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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.

Aeschylus

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Aeschylus
Dramatist
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
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Elefsina
Æschylus
Aeschylos
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Tears
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Away
Burning
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Flesh
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Tipping
Fate

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ATHENA: You wish to be called righteous rather than act right. [...] I say, wrong must not win by technicalities.
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. . . it is yours women's to be silent and stay within doors.
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The saying goes that the gods leave a town once it is captured.
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Unions in wedlock are perverted by the victory of shameless passion that masters the female among men and beasts.
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Only when a man's life comes to its end in prosperity dare we pronounce him happy.
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Unjustly men hate death, which is the greatest defence against their many ills.
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Self-will in the man who does not reckon wisely is by itself the weakest of all things.
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God planteth in mortal men the cause of sin whensoever he wills utterly to destroy a house.
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God loves to help him who strives to help himself.
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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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Success! to thee, as to a God, men bend the knee.
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The words of truth are simple.
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For in pure maidens, knowing not the marriage-bed, the glance of the eyes sinks from shame.
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So in the Libyan fable it is told That once an eagle, stricken with a dart, Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft: With our own feathers, not by others' hands, Are we now smitten.
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Of all the gods only death does not desire gifts.
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I gave them hope, and so turned away their eyes from death
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The one knowing what is profitable, and not the man knowing many things, is wise.
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O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.
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The tongue of slander is too prompt with wanton malice to wound the stranger.
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