Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.
…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.
Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.
There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.
Even a fool learns something once it hits him.
For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother
A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time
There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.
How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.
The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend as to find a friend worth dying for.
Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.
Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death
I didn't lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!
We men are wretched things.
Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share.
The journey is the thing.
Some things you will think of yourself,...some things God will put into your mind
Each man delights in the work that suits him best.
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.
There will be killing till the score is paid.
Life is largely a matter of expectation.
No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man's hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born.
My name is Nobody.
If you serve too many masters, you'll soon suffer.
The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.
...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.
Youth is quick in feeling but weak in judgement.
Why cover the same ground again? ... It goes against my grain to repeat a tale told once, and told so clearly.
No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.
Out of sight,out of mind
And empty words are evil.
Few sons are like their fathers--most are worse, few better.
There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.
Immortals are never alien to one another.
Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this.
Wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile
His descent was like nightfall.
Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause.
Here, therefore, huge and mighty warrior though you be, here shall you die.
Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!
Choose well.
Too many kings can ruin an army
Aries in his many fits knows no favorites.
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
Why have you come to me here, dear heart, with all these instructions? I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other's arms.
…but there they lay, sprawled across the field, craved far more by the vultures than by wives.
The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us.
Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
Tell me, O muse, of travellers far and wide
You, you insolent brazen bitch—you really dare to shake that monstrous spear in Father’s face?
By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember
He knew how to say many false things that were like true sayings.
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.
The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.
Down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms
Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?
It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be.
I have no interest at all in food and drink, but only in slaughter and blood and the agonized groans of mangled men
Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be more lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
Say not a word in death's favor; I would rather be a paid servant in a poor man's house and be above ground than king of kings among the dead." -Achilles
A small rock holds back a great wave.
Think not to match yourself against the gods, for men that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals.
I know not what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.
Have patience, heart.
I detest that man, who hides one thing in the depths of his heart, and speaks forth another
Do not beg me by knees or by parents you dog! I only wish I were savagely wrathful enough to hack up your corpse and eat it raw
But sing no more this bitter tale that wears my heart away
Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.
I say no wealth is worth my life.
Antilochus! You're the most appalling driver in the world! Go to hell!
A guest never forgets the host who has treated him kindly.
My every impulse bends to what is right
Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade.
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.
The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.
Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you to the field where men win fame.
A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.
Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that man skilled in all ways of contending, the wanderer, harried for years on end
...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.
But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me.
My life is more to me than all the wealth of Ilius
There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
Getting out of jury duty is easy. The trick is to say you're prejudiced against all races.
Young men's minds are always changeable, but when an old man is concerned in a matter, he looks both before and after.
...he'll never lie - the man is far too wise.
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.
Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war.
All men owe honor to the poets - honor and awe; for they are dearest to the Muse who puts upon their lips the ways of life.
And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you— it’s born with us the day that we are born.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things.
Always be the best, my boy, the bravest, and hold your head up high above all the others. Never disgrace the generation of your fathers. They were the bravest champions...
Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable
One omen is best; Defending the fatherland
Even the bravest cannot fight beyond his power
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—more birds than women flocking round his body!
It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know least, and talk most.
And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.
Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many devices
