Do thou restrain the haughty spirit in thy breast, for better far is gentle courtesy.

And here I am using my own lungs like a sucker.

I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.

O Friends, be men, and let your hearts be strong And let no warrior in the heat of fight, Do what may bring him shame in others' eyes

So, the gods don't hand out all their gifts at once, not build and brains and flowing speech to all. One man may fail to impress us with his looks but a god can crown his words with beauty, charm, and men look on with delight when he speaks out. Never faltering, filled with winning self-control, he shines forth at assembly grounds and people gaze at him like a god when he walks through the streets. Another man may look like a deathless one on high but there's not a bit of grace to crown his words. Just like you, my fine, handsome friend.

We cannot all hope to combine the pleasing qualities of good looks, brains, and eloquence.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things.