I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion.
Now you fear punishment and beg for your lives, so I will let you free, if not for any other reason so that you can see the difference between a Greek king and a barbarian tyrant, so do not expect to suffer any harm from me. A king does not kill messengers.
We of Macedon for generations past have been trained in the hard school of danger and war.
The end and object of conquest is to avoid doing the same thing as the conquered.
I am involved in the land of a leonine and brave people, where every foot of the ground is like a well of steel, confronting my soldier. You have brought only one son into the world, but everyone in this land can be called an Alexander.
I had rather excel others in the knowledge of what is excellent, than in the extent of my power and dominion.
I am dying with the help of too many physicians.
Are there no more worlds that I might conquer?
Heaven cannot brook two suns, nor earth two masters.
There are so many worlds and I have not yet conquered even one.
I send you a kaffis of mustard seed, that you may taste and acknowledge the bitterness of my victory.
A tomb now suffices him for whom the whole world was not sufficient.
Are you still to learn that the end and perfection of our victories is to avoid the vices and infirmities of those whom we subdue?
As for a limit to one’s labors, I, for one, do not recognize any for a high-minded man, except that the labors themselves should lead to noble accomplishments.
How great are the dangers I face to win a good name in Athens.
Shall I pass by and leave you lying there because of the expedition you led against Greece, or shall I set you up again because of your magnanimity and your virtues in other respects?
There is something noble in hearing myself spoken ill of, when I am doing well.
I foresee a great funeral contest over me.
I consider not what Parmenio should receive, but what Alexander should give.
At Achilles tomb, O fortunate youth, to have found Homer as the herald of your glory!
O Athenians, what toil do I undergo to please you!