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down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
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More quotes by Homer
Uncontrollable laughter arose among the blessed gods.
Homer
This is the way I've always thought it should be. We've always blamed ourselves, but I guess we know what cylinder wasn't firing!
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I can't even say the word 'titmouse' without giggling like a schoolgirl.
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Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings.
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Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable
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It is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave.
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Thou shalt not take moochers into thy hut?
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Good things don't end in -eum they end in -mania or -teria.
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Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all in thee.
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Friend, many and many a dream is mere confusion a cobweb of no consequence at all. Two gates for ghostly dreams there are: One gateway of honest horn, and one of ivory. Issuing by the ivory gate are dreams of glimmering illusion, fantasies, but those that come through solid polished horn may be borne out, if mortals only know them.
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Do not mourn the dead with the belly.
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...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.
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Nor can one word be chang'd but for a worse.
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Everything flows and nothing stays.
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The rule Of the many is not well. One must be chief In war and one the king.
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Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in the bosom of a man like smoke.
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Sleep and Death, who are twin brothers.
Homer
Too many kings can ruin an army
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Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow
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O friends, be men so act that none may feel Ashamed to meet the eyes of other men. Think each one of this children and his wife, His home, his parents, living yet and dead. For them, the absent ones, I supplicate, And bid you rally here, and scorn to fly.
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