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Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
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Mæonides
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Reckless
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More quotes by Homer
We are quick to flare up, we races of men on the earth.
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It's disgraceful how these humans blame the gods. They say their tribulations come from us, when they themselves, through their own foolishness, bring hardships which are not decreed by Fate.
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I believe children are the future...which is why they must be stopped now!
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Be still my heart thou hast known worse than this.
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I'm in a place where I don't know where I am!
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Proud is the spirit of Zeus-fostered kings - their honor comes from Zeus, and Zeus, god of council, loves them.
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Of men who have a sense of honor, more come through alive than are slain, but from those who flee comes neither glory nor any help.
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The outcome of the war is in our hands the outcome of words is in the council.
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Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face: beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace.
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A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows One should our interests and our passions be, My friend must hate the man that injures me.
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Blame the guy who doesn't speak Engish.
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Light is the task where many share the toil.
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I'm a rageaholic. I just can't live without rageahol.
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It is equally wrong to speed a guest who does not want to go, and to keep one back who is eager. You ought to make welcome the present guest, and send forth the one who wishes to go.
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Death submits to no one.
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I'm not a bath man myself. More of a cologne man.
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There is satiety in all things, in sleep, and love-making, in the loveliness of singing and the innocent dance.
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Nobody gets into heaven without a glowstick.
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Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.
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Our fruitless labours mourn, And only rich in barren fame return.
Homer
