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When a man dies, flesh is frayed and broken in the fire, but not his will.

Aeschylus

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Aeschylus
Dramatist
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
Warrior
Elefsina
Æschylus
Aeschylos
Men
Frayed
Flesh
Broken
Fire
Dies

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Know not to revere human things too much.
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The anvil of justice is planted firm, and fate who makes the sword does the forging in advance.
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This is the law: blood spilt upon the ground cries out for more.
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Know yourself and fit yourself to new fashions. For there is a new ruler among the gods.
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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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I gave them hope, and so turned away their eyes from death
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Time, waxing old, doth all things purify.
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If a man should wanton walk with crime ... he shall find in death no great deliverance.
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The people's awe and innate fear will hold injustice back by day, by night, so long as the people leave the laws intact, just as they are: muddy the cleanest spring, and all you'll have to drink is muddy water.
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It is always in season for old men to learn.
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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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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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Do not kick against the pricks.
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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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It is like a woman indeed To take rapture before the fact is shown for true. They believe too easily, are too quick to shift From ground to ground and swift indeed The rumor voiced by a woman dies again.
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The moving light, rejoicing in its strength, Sped from the pyre of pine, and urged its way, In golden glory, like some strange new sun.
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Black smoke, the flickering sister of fire.
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In the lack of judgment great harm arises, but one vote cast can set right a house.
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Long tarries destiny, But comes to those who pray.
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For this our task hath Fate spun without fail to last for ever sure, that we on man weighed down with deeds of hate should follow till the earth his life immure. Nor when he dies can he boast of being truly free.
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