A guest never forgets the host who has treated him kindly.

And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.

One rogue leads another.

I war not with the dead.

Even when someone battles hard, there is an equal portion for one who lingers behind, and in the same honor are held both the coward and the brave man; the idle man and he who has done much meet death alike.

A boy without mischief is like a bowling ball without a liquid center.

Restrain yourself... and gloat in silence. I'll have no jubilation here. It is an impious thing to exult over the slain.