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The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
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More quotes by Homer
youth is quick in feeling but weak in judgement.
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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.
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Short is my date, but deathless my renown.
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And endless are the modes of speech, and far Extends from side to side the field of words.
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I live an idle burden to the ground.
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I long for home, long for the sight of home.
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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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If you are very valiant, it is a god, I think, who gave you this gift.
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All things are in the hand of heaven, and Folly, eldest of Jove's daughters, shuts men's eyes to their destruction. She walks delicately, not on the solid earth, but hovers over the heads of men to make them stumble or to ensnare them.
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Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors?
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Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!
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out of sight,out of mind
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Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold Not all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold, Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway, Can bribe the poor possession of the day.
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I only hope those rumors I hear about what goes on in prison are greatly exaggerated.
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The single best augury is to fight for one's country.
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Better to flee from death than feel its grip.
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Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.
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Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.
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down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms
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Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills to most he mingles both.
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