49 Quotes Tagged: willis-barnstone

1
Man made his gods, and furnished them
with his own body, voice, and garments.

2
If a horse or lion or a slow ox
had agile hands for paint and sculpture,
the horse would make his god a horse,
the ox would sculpt an ox.

3
Our gods have flat noses and black skins
say the Ethiopians. The Thracians say
our gods have red hair and hazel eyes.

You have taken in many blind eels.

The fox knows many tricks,
the hedgehog only one. A good one.

If you irritate the wound, Perikles, no man
in our city will enjoy the festivities.
These men were washed under by the thudding seawaves,
and the hearts in our chest are swollen with pain.
Yet against this incurable misery, the gods
give us the harsh medicine of endurance.
Sorrows come and go, friend, and now they strike us
and we look with horror on the bleeding sores,
yet tomorrow others will mourn the dead. I tell you,
hold back your feminine tears and endure.

Go take your cup and walk along the timber deck
Of our roaming ship; drain the hollow casks
Of all their red wine. How can we stay sober
on the watch when all the rest are drunk?

Now, I have no desire for poetry or joy,
yet I will make nothing better by crying,
nor worse by seeking good foods and pleasure.

The truth is that no man ever was or will be
who understands the gods and all I speak of.
If you stumble on some rocks of the whole truth
you never know it. There is always speculation.

One big thing I understand:
I know how to spit back with black venom
against the man who wrongs me.

Her sprig of myrtle clothed her beautiful rose
That her hands were happily playing with,
And her hair fell
As darkness on her back and shoulders.
Someone
Right in the middle of the myrtle.

Say goodbye to the island Paros,
farewell to its figs and the seafaring life.

Well, what if some barbaric Thracian glories
in the perfect shield I left under a bush?
I was sorry to leave it — but I saved my skin.
Does it matter? O hell, I'll buy a better one.

I don't like a general
who towers over the troops,
lordly with elegant locks
and trim mustachios.
Give me a stumpy soldier
glaringly bowlegged,
yet rockfirm on his feet,
and in his heart a giant.

This wheatless island stands like a donkey's back.
It bristles with a tangle of wild woodland.
Oh,
there is no country so beautiful,
no sensual earth that keys my passion
as these plains around the river Siris.

Let us hide the dreadful
gifts of lord Poseidon.

Glaukos, soldier of fortune, will be your friend
until he begins to fight.