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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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Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.
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Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause.
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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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A decent boldness ever meets with friends.
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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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Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.
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There will be killing till the score is paid.
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Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade.
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The god of war is impartial: he hands out death to the man who hands out death.
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Come then, put away your sword in its sheath, and let us two go up into my bed so that, lying together in the bed of love, we may then have faith and trust in each other.
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A hunter of shadows, himself a shade.
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There is not any advantage to be won from grim lamentation.
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It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be.
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Come, Friend, you too must die. Why moan about it so? Even Patroclus died, a far, far better man than you. And look, you see how handsome and powerful I am? The son of a great man, the mother who gave me life-- A deathless goddess. But even for me, I tell you, Death and the strong force of fate are waiting. There will come a dawn or sunset or high noon When a man will take my life in battle too-- flinging a spear perhaps Or whipping a deadly arrow off his bow.
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Light is the task where many share the toil.
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And for yourself, may the gods grant you your heart's desire, a husband and a home, and the blessing of a harmonious life. For nothing is greater or finer than this, when a man and woman live together with one hear and mind, bringing joy to their friends and grief to their foes.
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His descent was like nightfall.
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Aries in his many fits knows no favorites.
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I discovered a meal between breakfast and brunch.
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And when long years and seasons wheeling brought around that point of time ordained for him to make his passage homeward, trials and dangers, even so, attended him even in Ithaca, near those he loved.
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How delicate her feet who shuns the ground, Stepping a-tiptoe on the heads of men.
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By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember.
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The melancholy joys of evils pass'd, For he who much has suffer'd, much will know.