The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.
Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
A decent boldness ever meets with friends.
...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure… For already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war. Let this be added to the tale of those.