Quote

Ares ever loves to pluck all the fairest flower of an armed host.

Aeschylus

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Aeschylus
Dramatist
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
Warrior
Elefsina
Æschylus
Aeschylos
Armed
Host
Loves
Flower
War
Ever
Ares
Fairest
Pluck

More quotes by Aeschylus

Image
Time cleanses what it touches over time.
Aeschylus
Image
Long tarries destiny, But comes to those who pray.
Aeschylus
Image
Joy steals upon me, such joy as calls forth tears.
Aeschylus
Image
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.
Aeschylus
Image
Whenever a man makes haste, God too hastens with him.
Aeschylus
Image
Success is man's god.
Aeschylus
Image
Base men who prosper are unenviable.
Aeschylus
Image
Excessive fear is always powerless.
Aeschylus
Image
It is in the character of very few men to honor without envy a friend who has prospered.
Aeschylus
Image
God always strives together with those who strive.
Aeschylus
Image
Misfortune wandering the same track lights now upon one and now upon another.
Aeschylus
Image
To many mortals silence great gain brings.
Aeschylus
Image
Nothing forces us to know What we do not want to know Except pain
Aeschylus
Image
Obedience, you know, is Good Luck's mother, wedded to Salvation, they say.
Aeschylus
Image
The laws of a state change with the changing times.
Aeschylus
Image
Time in his aging overtakes all things alike.
Aeschylus
Image
This is the law: blood spilt upon the ground cries out for more.
Aeschylus
Image
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.
Aeschylus
Image
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!'.
Aeschylus
Image
When a man dies, flesh is frayed and broken in the fire, but not his will.
Aeschylus