He Lives Not Long Who Battles With

Praise Me Not Too Much, Nor Blame Me, For Thou Speakest To The Greeks Who Know Me.

Come, Friend, You Too Must Die. Why Moan About It So? Even Patroclus Died, A Far, Far Better Man Than You. And Look, You See How Handsome And Powerful I Am? The Son Of A Great Man, The Mother Who Gave Me Life-- A Deathless Goddess. But Even For Me, I Tell You, Death And The Strong Force Of Fate Are Waiting. There Will Come A Dawn Or Sunset Or High Noon When A Man Will Take My Life In Battle Too-- Flinging A Spear Perhaps Or Whipping A Deadly Arrow Off His Bow.

Behold, On Wrong Swift Vengeance Waits; And Art Subdues The Strong.

I'm Not A Bath Man Myself. More Of A Cologne Man.

The Windy Satisfaction Of The Tongue.