Like a girl, a baby running after her mother, begging to be picked up, and she tugs on her skirts, holding her back as she tries to hurry off—all tears, fawning up at her, till she takes her in her arms… That’s how you look, Patroclus, streaming live tears.

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

Do not beg me by knees or by parents you dog! I only wish I were savagely wrathful enough to hack up your corpse and eat it raw

But he whose inborn worth his acts commend, Of gentle soul, to human race a friend.

Shame greatly hurts or greatly helps mankind.

A small rock holds back a great wave.

Thou knowst the oer-eager vehemence of youth,How quick in temper, and in judgement weak.