Heaven Hears And Pities Hapless Men Like

Hateful To Me As Are The Gates Of Hell, Is He Who, Hiding One Thing In His Heart, Utters Another.

The Sun Rose On The Flawless Brimming Sea Into A Sky All Brazen-all One Brightening For Gods Immortal And For Mortal Men On Plowlands Kind With Grain.

It Is Not Right To Exult Over Slain Men.

There Is A Time For Many Words, And There Is Also A Time For Sleep.

The Hearts Of Great Men Can Be Changed.