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With our own feathers, not by others' hands, Are we now smitten.

Aeschylus

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Aeschylus
Dramatist
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
Warrior
Elefsina
Æschylus
Aeschylos
Hands
Smitten
Feathers
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In the sinews of the dead there is no blood.
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Making it a valid law to learn by suffering.
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And now it goes as it goes and where it ends is Fate. And neither by singeing flesh nor tipping cups of wine nor shedding burning tears can you enchant away the rigid Fury.
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Human prosperity never rests but always craves more, till blown up with pride it totters and falls. From the opulent mansions pointed at by all passers-by none warns it away, none cries, 'Let no more riches enter!'.
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Overly persuasive a woman's ordinance spreads far, traveling fast but fast dying a rumor voiced by a woman perishes.
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For mortal kind taketh thought only for the day, and hath no more surety than the shadow of smoke.
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For the poison of hatred seated near the heart doubles the burden for the one who suffers the disease he is burdened with his own sorrow, and groans on seeing another's happiness.
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Time brings all things to pass.
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I pray the gods some respite from the weary task of this long year's watch that lying on the Atreidae's roof on bended arm, dog- like, I have kept, marking the conclave of all night's stars, those potentates blazing in the heavens that bring winter and summer to mortal men, the constellations, when they wane, when they rise.
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Time waxing old can many a lesson teach.
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Old men are always young enough to learn with profit.
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This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of a tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends.
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On him who wields power gently, the god looks favorably from afar.
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In war, truth is the first casualty.
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Courage! Suffering, when it climbs highest, lasts not long.
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Yet though a man gets many wounds in breast, He dieth not, unless the appointed time, The limit of his life's span, coincide Nor does the man who by the hearth at home Sits still, escape the doom that Fate decrees.
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God ever works with those who work with will.
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It is a light thing for whoever keeps his foot outside trouble to advise and counsel him that suffers.
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To mourn and bewail your ill-fortune, when you will gain a tear from those who listen, this is worth the trouble.
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Since long I've held silence a remedy for harm.
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