We’re not gods; why then expect to enjoy a lifetime of unbroken happiness? - Aeschylus

Cry, cry for death, but good win out in glory in the end.

And when he had put on the yoke-strap of compulsion, his spirit's wind veering to an impious blast, impure, unholy, from that moment his mind changed to a temper of utter ruthlessness. For mortals are made reckless by the evil counsels of merciless Infatuation, beginner of disaster.

Even so is the Libyan fable famed abroad: the eagle, pierced by the bow-sped shaft, looked at the feathered device, and said, “Thus, not by others, but by means of our own plumage, are we slain.