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Better to flee from death than feel its grip.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
Flee
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More quotes by Homer
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
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The sun rose on the flawless brimming sea into a sky all brazen-all one brightening for gods immortal and for mortal men on plowlands kind with grain.
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It is equally bad when one speeds on the guest unwilling to go, and when he holds back one who is hastening. Rather one should befriend the guest who is there, but speed him when he wishes.
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The gods give to mortals not everything at the same time.
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If you serve too many masters, you'll soon suffer.
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Restrain yourself... and gloat in silence. I'll have no jubilation here. It is an impious thing to exult over the slain.
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To-morrow we embark upon the boundless sea.
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As leaves on the trees, such is the life of man.
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There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.
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He lives not long who battles with the immortals, nor do his children prattle about his knees when he has come back from battle and the dread fray.
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A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.
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Nor can one word be chang'd but for a worse.
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There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.
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'T is fortune gives us birth, But Jove alone endues the soul with worth.
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Wine sets even a thoughtful man to singing, or sets him into softly laughing, sets him to dancing. Sometimes it tosses out a word that was better unspoken.
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For when two Join in the same adventure, one perceives Before the other how they ought to act While one alone, however prompt, resolves More tardily and with a weaker will.
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I am so smart. I am so smart. I am so smart. S-M-R-T ... Uh, I mean S-M-A-R-T.
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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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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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For never, never, wicked man was wise.
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