“The lord of distant archery, Apollo,answered: "Lord of earthquake, sound of mindyou could not call me if I strove with youfor the sake of mortals, poor things that they are.Ephemeral as the flamelike budding leaves,men flourish on the ripe wheat of the grainland,then in spiritless age they waste and die.”

“Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.”

“The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things.”

“Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”

“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.”

“Limping, attendants rushed up to support him, Attendants made of gold who looked like real girls, With a mind within, and a voice, and strength, And knowledge of crafts from the immortal gods. These busily moved to support their lord...”

“Let him submit to me! Only the god of death is so relentless, Death submits to no one—so mortals hate him most of all the gods. Let him bow down to me! I am the greater king, I am the elder-born, I claim—the greater man.”