Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable.
I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man’s heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.
No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man’s hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born.
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.
Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood.
We men are wretched things.
I detest the man who hides on thing in the depths of his heart and speaks forth another.
This year I invested in pumpkins. They’ve been going up the whole month of October and I got a feeling they’re going to peak right around January. Then bang! That’s when I’ll cash in.
Not vain the weakest, if their force unite.
She spoke and loosened from her bosom the embroidered girdle of many colors into which all her allurements were fashioned. In it was love and int desire which steals the mind even of the wise.
A councilor ought not to sleep the whole night through, a man to whom the populace is entrusted, and who has many responsibilities.
Zeus does not bring all men’s plans to fulfillment.
Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies And sure he will for Wisdom never lies.
Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
The lot of man-to suffer and die.
To-morrow we embark upon the boundless sea.
But he whose inborn worth his acts commend, Of gentle soul, to human race a friend.
To labour is the lot of man below; And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.
Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above With ease can save each object of his love; Wide as his will extends his boundless grace.
Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.