Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.

Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another.

Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow for other's good, and melt at other's woe.

[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 – it drives the man to dancing... it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.

Pray, for all men need the aid of the gods.

Whenever a man is tired, wine is a great restorer of strength.

Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs.