Kids are great. You can teach them to hate what you hate and, with the Internet and all, they practically raise themselves.

Few sons are like their fathers - many are worse, few better.

Nor can one word be chang'd but for a worse.

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

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

And woe succeeds woe.

Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.