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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.

Homer

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Homer
Author
Poet
Writer
Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
Men
Mortals
Gods
Brightening
Sky
Brimming
Rose
Brazen
Sea
Flawless
Sun
Mortal
Light
Grain
Kind
Immortal

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Ah, good ol’ trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die.
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See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing but their own folly.
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Thou shalt not take moochers into thy hut?
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Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing.
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I discovered a meal between breakfast and brunch.
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Shame greatly hurts or greatly helps mankind.
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She sent him a warm and gentle wind, and Lord Odysseus was happy as he set his sails to catch the breeze. He sat beside the steering oar and used his skill to steer the raft.
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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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I've gone back in time to when dinosaurs weren't just confined to zoos.
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It's disgraceful how these humans blame the gods. They say their tribulations come from us, when they themselves, through their own foolishness, bring hardships which are not decreed by Fate.
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The rest were vulgar deaths unknown to fame.
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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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Will cast the spear and leave the rest to Jove.
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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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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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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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Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, And drew behind the cloudy vale of night.
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The strong must protect the sweet.
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All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve.
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