Wine gives strength to weary men.
Ah, beer, my one weakness. My Achille's heel, if you will.
To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd, In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.
Among all men on the earth bards have a share of honor and reverence, because the muse has taught them songs and loves the race of bards.
It [revenge] is sweeter far than flowing honey.
In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
Take thou thy arms and come with me, For we must quit ourselves like men, and strive To air our cause, although we be but two. Great is the strength of feeble arms combined, And we can combat even with the brave.
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.
From now on walking is my beer and feeling good is my hangover.
It is equally bad when one speeds on the guest unwilling to go, and when he holds back one who is hastening. Rather one should befriend the guest who is there, but speed him when he wishes.
Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs.
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end.
Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood.
The bitter dregs of Fortune's cup to drain.
We mortals hear only the news, and know nothing at all.
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
By their own follies they perished, the fools.
I believe children are the future...which is why they must be stopped now!
Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
There will be killing till the score is paid.
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
And endless are the modes of speech, and far Extends from side to side the field of words.
Oall the creatures that creep and breathe on earth, there is none more wretched than man.
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.
A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.
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