s decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.
Goddess,... do not be angry with me about this. I am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing else.
Then in anger divine Aphrodite addressed her: “Do not provoke me, wicked girl, lest I drop you in anger, and hate you as much as I now terribly love you, and devise painful hostilities, and you are caught in the middle of both, Trojans and Danaans, and are destroyed by an evil fate.” So she spoke; and Helen born of Zeus was frightened; and.
Iron has powers to draw a man to ruin.
Far from the hateful cause of all his woes. Neleus his treasures one long year detains, As long he groan’d in Philacus’ chains: Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined For lovely Pero rack’d his labouring mind!
Better to be the hireling of a stranger, and serve a man of mean estate whose living is but small, than be the ruler over all these dead and gone.
The race of men is like the race of leaves. As one generation flourishes, another decays.
It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps, contributed more to the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than any other three writers who could be named, and yet the history of all three has given rise to a boundless ocean of discussion, which has left us little save the option of choosing which theory or theories we will follow.
It was the gray sea that bore you and the towering rocks, so sheer the heart in you is turned from us.
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.
Yet if our chief for plunder only fight, The spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite, Whene’er, by Jove’s decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.
A man who has suffered much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows.