Emotions and Feelings

Love distills desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart of those he would destroy. I pray that love may never come to me with murderous intent, in rhythms measureless and wild. Not fire nor stars have stronger bolts than those of Aphrodite sent by the hand of Eros, Zeus’s child.

Love distills desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart of those he would destroy. I pray that love may never come to me with murderous intent, in rhythms measureless and wild. Not fire nor stars have stronger bolts than those of Aphrodite sent by the hand of Eros, Zeus’s child.

I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.

What greater grief than the loss of one’s native land.

My mother was accursed the night she bore me, and I am faint with envy of all the dead.

My mother was accursed the night she bore me, and I am faint with envy of all the dead.

God, these old men! How they pray for death! How heavy they find this life in the slow drag of days! And yet, when Death comes near them, You will not find one who will rise and walk with him, not one whose years are still a burden to him.

Never say that marriage has more of joy than pain.

It made our hair stand up in panic fear.

The good befriend themselves.

The greatest griefs are those we cause ourselves.

The tyrant is a child of Pride Who drinks from his great sickening cup Recklessness and vanity, Until from his high crest headlong He plummets to the dust of hope. 7

How dreadful knowledge of the truth can be When there’s no help in truth!

Love, unconquerable, Waster of rich men, keeper Of warm lights and all-night vigil In the soft face of a girl: Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor! Even the pure immortals cannot escape you, And mortal man, in his one day’s dusk, Trembles before your glory.

Love, unconquerable, Waster of rich men, keeper Of warm lights and all-night vigil In the soft face of a girl: Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor! Even the pure immortals cannot escape you, And mortal man, in his one day’s dusk, Trembles before your glory.

Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.

Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.

For God hates utterly The bray of bragging tongues.

I, whom proof hath taught of late How so far only should we hate our foes As though we soon might love them, and so far Do a friend service as to one most like Someday to prove our foe, since oftenest men In friendship but a faithless haven find. 3

For kindness begets kindness evermore, But he from whose mind fades the memory Of benefits, noble is he no more. 2

Nobly to live, or else nobly to die, Befits proud birth. 2

The pursuit, even of the best things, ought to be calm and tranquil.

Keep your face always towards the sunshine—and the shadows will fall behind you.

Keep your face always towards the sunshine—and the shadows will fall behind you.