It's about time trees were good for something, instead of just standing there like jerks!
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.
Everything flows and nothing stays.
The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.
Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause.
The lot of man-to suffer and die.