Ah, beer, my one weakness. My Achille's heel, if you will.
But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me.
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.
It is not unseemly for a man to die fighting in defense of his country.
But you can't stop at one, you wanna drink another woman!
I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown.