I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown.

Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born.

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

The strong must protect the sweet.

But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, for gentle ways are best, and keep aloof from sharp contentions.

They did not know her-gods are hard for mortals to recognize.

I don't know how much longer I can complain.