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I, schooled in misery, know many purifying rites, and I know where speech is proper and where silence.

Aeschylus

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Aeschylus
Dramatist
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
Warrior
Elefsina
Æschylus
Aeschylos
Schooled
Proper
Misery
Speech
Silence
Rites
Many
Purifying
Rite

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Watchful are the Gods of all Hands with slaughter stained. The black Furies wait, and when a man Has grown by luck, not justice, great, With sudden overturn of chance They wear him to a shade, and, cast Down to perdition, who shall save him?
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Jars neither of wine nor of water shall fail in the houses of the rich.
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And one who is just of his own free will shall not lack for happiness and he will never come to utter ruin.
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By suffering comes wisdom.
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The cure is in the house, not brought by other hands from distant places, but by its own, in agony and blood.
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I have learned to hate all traitors, and there is no disease that I spit on more than treachery.
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The man who does ill, ill must suffer too.
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For in the voyage of the heart, there is a freight of hatred, and the wind of wrath blows shrill.
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Learning is ever in the freshness of its youth, even for the old.
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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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From a just fraud God turneth not away.
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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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Time brings all things to pass.
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By Time and Age full many things are taught.
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When a man dies, flesh is frayed and broken in the fire, but not his will.
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Memory is the mother of all wisdom.
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Whoever is just willingly and without compulsion will not lack happiness he will never be utterly destroyed.
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Know not to revere human things too much.
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Black smoke, the flickering sister of fire.
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In every tyrant's heart there springs in the end this poison, that he cannot trust a friend.
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