There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
HomerRead
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.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the cyclical nature of life and mortality, comparing human existence to the changing seasons.
Homer draws a parallel between the life cycles of trees, with their leaves budding and falling, and the generations of humanity. Just as trees shed old leaves and prepare for new growth each spring, human life is marked by the birth of new generations and the passing of the old, emphasizing the natural cycle of life and death inherent in existence.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a memorial service to celebrate the cycle of life.
There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain,_x000D_ _x000D_ And twins ev'n from the birth are Misery and Man!
Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.
Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.
[I]t is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to sing at the top of his lungs, laugh like a fool β it drives the man to dancing... it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.
Night is beautiful when you are happy--comforting when you are in grief--terrible when you are lonely and unhappy.
How we experience memory sometimes, it's not linear. We're not telling the stories to ourselves. We know the story; we're just seeing it in flashes overlaid.
There can be no vulnerability without risk; there can be no community without vulnerability; there can be no peace, and ultimately no life, without community.
and for a moment he held out his hands as if to steady himself or as if to bless the ground there or perhaps as if to slow the world that was rushing away and seemed to care nothing for the old or the young or rich or poor or dark or pale or he or she. Nothing for their struggles, nothing for their names. Nothing for the living or the dead.
Never can a reforming sect survive if it is only reforming; the formative elements alone - the real impulse, that is, the principles - live on and on.
You can win the rat race but you're still a rat.
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