Homer excels all the inventors of other arts in this: that he has swallowed up the honor of those who succeeded him.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.

He best can paint them who shall feel them most.

Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand.

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled,- The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.

The lot of man - to suffer and to die.

Only music has the ability to take you to the edge of reality and allow you to peek in for a moment.