Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.

Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

Suffering is but another name for the teaching of experience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmaster of life.

Few sons are equal to their fathers; most fall short, all too few surpass them.

Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.

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