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I was born to join in love, not hate - that is my nature.

Sophocles

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Sophocles
Playwright
Tragedy Writer
Writer
Kolonos
Born
Hate
Nature
Love
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More quotes by Sophocles

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Let every man in mankind's frailtyConsider his last day and let nonePresume on his good fortune until he findLife, at his death, a memory without pain.
Sophocles
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A human being is only breath and shadow.
Sophocles
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Best of children, sisters arm-in-arm, we must bear what the gods give us to bear-- don't fire up your hearts with so much grief. No reason to blame the pass you've come to now.
Sophocles
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It is best to live however one can be.
Sophocles
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There is some pleasure even in words, when they bring forgetfulness of present miseries.
Sophocles
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Wealth makes an ugly person beautiful to look on and an incoherent speech eloquent and wealth alone can enjoy pleasure even in sickness and can conceal its miseries.
Sophocles
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The sleep of a sick man has keen eyes. It is a sleep unsleeping.
Sophocles
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No more shall ye behold such sights of woe, deeds I have suffered and myself have wrought henceforward quenched in darkness shall ye see those ye should ne'er have seen now blind to those whom, when I saw, I vainly yearned to know.
Sophocles
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Profit is sweet, even if it comes from deception.
Sophocles
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Look how men live, always precariously balanced between good and bad fortune.
Sophocles
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Every man can see things far off but is blind to what is near.
Sophocles
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Rather fail with honor than succeed by fraud.
Sophocles
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For to cast away a virtuous friend, I call as bad as to cast away one's own life, which one loves best.
Sophocles
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Always desire to learn something useful
Sophocles
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Not knowing anything is the sweetest life.
Sophocles
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For most men friendship is a faithless harbor.
Sophocles
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If you are out of trouble, watch for danger.
Sophocles
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Pardon, and keep silent, for what is shameful for women must be concealed among women.
Sophocles
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For this I see, that we, all we that live, Are but vain shadows, unsubstantial dreams.
Sophocles
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Ah, race of mortal men, How as a thing of nought I count ye, though ye live For who is there of men That more of blessing knows, Than just a little while To seem to prosper well, And, having seemed, to fall?
Sophocles