Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares; for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings.

The wine urges me on, the bewitching wine, which sets even a wise man to singing and to laughing gently and rouses him up to dance and brings forth words which were better unspoken.

All men owe honor to the poets - honor and awe; for they are dearest to the Muse who puts upon their lips the ways of life.

All the survivors of the war had reached their homes and so put the perils of battle and the sea behind them.

He lives not long who battles with the immortals, nor do his children prattle about his knees when he has come back from battle and the dread fray.

There is satiety in all things, in sleep, and love-making, in the loveliness of singing and the innocent dance.

Miserable mortals who like leaves at one moment flame with life eating the produce of the land and at another moment weakly perish.