I long for home, long for the sight of home.
All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve.
It is not unseemly for a man to die fighting in defense of his country.
Among all men on the earth bards have a share of honor and reverence, because the muse has taught them songs and loves the race of bards.
Zeus it seems has given us from youth to old age a nice ball of wool to wind-nothing but wars upon wars until we shall perish every one.
The God of War will see fair play-he’s often slain that wants to slay!
Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year’s leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.
First you get the sugar, then you get the power, then you get the women.
All right, let’s not panic. I’ll make the money by selling one of my livers. I can get by with one.
We’re goin bowling. If we don’t come back, avenge our deaths.
Marge, when I join an underground cult I expect a little support from my family.
A companion’s words of persuasion are effective.
We mortals hear only the news, and know nothing at all.
The glorious gifts of the gods are not to be cast aside.
The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.
Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead.
Ill fares the State where many masters rule; let one be lord, one king supreme.
The windy satisfaction of the tongue.
Will cast the spear and leave the rest to Jove.
The ugliest man was he who came to Troy; with squinting eyes and one distorted foot.