The Melancholy Joys Of Evils Pass'd, For

Zeus Does Not Bring All Men's Plans To Fulfillment.

Servants, When Their Lords No Longer Sway, Their Minds No More To Righteous Courses Bend.

Blame The Guy Who Doesn't Speak Engish.

I Would Rather Be A Serf In A Poor Man's House And Be Above Ground Than Reign Among The Dead.

You, Why Are You So Afraid Of War And Slaughter? Even If All The Rest Of Us Drop And Die Around You, Grappling For The Ships, You’d Run No Risk Of Death: You Lack The Heart To Last It Out In Combat—coward!