Achilles Absent Was Achilles Still!

We Men Are Wretched Things.

There Is Satiety In All Things, In Sleep, And Love-making, In The Loveliness Of Singing And The Innocent Dance.

Once Harm Has Been Done, Even A Fool Understands It.

A Little Child Born Yesterday A Thing On Mother's Milk And Kisses Fed.

Is He Not Sacred, Even To The Gods, The Wandering Man Who Comes In Weariness?