Homer Quotes

reputed author of the Iliad and the Odyssey

Homer (Ancient Greek: Ὅμηρος) is best known as the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. He was believed by the ancient Greeks to have been the first and greatest of the epic poets. Author of the first known literature of Europe, he is central to the Western canon.

From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Native Name: Ὅμηρος

Alternative Names: Homerus • Homeros • Mæonides

From Wikidata (CC0)

but sing no more this bitter tale that wears my heart away

[B]ut it is only what happens, when they die, to all mortals.
The sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together,
and once the spirit has let the white bones, all the rest
of the body is made subject to the fire's strong fury,
but the soul flitters out like a dream and flies away.

Antilochus! You're the most appalling driver in the world! Go to hell!

And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you — it’s born with us the day that we are born.

Choose well.

"Say not a word in death's favor; I would rather be a paid servant in a poor man's house and be above ground than king of kings among the dead." -Achilles

τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη: καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτ᾽ ἔτλης.
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Be patient, my heart: for you have endured things worse than this before.

I know not what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.

What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind's breath?

There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.

For they imagined as they wished — that it was a wild shot,/ an unintended killing — fools, not to comprehend/ they were already in the grip of death./ But glaring under his brows Odysseus answered:

'You yellow dogs, you thought I'd never make it/ home from the land of Troy. You took my house to plunder,/ twisted my maids to serve your beds. You dared/ bid for my wife while I was still alive./ Contempt was all you had for the gods who rule wide heaven,/ contempt for what men say of you hereafter./ Your last hour has come. You die in blood.

Even a fool may be wise after the event.

My every impulse bends to what is right

I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.

Tell me, O muse, of travellers far and wide