Quote

No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man's hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born.

Homer

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Homer
Author
Poet
Writer
Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
Come
Iliad
Men
Hurry
Time
Coward
Escape
Brave
Hour
Hours
Born
Hades

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Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs.
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Blame the guy who doesn't speak Engish.
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Our fruitless labours mourn, And only rich in barren fame return.
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Trying is the first step toward failure.
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We battle on in words, as always, mere words, and what's the cure? We cannot find a thing.
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It never was our guise to slight the poor, or aught humane despise.
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The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for.
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[B]ut it is only what happens, when they die, to all mortals. The sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together, and once the spirit has let the white bones, all the rest of the body is made subject to the fire's strong fury, but the soul flitters out like a dream and flies away.
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Zeus it seems has given us from youth to old age a nice ball of wool to wind-nothing but wars upon wars until we shall perish every one.
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In saffron-colored mantle from the tides Of Oceans rose the Morning to bright light TO gods and men.
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Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead.
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Kids are great. You can teach them to hate what you hate and, with the Internet and all, they practically raise themselves.
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Too many kings can ruin an army
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Bad herdsmen waste the flocks which thou hast left behind.
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Earth sounds my wisdom, and high heaven my fame.
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The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.
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I hate To tell again a tale once fully told.
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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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down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms
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Whoever obeys the gods, to him they particularly listen.
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