Ambition is not what man does... but what man would do.

Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.

When a man's busy, why leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure: 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.

That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened the next tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . .

He who did well in war just earns the right, To begin doing well in peace.

Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And Eschylus, because we read his plays!

Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.