Will cast the spear and leave the rest to Jove.
It is not right to glory in the slain
Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.
You, why are you so afraid of war and slaughter? Even if all the rest of us drop and die around you, grappling for the ships, you’d run no risk of death: you lack the heart to last it out in combat—coward!
I didn't lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!
It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be.