I’m not gay, but I’ll learn...
Singing is the lowest form of communication.
There is a strength in the even of very sorry men.
Achilles absent was Achilles still!
The generation of mankind is like the generation of leaves. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the living tree burgeons with leaves again in the spring.
Know from the bounteous heaven all riches flow.
We all scribble poetry.
A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.
It is not good to have a rule of many.
And would’st thou evil for his good repay?
From his tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey.
If you don’t like your job, you don’t strike! You just go in every day, and do it really half assed. That’s the American way.
I war not with the dead.
I am a part of all that I have met. Yet, experience is an arch wherethro gleams that untravl’d world whose margin fades forever and forever when I move.
Dreams are sent by God.
Goddess-nurse of the young, give ear to my prayer, and grant that this woman may reject the love-embraces of youth and dote on grey-haired old men whose powers are dulled, but whose hearts still desire.
By mutual confidence and mutual aid – great deeds are done, and great discoveries made.
She threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug which takes away grief and passion and brings forgetfulness of all ills.
Wine sets even a thoughtful man to singing, or sets him into softly laughing, sets him to dancing. Sometimes it tosses out a word that was better unspoken.
Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors?