Sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, unwakeful, most pleasant, the nearest like death.

She sent him a warm and gentle wind, and Lord Odysseus was happy as he set his sails to catch the breeze. He sat beside the steering oar and used his skill to steer the raft.

...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.

It is better to watch people do stuff than to do stuff.

There is a fullness of all things, even of sleep and love.

Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies And sure he will for Wisdom never lies.

Clanless, lawless, homeless is he who is in love with civil war, that brutal ferocious thing.