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For never, never, wicked man was wise.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
Wicked
Wise
Never
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Odyssey
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Victory passes back and forth between men.
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...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.
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One man is a splendid fighter -- a god has made him so -- one's a dancer, another skilled at lyre and song, and deep in the next man's chest farseeing Zeus plants the gift of judgment, good clear sense. And many reap the benefits of that treasure.
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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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I'm a rageaholic. I just can't live without rageahol.
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And now I'm using sarcasm, to confess the whole thing so later I could say I already told you.
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I hate To tell again a tale once fully told.
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Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing.
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Thou shalt not take moochers into thy hut?
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There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.
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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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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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Praise me not too much, Nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks Who know me.
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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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down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms
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It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair.
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Like a girl, a baby running after her mother, begging to be picked up, and she tugs on her skirts, holding her back as she tries to hurry off—all tears, fawning up at her, till she takes her in her arms… That’s how you look, Patroclus, streaming live tears.
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My wife's not some doobie to be passed around! I took a vow on our wedding day to bogart her for life.
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Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.
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