Homer

Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep,even so I will endure_For already have I suffered full much,and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war.Let this be added to the tale of those.

But they could neither of them persuade me, for there is nothing dearer to a man than his own country and his parents, and however splendid a home he may have in a foreign country, if it be far from father or mother, he does not care about it.

What a lamentable thing it is that men should blame the gods and regard us as the source of their troubles, when it is their own wickedness that brings them sufferings worse than any which destiny allots them.

For I say there is no other thing that is worse than the sea is for breaking a man, even though he may a very strong one.

Take courage, my heart: you have been through worse than this. Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.

For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother

but sing no more this bitter tale that wears my heart away

And his good wife will tear her cheeks in grief, his sons are orphans and he, soaking the soil red with his own blood, he rots away himself__ore birds than women flocking round his body!

_and they limp and halt, they__e all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side, can__ look you in the eyes, and always bent on duty, trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin. But Ruin is strong and swift__he outstrips them all by far, stealing a march, leaping over the whole wide earth to bring mankind to grief.

Still, we will let all this be a thing of the past, though it hurts us, and beat down by constraint the anger that rises inside us.Now I am making an end of my anger. It does not become me, unrelentingly to rage on

Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war.

Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it__ born with us the day that we are born.

How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!

And empty words are evil.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things.

Too many kings can ruin an army

Reproach is infinite, and knows no endSo voluble a weapon is the tongue;Wounded, we wound; and neither side can failFor every man has equal strength to rail.

You, you insolent brazen bitch__ou really dare to shake that monstrous spear in Father__ face?