A Quote by Aeschylus

Call no man happy till he is dead. — © Aeschylus
Call no man happy till he is dead.

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Call no day happy 'til it is done; call no man happy til he is dead.
Call no man happy until he is dead.
Call no man happy, said Shadow, until he is dead
Call no man happy until he is dead, but only lucky.
An unlucky rich man is more capable of satisfying his desires and of riding out disaster when it strikes, but a lucky man is better off than him...He is the one who deserves to be described as happy. But until he is dead, you had better refrain from calling him happy, and just call him fortunate.
Man is born dead and he remains dead till he attains wisdom! Wisdom is the only resurrection man can obtain!
Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat upon the wall Till Truth obeyed his call.
Let no man be called happy before his death. Till then, he is not happy, only lucky.
Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
The call of God does what the call of man cannot. It raises the dead.
Love, which is lust, is the Lamp in the Tomb. Love, which is lust, is the Call from the Gloom. Love, which is lust, is the Main of Desire. Love, which is lust, is the Centric Fire. So man and woman will keep their trust, Till the very Springs of the Sea run dust. Yea, each with the other will lose and win, Till the very Sides of the Grave fall in. For the strife of Love's the abysmal strife, And the word of Love is the Word of Life. And they that go with the Word unsaid, Though they seem of the living, are damned and dead.
Beloved, till life can charm no more; And mourned, till Pity's self be dead.
Watching snowing would be much greater if there were no homeless people! Man can never be fully happy and comfortable till all men become happy and comfortable!
Account no man happy till he dies.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone: never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on gold here let them lie, till the dark lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land.
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