Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friend… - Euripides

We are not subject to our own wills, our own desires. But to the fates and the fortunes that the gods hand to us. The future is turned before our eyes into wrenching heartache, into ashes and to splinters. From today I know that truly hope is dead. I ask you again, you who watch, how can there ever be any ending than this? First silence. Then darkness.

On the numberless references to this impious sophism, see the learned notes of Valckenaer and Monk. Compare more particularly Aristoph. Ran. 102, 1471. Thesmoph. 275. Arist. Rhet. iii. 15. B.

Streams of the sacred rivers flow uphill;
Tradition, order, all things are reversed:
Deceit is men's device now,
Men's oaths are gods' dishonour.
Legend will now reverse our reputation;
A time comes when the female sex is honoured;
That old discordant slander
Shall no more hold us subject.