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A shamefaced man makes a bad beggar.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
Shamefaced
Beggar
Shame
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Men
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Modesty is of no use to a beggar.
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Boy, those Germans have a word for everything!
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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.
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Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all in thee.
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To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd, In virtue rich in blessing others, bless'd.
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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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Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing.
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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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The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.
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Zeus most glorious and most great, Thundercloud, throned in the heavens! Let not the sun go down and the darkness come, until I cast down headlong the citadel of Priam in flames, and burn his gates with blazing fire, and tear to rags the shirt upon Hectors breast! May many of his men fall about him prone in the dust and bite the earth!
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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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And endless are the modes of speech, and far Extends from side to side the field of words.
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In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
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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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