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All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve.
Homer
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Homer
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Homerus
Homeros
Mæonides
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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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The rule Of the many is not well. One must be chief In war and one the king.
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I long for home, long for the sight of home.
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All my life I've been an obese man trapped inside a fat man's body.
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It is a wise child that knows his own father. [Lat., Nondum enim quisquam suum parentem ipse cognosvit.]
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Earth sounds my wisdom, and high heaven my fame.
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The wine urges me on, the bewitching wine, which sets even a wise man to singing and to laughing gently and rouses him up to dance and brings forth words which were better unspoken.
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Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing.
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Will cast the spear and leave the rest to Jove.
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I should rather labor as another's serf, in the home of a man without fortune, one whose livelihood was meager, than rule over all the departed dead.
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