Quotes from Homer

Afrodita, amante de la risa

and for all our grief we will hide our sorrows in our hearts, for weeping will not avail us. The immortals know no care, yet the lot they spin for man is full of sorrow.

never yet have they driven off my cattle, or my horses, nor ever in Phthia, where the rich earth breeds warriors have they destroyed my harvest

the goddess Calypso, who had got him into a large cave and wanted to marry him.

Stones and blows and I are hardly strangers. My heart is steeled by now, I've had my share of pain in the waves and wars. Add this to the total. Bring the trial on.

So his heart held firm and constant, but he writhed around, as when a man rotates a sausage full of fat and blood; the huge fire blazes, and he longs to have the roasting finished.

For many a Trojan, many a Greek, that day Prone in the dust, and side by side, were laid.

Oceanus, the genesis of all...

So the immortals spun our lives that we, we wretched men live on to bear such torments - the gods live free of sorrows. -Achilles to Priam

this is no horrible war of Achaians and Trojans, 380  but the Danaäns are beginning to fight even with the immortals.

One and the same lot for the man who hangs back and the man who battles hard. The same honor waits for the coward and the brave. They both go down to Death

For the more literal approach would seem to be too little English, and the more literary seems too little Greek. I have tried to find a cross between the two, a modern English Homer.

Then the guests620 entered the palace, bringing lamb and wine that gives one confidence.

scattering medicines that still pain, healed him, since he was not made to be one of the mortals.

Patroclus equal of Ares came out; and that was the beginning of his end.

Then at last his sorrowing wife detailed the horrors that befall those whose city is taken; she reminded him how the men are slain, and the city is given over to the flames, while the women and children are carried into captivity; when he heard all this, his heart was touched, and he donned his armour to go forth.

The tongue of a man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind, the range of words is wide, and their variance. The sort of thing you say is the thing that will be said to you.

he himself with high thoughts strode out in the foremost and hurled himself on the struggle of men like a high-blown storm-cloud which swoops down from above to trouble the blue sea-water.

Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus' son Achilles

With him at my side we'd go through fire and make it back alive.

O great shamelessness, we followed

You have a mind in you no magic can enchant!

The third man,' he answered, 'is Ulysses who dwells in Ithaca. I can see him in an island sorrowing bitterly in the house of the nymph Calypso, who is keeping him prisoner, and he cannot reach his home for he has no ships nor sailors to take him over the sea.

It has been placed under the northern pole, in Tartary.