I pray the gods some respite from the weary task of this long year's watch that lying on the Atreidae's roof on bended arm, dog- like, I have kept, marking the conclave of all night's stars, those potentates blazing in the heavens that bring winter and summer to mortal men, the constellations, when they wane, when they rise.

But when once the earth has sucked up a dead man's blood, there is no way to raise him up.

If you pour oil and vinegar into the same vessel, you would call them not friends but opponents.

The will was of Zeus, the hand of Hephaestus.

For the mighty, even to give away is grace.

A prosperous fool is a grievous burden.

For know that no one is free, except Zeus.