Top 523 Quotes & Sayings by Homer - Page 3

Jove lifts the golden balances that show The fates of mortal men, and things below.

...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.

Pine needle sorbet? Pine needle sorbet?! My kids do NOT eat sorbet. They eat sherbet, and they pronounce it sherbert, and they wish it was ice cream!

Zeus most glorious and most great, Thundercloud, throned in the heavens! Let not the sun go down and the darkness come, until I cast down headlong the citadel of Priam in flames, and burn his gates with blazing fire, and tear to rags the shirt upon Hectors breast! May many of his men fall about him prone in the dust and bite the earth!

Fate is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he fights hard. We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. A man dies still if he has done nothing, as the one who has done much.

I've always wondered if there was a God. And now I know there is -- and it's me.

Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.

Noble and manly music invigorates the spirit, strengthens the wavering man, and incites him to great and worthy deeds.

Ruin, eldest daughter of Zeus, she blinds us all, that fatal madness—she with those delicate feet of hers, never touching the earth, gliding over the heads of men to trap us all. She entangles one man, now another.

How delicate her feet who shuns the ground, Stepping a-tiptoe on the heads of men.

Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares; for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings.

Goddess-nurse of the young, give ear to my prayer, and grant that this woman may reject the love-embraces of youth and dote on grey-haired old men whose powers are dulled, but whose hearts still desire.

The Simpsons are going to Delaware!

He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before.

I'll teach you to laugh at something that's funny!

I would rather be a serf in a poor man's house and be above ground than reign among the dead.

Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in the bosom of a man like smoke.

…but there they lay, sprawled across the field, craved far more by the vultures than by wives.

I long for home, long for the sight of home.

The best things beyond their measure cloy.

Marge, when I join an underground cult I expect a little support from my family.

Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.

Oh, everything looks bad if you remember it.

Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies And sure he will for Wisdom never lies.

Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.

What greater glory attends a man than what he wins with his racing feet and his striving hands?

But you, Achilles,/ There is not a man in the world more blest than you--/ There never has been, never will be one./ Time was, when you were alive, we Argives/ honored you as a god, and now down here, I see/ You Lord it over the dead in all your power./ So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles.’ I reassured the ghost, but he broke out protesting,/ ‘No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus!/ By god, I’d rather slave on earth for another man--/ Some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive—than rule down here over all the breathless dead.

See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing but their own folly.

It is equally bad when one speeds on the guest unwilling to go, and when he holds back one who is hastening. Rather one should befriend the guest who is there, but speed him when he wishes.

The hearts of the great can be changed.

By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.

All right, let's not panic. I'll make the money by selling one of my livers. I can get by with one.

Everyone knows rock n' roll attained perfection in 1974. It's a scientific fact.

And endless are the modes of speech, and far Extends from side to side the field of words.

Among all men on the earth bards have a share of honor and reverence, because the muse has taught them songs and loves the race of bards.

The minds of the everlasting gods are not changed suddenly.

Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.

To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd, In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.

From his tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey.

The god of war is impartial: he hands out death to the man who hands out death.

All my life I've been an obese man trapped inside a fat man's body.

His descent was like nightfall.

Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.

Whenever a man is tired, wine is a great restorer of strength.

Take thou thy arms and come with me, For we must quit ourselves like men, and strive To air our cause, although we be but two. Great is the strength of feeble arms combined, And we can combat even with the brave.

Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.

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!

A gun is not a weapon! It's a tool, like a butcher's knife, or a harpoon, or an alligator.

When you're in my house you shall do as I do and believe who I believe in. So Bart butter your bacon.

I am so smart. I am so smart. I am so smart. S-M-R-T ... Uh, I mean S-M-A-R-T.

If you serve too many masters, you'll soon suffer.

Sleep and Death, who are twin brothers.

I would rather be tied to the soil as a serf... than be king of all these dead and destroyed.

Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.

In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, And poverty stood smiling in my sight.

Wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile

I believe children are the future...which is why they must be stopped now!

Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share.

It [revenge] is sweeter far than flowing honey.

Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs.