Homer

Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good; from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills; to most he mingles both.

How vain, without the merit, is the name.

A decent boldness ever meets with friends.

For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.

There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.

Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this.

Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another.

...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.

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.

Young men's minds are always changeable, but when an old man is concerned in a matter, he looks both before and after.

Tell me, O muse, of travellers far and wide

Why cover the same ground again? ... It goes against my grain to repeat a tale told once, and told so clearly.

Each man delights in the work that suits him best.

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.

Here, therefore, huge and mighty warrior though you be, here shall you die.

Even a fool learns something once it hits him.