Homer

down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms

Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

She threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug which takes away grief and passion and brings forgetfulness of all ills

A councilor ought not to sleep the whole night through, a man to whom the populace is entrusted, and who has many responsibilities.

Goddess-nurse of the young, give ear to my prayer, and grant that this woman may reject the love-embraces of youth and dote on grey-haired old men whose powers are dulled, but whose hearts still desire.

Words empty as the wind are best left unsaid.

A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.

Of men who have a sense of honor, more come through alive than are slain, but from those who flee comes neither glory nor any help.

Which would you rather be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors?

It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be.

Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.

And would'st thou evil for his good repay?

I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown.

Wine gives strength to weary men.

There is no greater glory that can befall a man that what he achieves with the speed of his feet or the strength of his hands.

Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them.

A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.

Bear patiently, my heart, for you have suffered heavier things.

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.

From his tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey.