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But 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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Friend, many and many a dream is mere confusion a cobweb of no consequence at all. Two gates for ghostly dreams there are: One gateway of honest horn, and one of ivory. Issuing by the ivory gate are dreams of glimmering illusion, fantasies, but those that come through solid polished horn may be borne out, if mortals only know them.
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Suffering is but another name for the teaching of experience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmaster of life.
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The internet wasn't created for mockery, it was supposed to help researchers at different universities share data sets. It was!
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You, why are you so afraid of war and slaughter? Even if all the rest of us drop and die around you, grappling for the ships, you’d run no risk of death: you lack the heart to last it out in combat—coward!
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I'll get out of this city alive, even if it kills me!
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A small rock holds back a great wave.
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In youth and beauty, wisdom is but rare!
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A sound mind in a manly body.
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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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Bear patiently, my heart, for you have suffered heavier things.
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I war not with the dead.
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I've always wondered if there was a God. And now I know there is -- and it's me.
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Behold, on wrong Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong.
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Long exercised in woes.
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For afterwards a man finds pleasure in his pains, when he has suffered long and wandered long. So I will tell you what you ask and seek to know.
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The proof of battle is action, proof of words, debate. No time for speeches now, it's time to fight.
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Content to follow when we lead the way.
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All right, let's not panic. I'll make the money by selling one of my livers. I can get by with one.
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Young men's minds are always changeable, but when an old man is concerned in a matter, he looks both before and after.
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Let him submit to me! Only the god of death is so relentless, Death submits to no one—so mortals hate him most of all the gods. Let him bow down to me! I am the greater king, I am the elder-born, I claim—the greater man.
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Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise.
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Beware the toils of war ... the mesh of the huge dragnet sweeping up the world.
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You ought not to practice childish ways, since you are no longer that age.