Think not to match yourself against the gods, for men that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals.

It is not right to exult over slain men.

Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.

The best things beyond their measure cloy.

Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.

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

Ruin, eldest daughter of Zeus, she blinds us all, that fatal madness—she with those delicate feet of hers, never touching the earth, gliding over the heads of men to trap us all. She entangles one man, now another.