HUM216 Quote ID Revision

When things have only a name in common and the definition of being which corresponds to the name is different, they are called homonymous. Thus, for example, both a man and a picture are animals. These have only a name in common and the definition of being which corresponds to the name is different; for if one is to say what being an animal is for each of them, one will give two distinct definitions.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

Now what is to us plain and clear at first is rather confused masses, the elements and principles of which become known to us later by analysis. Thus we must advance from universals to particulars; for it is a whole that is more knowable to sense-perception, and a universal is a kind of whole, comprehending many things within it, like parts.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Afterwards a boy-child was sent to Shield, a cub in the yard, a comfort sent by God to that nation. He knew what they had tholed, the long times and troubles they'd come through without a leader; so the Lord of Life, the glorious Almighty, made this man renowned.

Beowulf Religion (12-17) Throughout Beowulf, whenever any great men manage to achieve heroic feats, the narrator will be careful to attribute their prowess to God's favor and divine plan.

"Time and again, foul things attacked me, lurking and stalking, but I lashed out, gave as good as I got with my sword. My flesh was not for feasting on, there would be no monsters gnawing and gloating over their banquet at the bottom of the sea. Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping the sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated like the ocean's leavings."

Beowulf The Supernatural (559-567) Beowulf's swimming contest with Breca is made more impressive by the addition of dozens of writhing sea-monsters, turning this straightforward athletic contest into an adventure worthy of being included in an epic.

Tears alone were sweet to me, for in my heart's desire they had taken the place of my friend.

Confessions Suffering (IV.4.3) Takes place after his friend's death - exploration of grief. Why do we feel sad when we lose loved ones? Is it just that we miss them? Is it something more? Does a belief in God change how we feel about it? Why can't we control our emotions? And what is so soothing about crying during times of grief? That's a lot of implications for one little statement.

Where could my heart find refuge from itself? Where could I go, yet leave myself behind? Was there any place where I should not be a prey to myself? None.

Confessions Suffering (IV.7.1) If only we could turn suffering off like a light switch. But, as Augustine points out, suffering isn't something that exists outside of ourselves. So why does it feel that way? And even more than that, why does Augustine make it sound like his heart is the one beating up itself? Where is all of this suffering coming from? With phrases like "prey to myself" and "refuge from myself," Augustine sure is making it sound like he is the cause of his own suffering. And we have to agree with him, here, because he is the one refusing to give up on sex in order to save his own soul.

I learned it without being forced by threats of punishment, because it was my own wish to be able to give expression to my thoughts.

Confessions Wisdom/knowledge (I.14.1) It seems pretty intuitive that we have an easier time learning our native language than trying to learn one in school later on, right? So what does this have to do with Augustine's conversion? Think about it: Augustine is basically saying that when we are not afraid, and actually want to learn something, we are more receptive to it. Hm, maybe this might have something to do with how we should approach learning about God...

All my empty dreams suddenly lost their charm and my heart began to throb with a bewildering passion for the wisdom of eternal truth.

Confessions Wisdom/knowledge (III.4.1) You might say that this is when Augustine hears his "calling," or at least his first one. In fact, you might say that it's Augustine's desire for wisdom that ultimately leads him to God

Only man is endowed with freedom That you [God] could constrain but have chosen not to, And slippery Fortune players her random Games with us. The innocent suffer Penalties proper to malefactors And wicked men sit up thrones.

Consolation of Philosophy

They have no medicine to ease his pains, only sweetened poisons to make them worse. These are the very creatures who slay the rich and fruitful harvest of Reason with the barren thorns of Passion. They habituate men to their sickness of mind instead of curing them.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 1)

Woe to you who long for the day of the Lord! Why do you long for the day of the Lord? That day will be darkness, not light.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Then the Lord said, 'I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey.

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

"Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams."

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

This is what the Lord Almighty says: I took you from the pasture, from tending the flock, and appointed you ruler over my people Israel.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

He is the best man who, when making his plans, fears and reflects on everything that can happen to him, but in the moment of action is bold.

Herodetus

Of all men's miseries the bitterest is this: to know so much and to have control over nothing.

Herodetus

They made it plain to everyone, however, and above all to the king himself, that although he had plenty of troops, he did not have many men.

Herodetus

My work is not a piece of writing designed to meet the needs of an immediate public, but was done to last for ever.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.

History of the Peloponnesian War

When you realize her greatness, then reflect that what made her great was men with a spirit of adventure, men who knew their duty, men who were ashamed to fall below a certain standard. If they ever failed in an enterprise, they made up their minds that at any rate the city should not find their courage lacking to her, and they gave to her the best contribution that they could. They gave her their lives, to her and to all of us, and for their own selves they won praises that never grow old, the most splendid of sepulchres—not the sepulchre [sic] in which their bodies are laid, but where their glory remains eternal in men's minds, always there on the right occasion to stir others to speech or to action.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 2, Chapter 43, Pages 149-50) This passages is from Pericles' Funeral Oration, one of the more famous speeches presented in the book. Ancient Greek tradition dictated that, following burial of the dead, a speaker be selected to address mourners. For the burial of the war's first casualties, Pericles is chosen. Scholars have noted that the speeches Thucydides purports to reproduce at times seem to be in his voice. Pericles' funeral oration provides a potential example of this. In Book 1, Thucydides expresses his desire to create a text that will "last for ever," invoking the purpose of epic poetry (48). However, while myths lack a basis in empirical fact, Thucydides seeks to mythologize true events from his time (48). Pericles's funeral oration similarly seeks to mythologize contemporary men. He describes "famous men" as being remembered "not by their physical graves but by the greatness of their deeds," which remain "eternal in men's minds" (149). Just as Pericles invokes their fathers' sacrifices in the Persian War, future generations may invoke the men who have died in the current war. They become immortalized by their deeds, as were the Greeks' mythic heroes. In addition to the resonance with Thucydides' stated intentions for his history (creating a lasting monument to greatness), Pericles' words bring into relationship the part (individual soldiers) with the whole (the city of Athens). He honors the deeds and sacrifices of individuals while placing them in a larger context of protecting a city that serves, as Pericles says elsewhere in his oration, as an "education to Greece" (147). Later in the book, Thucydides will note that Athens was at its strongest under Pericles, who was more patriot than politician, unlike the city's later leaders.

The standard of justice depends on the equality of power to compel and that ... the strong do what they have the power to do and the weak accept what they have to accept.

History of the Peloponnesian War Should the Melians (a Spartan colony) be allowed to remain neutral? Or should the Athenians insist they submit and pay tribute? The Melians make a passionate plea for justice and the right to remain neutral. The Athenians counter by pointing out. Allowing the Melians to remain neutral would set a dangerous precedent and threaten Athenian hegemony.

We have it on eminent and learned authority that, whereas other arts need to be based upon study and rules and principles, poets depend entirely on their own inborn gifts and are stimulated by some internal force, a sort of divine spark, within the depths of their own souls. Our great Ennius" was therefore right to call poets holy, because they seem to bring to us some special gift and endowment which the gods have accorded them as a passport for this world.

In Defense of Archias

You will no doubt be asking me why I feel such an affection for this man. The answer is that he provides my mind with refreshment after this din of the courts; he soothes my ears to rest when they are wearied by angry disputes. How could I find material, do you suppose, for the speeches I make every day on such a variety of subjects, unless I steeped my mind in learning? How could I endure the constant strains if I could not distract myself from them by this means?

In Defense of Archias

"How would you feel, sad heart, if you'd survived the fatal flood, but I had lost my life? How would you, all alone, have borne the fear? With whom would you - alone - have shared your tears? For if the sea had swallowed you, dear wife, I, too - believe me - would have followed you and let the deluge drown me, too."

Metamorphoses Love (1.358-362) The story of Deucalion and Pyrrha contains one of Ovid's sure-fire signs of true love; both members of the couple are convinced that they can't live apart from each other.

And then the goddess unleashed her rage; she struck her Grecian rival at once: she sent a Fury to harass poor Io's eyes and mind; she pierced her breast with an invisible, relentless goad; she drove the frightened girl across the world - a fugitive.

Metamorphoses Revenge (1.724-727) This is passage is only one of many like it in Ovid's poem. The common theme is blaming the victim. Juno gets mad because her husband, Jupiter, has been sleeping with some other woman, and she takes it out on the poor girl. This is especially unfair because, in most cases, the girl isn't at fault - usually Jupiter comes onto her through deception, or by making use of his overbearing divine power. Revenge is not the same as justice.

Men heard his fate - and disagreed: some thought Diana was too cruel, too unjust; while others said her action, though severe, was worthy of a virgin so austere. Both sides brought suasive arguments to bear. And only Juno neither blamed nor cleared Diana: she was simply glad to hear that now Agenor's house had met disaster. The rage that Juno's rival had provoked was aimed at all who shared Europa's blood.

Metamorphoses Revenge (3.253-259) Once again, Ovid shows that justice and revenge are not the same thing - or, at least, that there is strong evidence that they aren't the same thing. Sure, there are some people that it was appropriate for Diana to turn Actaeon into a stag and have him killed by his own hounds, but others think she overreacted. It wasn't Actaeon's fault that he stumbled upon her and her nymphs when they were bathing. But she doesn't seem to care; he suffers anyway.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

New Testament (Corinthians)

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

If you declare with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

New Testament (Romans)

The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of human beings who suppress the truth by their wickedness.

New Testament (Romans)

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God - this is true worship.

New Testament (Romans)

And so, in a word, the characteristics come into being as a result of the activities akin to them. Hence we must make our activities be of a certain quality...It makes no small difference, then, whether one is habituated in this way or that way straight from childhood but a very great difference—or rather the whole difference.

Nicomachean Ethics Community (2.1.1103b21-25) Aristotle speaks here about the necessity to raise a child up in way that will help him develop his "characteristics" (i.e. virtues). He believes that although we may be receptive to such an education from birth, we're not simply born with the virtues up and running. The task of such habituation falls not only to the family, but also to the political community and to lawgivers who enshrine desirable virtues in the laws that they write.

In poverty as well as in other misfortunes, people suppose that friends are their only refuge. And friendship is a help to the young, in saving them from error, just as it is also to the old, with a view to the care they require and their diminished capacity for action stemming from their weakness; it is a help also to those in their prime in performing noble actions, for 'two going together' are better able to think and to act.

Nicomachean Ethics Friendship (8.1.1155a11-16) We can't emphasize enough how much we agree with Aristotle here: you always need your buds. There's no time of life when we can make it on our own—or if we can, it is always much more pleasant to have a companion to share in our lives. Again, Aristotle's not getting all Hallmark Channel on us here: he's totally practical. As humans, we need another set of hands, brains, and a shoulder to cry on in order to lead stable and productive lives.

But he who is excessive and vulgar exceeds in spending beyond what is needful, as has been said. For on small things, he lavishes much expense and makes an ostentatious display of himself contrary to what is proper...And he will do all such things not for the sake of the noble but to display his wealth.

Nicomachean Ethics Society & class (4.2.1123a20-26) Those with money have an obligation to use their goods to help advance society. When a person abuses his goods by expending them as he shouldn't, he also does a great social wrong. Aristotle says time and again that members of a community (which is really a political "friendship") must contribute what they can to the common good. In this light, the vulgar person isn't just tacky; he's downright harmful.

And there is nothing in which human virtue approaches the divine more closely than in the founding of new states or the preservation of existing ones.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

I have said all this at length because my goal in this work is a discussion of public affairs; and in order to avoid its being pointless, I was obliged to eliminate doubts about taking part in public life. But anyone who is moved by the authority of philosophers should pay attention for a short time and listen to the ones who have the greatest authority and fame among learned men; I believe that even if they did not hold office, they performed a public function because they did much research and writing about government.

On the Commonwealth Book 1 Importance of public life vs philosophers

If only the proportion in the whole senate were the same! But in fact the man of foresight is one who, as we often saw in Africa, sits on a huge and destructive creature, keeps it in order, directs it wherever he wants, and by a gentle instruction or touch turns the animal in any direction.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

But I see at this point a double path of fate: when your span of years has traversed seven times eight turns and returns of the sun, and these two numbers, each of which is considered perfect for various reasons, have made up the sum of your fate by their natural circling, the whole state will turn to you alone and to your name: the senate, all upstanding citizens, the allies, and the Latins will look to you; you will be the one person on whom the safety of the state rests.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

Who is there in the rest of the earth, at the extremes of east, west, north, or south, who will hear your name? And if you remove those, you of course see the narrow bounds set on the expansion of your glory. And even the people who talk about us - how long will they do that?

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

Then he realized that the cause of the flaw was the vessel itself, which by its own flaw corrupted within it all things, even good things, that entered it from without.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book VI, lines 18-20; page 178) In the introduction of Book VI, Lucretius is again celebrating the accomplishments of Epicurus. He describes how Epicurus realized that, though the world provides humanity with everything that we need, our minds are often still troubled. The birth of Epicureanism came when the philosopher understood that the failing was in our own minds, which he equated with a leaky vessel that could never be filled. The purpose of Epicureanism (the way to fix our leaky vessels), then, is to teach us to be satisfied with what we have, and not to seek more than we need.

Dear god, let me avenge my father's murder—fight beside me now with all your might!

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) As Orestes prays at the tomb of his father, he prays to the god Hermes to help him murder his mother Clytemnestra in order to avenge his father Agamemnon—a shocking plea to modern readers. To Orestes, however, vengeance is holy work. He believes that in killing his mother, he will be carrying out a divinely sanctioned act. Indeed, rather than seeing murder as immoral, Orestes instead sees inaction as immoral. He believes that as long as his mother lives, his father's spirit cannot rest, and that he is in fact forsaking his duty as a son for as long as he does not carry out his goal of matricide. Thus in the Greek world, Orestes can be both pious and murderous. His allegiance lies not with his living mother, but with his dead father, proof of how much influence the ghosts of the dead exert over the lives of the living within this work.

For the laughable is a sort of error and ugliness that is not painful and destructive, just as, evidently, a laughable mask is something ugly and distorted without pain.

Poetics

For this reason poetry is more philosophical and more serious than history; poetry utters universal truths, history particular statements. The universal truths concern what befits a person of a certain kind to say or do in accordance with probability and necessity—and that is the aim of poetry, even if it makes use of proper names.

Poetics

The specific excellence of verbal expression in poetry is to be clear without being low.

Poetics Poetic language should be clear, but distinctive enough that it isn't confused with the "low." By mixing ordinary words with complex language, including foreign words, metaphors, and ornamental words, the poet can achieve the greatest poetic style.

You cannot step twice into the same rivers; for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you. It scatters and it gathers; it advances and retires.

Presocratics Heraclitus: Change and the Logos

Bless us, divine number, you who generated gods and men. O holy, holy Tetractys, you that contains the root and source of the eternally flowing creation. For the divine number begins with the profound, pure unity until it comes to the holy four; then it produces the mother of all, the all-comprising, all-bounding, the first-born, the never-swerving, the never-tiring holy ten, the keyholder of all.

Presocratics Pythagorean prayer (not included in the presocratics but interesting to see)

This was the company of those who suffered Wounds in battle for their country; those Who in their lives were holy men and chaste Or worthy of Phoebus in prophetic song; Or those two bettered life, by finding out New truths and skills; or those who to some folk By benefactions made themselves remembered.

The Aeneid Duty (6.883-889) These lines come from the description of Elysium, the pleasant part of the underworld where good people get to chill out until they're reborn. One thing many (though not all) of these people have in common is that they acted for the benefit of others; some have made the ultimate sacrifice for their community. How does this scene from the underworld contribute to the Aeneid's overall perspective on duty?

As when one puts a stain of crimson dye On ivory of India, or when White lilies blush, infused with crimson roses, So rich the contrast in her coloring seemed. Desire stung the young man as he gazed, Rapt, at the girl. He burned yet more for battle

The Aeneid Love (12.92-101) These lines, like those introducing Nisus and Euryalus, show the undeniable influence appearances have on love (OK, maybe this is a bit closer to plain old lust than love). They also continue the typical Aeneid motif in which being in love makes you act like a complete fool - as, in this case. It makes Turnus eager for battle with Aeneas, which winds up getting him killed.

For they do not look through to the soul, nor have a keen eye for virtue, but they stop at the outward excellencies of the body, and admire daring, and strength, speed in running, and size, and consider these as fit qualifications for the purple robe and diadem.

The Alexiad

"If, however, you are bent upon attempting in peace what even after your victory in the civil wars you did not demand, why, contrary to the habit of obedience, contrary to the law of discipline, do you meditate violence? Decide on sending envoys, and give them instructions in your presence."

The Annals

The more corrupt the state, the more numerous the laws.

The Annals (Book 3) Tacitus presents the conservative perspective here that limited regulation is better for the populace. As if each law is a measure of the government's corruption, he decried the excess of laws enacted during that time. It's as if the emperors were trying to control every aspect of the public so as to further subject them as an extension of their own wills.

"We everlasting gods . . . Ah what chilling blows we suffer—thanks to our own conflicting wills— whenever we show these mortal men some kindness."

The Iliad (Book 5) Ares voices this lament after being wounded by Diomedes in Book 5. His plaint concisely captures the Homeric relationship between gods and men and, perhaps, Homer's attitude toward that relationship. Homeric gods frequently intervene in the mortal world out of some kind of emotional attachment to the object of that intervention. Here, Ares describes this emotion as simply a desire to do "kindness," but kindness toward one mortal often translates into unkindness toward another—hence Ares' wound at the hands of Diomedes. Divine intervention in The Iliad causes conflicts not only in the mortal sphere but between the gods as well. Each god favors different men, and when these men are at war, divine wars often rage as well. Ares thus correctly attributes the gods' "chilling blows" to their "own conflicting wills." Ares' whining does not make him unique among the gods. Homer's immortals expect to govern according to their wills, which are in turn governed by self-interest. Correspondingly, they complain when they do not get their way. Ares' melodramatic and self-pitying lament, which is greeted with scorn by Zeus a few lines later, probably implies some criticism of the gods by Homer. Ares' appearance here as a kind of spoiled child provides just one example of Homer's portrayal of the gods as temperamental, sulky, vengeful, and petty—a portrayal that may seek to describe and explain the inequities and absurdities in life on earth.

"Old man, the orchard keeper you work for is no townsman. A good eye for growing things he has: there's not a nurseling, fig tree, vine stock, olive tree, or pear tree or garden bed uncared for on this farm. But I might add- don't take offense- your appearance could be tidier. Old age yes- but why the squalor, and rags to boot?"

The Odyssey Family (Book 24, lines 270-7) Odysseus to his father

When and for whom is [a lie]... useful? Isn't it useful against enemies, and, as a preventative, like a drug, for so-called friends when from madness or some folly they attempt to do something bad?

The Republic (382c) Here's the first defense of lying. A lie is useful if it prevents bad things from happening. Are you convinced? Who determines what is bad for people? Can you think of situations where a lie might be useful in this way?

The direction in which education starts a man will determine his future life.

The Republic Book 4 In delineating the duties of the guardians, Socrates touches on how they must manage education for the populace. He believes that school has an immense effect on one's personal development. This model of education confirms that Socrates believes life in the ideal city should be firmly controlled. The stakes, he explains, are that the education someone receives "will determine his future life"—or entirely dictate someone's destiny. For Socrates, "Education" refers both to the specific schooling one receives and also more broadly to the types of stories and ethics that a child encounters as he matures. Socrates justifies his highly censored world and tightly controlled education based on the idea that negative content will lead to a negative "direction." A deterministic model of human development, in which a citizen's character depends largely on what that person experiences, thus requires an equally deterministic social system that strongly controls exactly those experiences. Thus the pivotal role of education is used to justify the need for tight control of pedagogy by the guardian class.

You, who out of such deep darkness first found a way to raise such a brilliant light and illumine life's comforts, you, glory of the Greek people, I follow, and in your footsteps I now tread boldly—less from a desire to rival you than because of love, which inspires me to imitate you.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book III, lines 1- 7; pages 67-68) These lines open Book III of the poem. Here, Lucretius is performing a standard invocation, as he did at the beginning of Book I. This time, however, he is calling upon the philosopher Epicurus instead of a god. This invocation is clearly intended to echo that of Book I, and to insinuate that the benefits we traditionally associate with the gods can instead be found in enlightened mortals. Note how Lucretius uses the metaphor of Epicurus leading us into the light: he used similar imagery to praise Venus in Book I, but this time, he means the light of understanding.

Again, a tree cannot exist in the sky, or clouds in the depths of the sea; fish cannot live in fields; blood is not found in timber, or sap in stones.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book III, lines 784-787; page 88) These lines occur during Lucretius' description of the mind and spirit, and their relation to the body. According to Epicurean thought, the mind and spirit are born with the body, mature with it, and die with it. Just as fish cannot live in fields, the mind and spirit cannot live anywhere but inside the body. These lines are repeated in Book V (lines 128 and following), to argue that we shouldn't imagine inanimate objects possessing minds and spirits, since it is contrary to nature.

Death, then, is nothing to us and does not affect us in the least, now that the nature of the mind is understood to be mortal.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book III, lines 830-831; page 89) This conclusion follows naturally from the quote at #15, and it is one of the central tenets of Epicureanism. Since the mind and spirit are part of the body and can't live outside it, that means they must die with the body. It's therefore unreasonable to fear death: there is no afterlife, and we won't possess any sort of awareness. This is an important argument for Lucretius, because he maintains that many people act foolishly out of fear of death, and this prompts them to be taken in by superstition.

Therefore all sensations at all times are true.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book IV, line 499; page 114) A key element of Lucretius' methodology is evidence provided by the senses. He believes that every object emanates invisible particles that interact with our sense organs (eyes, ears, nose, etc.), which pass that information on to our brain. Since our senses aren't capable of independent thought, they cannot mistakenly pass on incorrect information; they can only pass on precisely what they sense. The mind, which receives this information, is responsible for interpretation. We must therefore be sure to examine things carefully to be sure that the mind is understanding what the senses tell it; otherwise, we can't be sure of the truth.

I will explain in verses melodious rather than many: the swan's brief song is preferable to the clamoring of cranes that crowds the clouds of the southern sky.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book IV, lines 180-182; page 105) Throughout this work, Lucretius employs "metapoetry": the device of writing poetry about poetry. Generally, he uses this device to lend structure to his arguments. It can introduce new sections or break up lengthy and technical scientific arguments. It is an element of the "honey" that he is applying to the "medicine cup" of his philosophy, helping to make difficult arguments more pleasant. In this case, he is cleverly using poetic imagery (swans and clamoring cranes) to make a metapoetic statement, a trick perhaps intended to amuse and entertain his audience.

Again, how could it have harmed us never to have been created?

On the Nature of the Universe (Book V, line 175; page 141) Part of the purpose of Book V is to explain how humans came to exist, and to dispel the myth that the gods created us. So, Lucretius tells us that in its early days, the Earth created wombs that carried the first humans, and nurtured them itself until they could reproduce and propagate the species. Lucretius further argues that the gods would have gained nothing from our creation, and that our gratitude is meaningless to them. It ought to be meaningless to us, too, since the alternative to life is total oblivion: we would never have known that we hadn't been created.

And yet if human beings would guide their lives by true principles, great wealth consists in living on a little with a contented mind; for of a little there is never a lack.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book V, lines 1117-1119; page 167) Here, Lucretius is describing the early stages of mankind's development, from nomadic hunters with no language to humans' invention of wealth and power. According to the Epicurean model, we are following a generally downward trajectory: from a simple society where there was no need for competition, we progressed to a civilization where powerful leaders are corrupted by greed and envy. In this quotation, Lucretius reminds us of the manner of living that would bring the greatest Epicurean pleasure.

For if we are to speak as the majesty of his revelations demands, a god he was, a god [..] who first discovered that principle of life which is now identified with wisdom, and who by his genius saved life from such mighty waves and such deep darkness and moored it in such calm water and so brilliant a light.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book V, lines 8-12; pages 136-137) Book V begins with another invocation of Epicurus. This one is less subtle than that of Book III (see quote #14), which merely hinted at Epicurus' godlike qualities. As he introduces the final two books, which are particularly centered around explaining phenomena that were formerly attributed to the gods, Lucretius becomes more overt in making Epicurus' scientific knowledge a replacement for religion. To do this, the poet again uses the metaphor of the light of knowledge, and emphatically combines it with a nautical metaphor, showing that Epicurean philosophy will bring tranquility to its followers, as well as enlightenment.

Unless you expel such notions from your mind and put far from you all thoughts unworthy of the gods and incompatible with their peace, their sacred persons [...] will often do you harm. I do not mean that the supreme might of the gods can be offended and angrily seek to exact cruel vengeance; rather I mean this: you will fancy that those calm beings blessed with placid peace set in commotion mighty waves of wrath; you will be unable to approach their shrines with an untroubled breast; and you will be impotent to receive in peace and tranquility the images that emanate from their sacred bodies and enter human minds with news of divine beauty.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book VI, lines 69-78; page 180) The purpose of Book VI is to explain the causes of natural phenomena that tend to frighten humans and cause them to fear the gods' wrath. Lucretius attempts to dispel this fear through understanding that the gods are not involved in these phenomena. This passage tells us that fear of the gods will cause more harm than good, since that fear will prevent us from experiencing the good that the gods can offer. We can glean from this passage that, though they are generally detached from the mortal realm, images of the gods can come to us (in the form of dreams or visions) so long as we are in a receptive frame of mind. Only one who has embraced Epicureanism and has found peace through it, then, can truly commune with the gods.

But I hope the master of this house may come home soon, so I can grasp his welcome hand in mine. As for all the rest, I'm saying nothing. A great ox stands on my tongue. But this house, if it could speak, might tell some stories. I speak to those who know about these things. For those who don't, there's nothing I remember.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) As the play begins, the Watchman sets the scene for a complex, multi-generational tragedy. The Watchman waits for his king, Agamemnon, to return from the Trojan War. And yet he feels a deep sense of unease--not so much about Agamemnon but about Agamemnon's home. Greek audiences would have understood that the Watchman is referring to the curse of Agamemnon's family--a curse that began when Agamemnon's father cooked his brother's own children and fed them to his brother. The gods vowed to punish Agamemnon's entire family (the House of Atreus) for the evil act. Now, it seems, the god's punishment has extended to Agamemnon himself--and this is foreshadowed because all the people of Argos know that something is wrong in the royal house.

One disgrace exchanged for yet another, the struggle to decide is hard. The man who sins is sinned against, the killer pays the price. Yet while Zeus sits upon his throne this decree from god remains— the man who acts will suffer. Who can then cast from this house its self-perpetuating curse? This race is wedded to destruction.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) As the play draws to a close, we come back to the same idea we've heard from Cassandra,Clytemnestra, and many of the other characters: balance. Every sin must be balanced out with an act of revenge, and every drop of blood spilled must be canceled out with more blood. The Chorus isn't satisfied with the endless cycle of murder and revenge--it benefits no one, and actually cripples the House of Atreus. The Chorus prays that someone will come along to end the cycle of revenge. As we'll see in the two sequels to Agamemnon, Orestes at first continues the cycle of revenge by killing his mother, but then at last brings it to a close, changing the nature of the very Furies themselves.

Some time ago I cried out in triumph, rejoicing when that first messenger arrived, the fiery herald in the night, who told me Troy was captured and was being destroyed. Some people criticized me then, saying, "How come you're so easily persuaded by signal fires Troy's being demolished? Isn't that just like a woman's heart, to get so jubilant?"

Oresteia (Agamemnon) Clytemnestra here spells out more distinctions between masculinity and femininity in her society. Although she correctly interprets the signal fires coming from Troy and concludes that Agamemnon has won the Trojan War, her announcement is not welcomed. Rather, people (including the old men who make up the Chorus) question Clytemnestra and suggest that she is jumping to conclusions because she's a woman (and therefore more likely to be flighty in her emotions). Clytemnestra is a proud, fierce woman, but in her society, her innate talents can only get her so far. Her authority is always being questioned and reinterpreted in light of her gender. It's implied at several points thatClytemnestra plots to kill Agamemnon, not just because of her anger over Iphigenia but because of her desire for power--power that her current station (queen) doesn't provide. Furthermore, what's later considered to be Clytemnestra's great crime (killing her husband) is later inextricably linked to her lack of femininity and submission to gender roles.

Before this moment I said many things to suit my purposes. I'm not ashamed to contradict them now. How else could I act on my hate for such a hateful man, who feigned his love, how else prepare my nets of agony so high no one could jump them? I've brooded on this struggle many years, the old blood feud. My moment's come at last, though long delayed. I stand now where I struck, where I achieved what I set out to do. I did all this. I won't deny the fact.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) Here Clytemnestra dramatically reveals the truth about her actions: she's been plotting for years to kill Agamemnon, who murdered their daughter, Iphigenia.Clytemnestra was sure that she could get away with the murder because Agamemnon was already cursed: the gods were already predisposed to punish the king for his sins. The passage representsClytemnestra's greatest moment of pride and assertiveness--and her break from the traditional feminine role of the submissive, loyal wife. She's been planning Agamemnon's murder for years now (Iphigenia was murdered at least ten years earlier), and in this speech, she emphasizes the sheer satisfaction of successfully avenging her daughter and killing her husband.Clytemnestra's speech contrasts markedly with the Chorus's talk of fate and destiny.Clytemnestra, quite aside from being dominated by destiny, has used her own free will and intelligence (putting up a cunning act of being a loyal wife) to achieve her goals. But as Cassandra has already told us, evenClytemnestra isn't free from the rules of fate--in due time, she'll be punished for her act of murder and meet the same fate as her husband. Nobody, it seems, can escape the ironclad law of "blood for blood."

But we'll not die without the gods' revenge. Another man will come and will avenge us, a son who'll kill his mother, then pay back his father's death, a wanderer in exile, a man this country's made a stranger. He'll come back and, like a coping stone, bring the ruin of his family to a close. For gods have made a powerful promise— his father's stretched out corpse will bring him home.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) Here the Trojan prisoner Cassandra goes quietly to be murdered, knowing that nothing she does can prevent her inevitable death. Cassandra sees a "light at the end of the tunnel," however. Even if she herself will be killed, there will eventually come an end to the cycle of death and "blood for blood" that has cursed the House of Atreus. After Agamemnon and Cassandra's death, Orestes will come to avenge his father's murder by killing Clytemnestra. Somehow, Cassandra claims, Orestes' actions will not set off any further cycles of revenge. Cassandra's allusions to Orestes would be well-known to Aeschylus's original Greek audiences. What's equally interesting is the way Cassandra accepts her fate--all her knowledge of the future isn't enough to save her from murder. Cassandra sees the future, but can't change it; and that's her curse.

It's harsh not to obey this fate— but to go through with it is harsh as well, to kill my child, the glory of my house, to stain a father's hands before the altar with streams of virgin's blood. Which of my options is not evil? How can I just leave this fleet, and let my fellow warriors down? Their passionate demand for sacrifice to calm the winds lies within their rights— even the sacrifice of virgin blood. So be it. All may be well.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this "flashback," we learn from the Greek Chorus that Agamemnon previously sacrificed his daughter, Iphigenia, to ensure a safe voyage to Troy (where he was headed to start the Trojan War). Agamemnon's intentions were noble at first. The goddess Artemis sent winds to stop the Greek ships from reaching Troy, and the sacrifice of Iphigenia was demanded to appease her--but Agamemnon refused to kill his daughter. Eventually, though, Agamemnon gave into his loyalty to his crew mates, as well as his own selfishness: to ensure that the ships would arrive in Troy (and presumably achieve great glory, riches, and revenge) he killed his own daughter. The Chorus characterizes Agamemnon's action as ambiguous but ultimately unholy. Agamemnon may have been looking out for his fellow troops and appeasing a goddess, but in doing so, he sacrificed his loyalty to his own family--the ultimate crime in ancient Greece. Just like his father (the source of the curse on Agamemnon's family), Agamemnon has slaughtered his own family members, adding to the cycle of vengeance and punishment that haunts the House of Atreus. He is, in short, inviting punishment from the gods.

Your speech was, like my absence, far too long. Praise that's due to us should come from others. Then it's worthwhile. All those things you said— don't puff me up with such female honours, or grovel there before me babbling tributes, like some barbarian. Don't invite envy to cross my path by strewing it with cloth. That's how we honour gods, not human beings. For a mortal man to place his foot like this on rich embroidery is, in my view, not without some risk. So I'm telling you honour me as a man, not as a god. My fame proclaims itself. It does not need foot mats made out of such embroideries. Not even to think of doing something bad is god's greatest gift. When a man's life ends in great prosperity, only then can we declare that he's a happy man. Thus, if I act, in every circumstance, as I ought to now, there's nothing I need fear.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this famous passage,Clytemnestra tries to convince her husband Agamemnon, newly returned from Troy, to walk along a purple tapestry that symbolizes his wealth and power. Agamemnon is highly reluctant to walk along the royal tapestry: he thinks that doing so would be showing off, and would anger the gods excessively. Agamemnon is savvy enough to know that the gods love to punish arrogant, proud people--he's trying to keep his head down to avoid divine retribution. At the end of his speech, Agamemnon makes an interesting point: we can only measure the happiness of a man's life by waiting to see how his life ends. In other words, a man who is happy and prosperous now might not necessarily die that way. Agamemnon's words (an allusion to the Greek legend of Solon, later repeated in the Histories by Herodotus) are important because they reinforce the play's themes of punishment and uncertainty. Happiness and contentment are never certain at all--they can always be replaced with misery and pain. Agamemnon here tries to escape divine punishment, but as we'll see, his attempts are all in vain.

The people's voice, once angered, can create dissent, ratifying a curse which now must have its way. And so, in my anxiety, I wait, listening for something murky, something emerging from the gloom. For gods aren't blind to men who kill. In time, black agents of revenge, the Furies, wear down and bring to nothing the fortunes of a man who prospers in unjust ways. They wear him out, reverse his luck, and bring him at last among the dead. There's no remedy. To boast too much of one's success is dangerous—the high mountain peak is struck by Zeus' lightning bolt. I'd choose wealth no one could envy. May I never be the sort of man who puts whole cities to the sword. Let me never see myself enslaved, my life in someone else's power.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this passage, the Chorus spells out the relationship between pride and tragedy in Greek drama. There is no greater sin in ancient Greece than excessive pride, or hubris. An overly proud man is practically begging for his comeuppance from the gods--as the Chorus explains (in rather personal terms), prideful men, especially men who've gained their fame and success through violence, will be punished by the gods, or in particular the Furies (whom we'll meet later on). In short, the Chorus sketches a crude system of justice: climb too high in life, and you'll be "struck down" by Zeus (this is echoed in another famous Greek myth--the story of Icarus). The passage is very important because, as we'll see, Agamemnon is guilty of many sins, not the least of which is his fatal pride, the quality that ultimately ensures his doom at the hands of his wife.

For, as we know, boundaries of vigorous health break down— disease is always pressing hard the common wall between them. So with the fate of men. It holds to a straight course, then, all at once, can crash upon a hidden rock of grief. But if, as a precaution, men toss overboard some part of their rich cargo, and time their throw just right, the house, though grieving, will not completely founder, nor will its hull be swamped. And Zeus' bountiful rich gifts reaped from the furrows every year hold off the plague of famine. But once a murdered man's dark blood has soaked the ground, who then can bring him back through song?

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this passage, the Chorus sums up the play's take on fate and human existence. Humans live happy lives--until suddenly, they don't. The gods are always capable of punishing mortals, especially those who disrespect the gods with their pride and arrogance. Even the wealthiest and most powerful man in the world could be struck down by the almighty god, Zeus. The only way to be absolutely certain that a person has lived a fulfilling, happy life is to follow that person all the way to death. The Chorus alludes to the sacrifice Agamemnon has made: he's tossed off his "cargo" (i.e., his daughter) in order to ensure his own survival and return to his native land. Agamemnon's actions are risky: in the end, the Chorus predicts, he may end up being punished--a process that art and poetry can document, but never change.

To rest unsatisfied amid great wealth is in the nature of all human beings. No one can point and order it away from princely homes by uttering the words "Dissatisfaction, enter here no more!" Take Agamemnon. The powers in heaven permitted him to capture Priam's town, to return home honoured by the gods. But now, if he must pay the penalty for blood which other men before him shed and die in retribution for the dead he killed himself, what mortal human being who hears all this can boast he lives a life unscarred by fate?

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this passage, the Chorus tries to come to terms with the dictates of free will and fate. In the past, Agamemnon has clearly had the blessings of the gods--he's won a great victory at Troy, for which he's been rewarded with glory and slaves. And yet Cassandra claims that Agamemnon will soon be punished; furthermore, he'll be punished for his father's acts of murder, not just his own. The Chorus concludes that all of life is predetermined by "fate." There's nothing Agamemnon can do to escape his punishment--no amount of caution or modesty can ever make up for his father's brutality or his own past actions. The Chorus's observations might seem harsh by modern Western standards. It's a cornerstone of our society that people should only be punished for actions that they committed of their own free will. Agamemnon, by contrast, is being punished partly for actions completely beyond his control (his father's murders). Agamemnon is also being punished for killing his own daughter--and yet the rules of fate and destiny seem indifferent to a person's individual actions and responsibilities.

Old violent aggression loves to generate new troubles among evil men—soon or late, when it's fated to be born, new violence springs forth, a spirit no one can resist or conquer, unholy recklessness, dark ruin on the home, like the destructiveness from which it sprang. But Righteousness shines out from grimy dwellings, honouring the man who lives in virtue. She turns her eyes away from gold-encrusted mansions where men's hands are black, and moves towards integrity, rejecting power and wealth, which, though praised, are counterfeit. Righteousness leads all things to well-deserved fulfillment.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) One of the key themes of the play is the idea that evil always causes more evil somewhere down the line. Agamemnon's father's acts of evil and revenge spawn the evil and revenge in this play, as we'll see, and even Helen's abduction from Troy causes the various events of the play (without Helen's abduction, Agamemnon would never have sacrificed his daughter to reach Troy safely, and his wife presumably would never have murdered him). In short, evil and revenge are never ending cycles. In Greek society at the time, there is a strong code of revenge and "blood for blood." Whenever an evil act is committed, it must be balanced out by another act--which itself causes more acts of vengeance and retribution. The only way to escape from the endless cycle, the Chorus suggests, is to embrace the path of wisdom and morality-- foreshadowing the end of the Oresteia.

Up there on that roof there sits a chorus— it never leaves. They sing in harmony, but the song is harsh, predicting doom. Drinking human blood has made them bold— they dance in celebration through the house. The family's Furies cannot be dislodged. Sitting in the home, they chant their song, the madness that began all this, each in turn cursing that man who defiled his brother's bed.

Oresteia (Agamemnon) In this passage, the Trojan slave Cassandra, who's been cursed with the ability to see the future and have no one listen to her, talks about the future of Agamemnon's family (the House of Atreus). Agamemnon's father has done some horrible things--murdering children in his own family and feeding them to his brother, in revenge for his brother stealing his kingdom and wife ("the man who defiled his brother's bed"). The gods, Cassandra predicts, will punish Agamemnon, both for his father's sins and for his own. Cassandra alludes to a chorus, but this is not the chorus of old men that we've met previously. Rather Cassandra is talking about the Furies, the monstrous goddesses who punish the wicked for their sins. The Furies personify the cycle of "blood for blood" that Cassandra has alluded to: as the cycle goes on, generation after generation, the Furies develop a craving for more blood--a gory metaphor that suggests the way that revenge has a way of perpetuating itself over time.

So you'd force this man's acquittal? Behold, Justice! Can a son spill his mother's blood on the ground, Then settle into his father's halls in Argos?

Oresteia (Eumenides) After Apollo has testified in Orestes' favor, the Furies once again take the stand, mocking what the god has just said. While Apollo has argued that Orestes in fact carried out justice by killing his mother, the Furies find this argument laughable. To them, the fact that Orestes has killed his mother is unforgivable. They believe that he should be cast out of society altogether, rather than eventually take his father Agamemnon's place as king of Argos. The Furies' powerful argument illustrates the true difficulty of this case. Although Orestes seeks justice, he himself is a murderer, and an agent of vengeance. Apollo calls for justice, but the Furies point out his hypocrisy, given his investment in vengeance in this play's prequel, The Libation Bearers.

And now you'd vent your anger, hurt the land? Consider a moment. Calm yourself. Never Render us barren, raining your potent showers Down like spears, consuming every seed. By all my rights I promise you your seat In the depths of earth, yours by all rights— Stationed at hearths equipped with glistening thrones, Covered with praise! My people will revere you.

Oresteia (Eumenides) After the Athenian court has rendered a verdict against the Furies, Athena seeks to appease the older goddesses, begging them not to harm Athens. Forever wise and rational, Athena offers the Furies an alternative to taking vengeance on her city, promising that if they do not, she will make them honored, patron goddesses. This passage shows Athena's devotion to her city, as well as her deep understanding of the Furies. Despite having voted against them in the trial, Athena clearly sees that the Furies have been stripped of their purpose in life. By offering them the position of patron goddesses of Athens, she is essentially offering them a new role in the world. Instead of being feared and despised, they will instead be revered and worshipped.

Embrace the one? Expel the other? It defeats me. I will appoint the judges of manslaughter, Swear them in, and found a tribunal here For all time to come. My contestants, Summon your trusted witnesses and proofs, Your defenders under oath to help your cause. And I will pick the finest men of Athens, Return and decide the issue fairly, truly— Bound to our oaths, our spirits bent on justice.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Although Athena is the all-powerful goddess of wisdom, she admits that she alone cannot decide whether Orestes or the Furies are correct. Instead, she decides to create a trial by jury--in Greek myth, the first trial by jury to ever take place, setting a precedent "for all time to come." The action that Athena takes here is emblematic of Athenian values. Athenians believed in justice, but also found the ideas of community and democracy to be equally important. Even though Athena is the patron goddess of the city, she still does not consider herself entitled to judge Orestes' fate. This decision illustrates Athena's fairness and rationality, while also emphasizing the importance of central Athenian values.

Lord Apollo, now it is your turn to listen. You are no mere accomplice in this crime. You did it all, and all the guilt is yours.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Apollo and the Furies confront each other; Apollo tells the Furies that they have no right to torment Orestes, while the Furies retort that Apollo, too, is at fault. It is important to note that in the prequel to this play, The Libation Bearers, Apollo ordered Orestes to kill his mother, and then promised to protect him after the deed was done. The Furies believe, therefore, that Apollo is at fault as well as Orestes. This quote emphasizes the Furies' obsession with vengeance, as well as the power that the gods wield within this narrative. Even though the Furies know that Apollo was the driving force behind the plan to kill Clytemnestra, they can only punish his mortal instrument, Orestes. While the Furies cannot actually harm Apollo, however, they do call attention to what they view as his hypocrisy at punishing Clytemnestra for murdering her husband, but protecting Orestes for murdering his mother. This debate highlights the tangled and often contradictory web that vengeance creates, particularly within the House of Atreus.

They disgust me. These grey, ancient children never touched By god, man, or beast—the eternal virgins. Born for destruction only, the dark pit, They range the bowels of Earth, the world of death, Loathed by men and the gods who hold Olympus.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Apollo visits his protectee, Orestes, who has been tormented by the Furies for killing his mother, Clytemnestra. Reassuring Orestes that he has more power than the Furies, Apollo then turns his anger on the goddesses themselves, voicing his contempt and "disgust" for them, and mocking their ugliness and age. Apollo's attitude towards the Furies reveals the deep hatred that the Olympian gods feel for the Furies, despite the fact that they carry out the necessary function of avenging interfamilial murders. This mindset towards the Furies, embodiments of vengeance, reveals a change in Apollo since this play's prequel, The Libation Bearers. In that drama, Apollo urges Orestes to avenge his father, and acts as a force that pushes vengeance forward. Here, however, he has turned away from vengeance and violence--a change that indicates a drastic difference in this play's worldview, as opposed to its bloody predecessors.

Marriage of man and wife is Fate itself, Stronger than oaths, and Justice guards its life. ... I say your manhunt of Orestes is unjust. Some things stir your rage, I see. Others, Atrocious crimes, lull your will to act.

Oresteia (Eumenides) As Apollo and the Furies continue their debate, they touch on the difference between the bonds of mother and child, and those of man and wife. The Furies argue that because Orestes killed his own flesh and blood, he is at fault. Apollo, however, responds that the connection between a husband and a wife is fated to be, and that their bond is guarded by "Justice" itself. (Implicit in these arguments is also the sexism that undergirds Greek society at the time—Apollo is seen as more "correct" here because Clytemnestra not only violated a sacred bond in killing her husband, but also acted distinctly un-feminine.) This debate illustrates the tangled web of allegiances that vengeance creates. Although Apollo and the Furies are each trying to convince the other, they will never actually agree on who is in the right. Apollo also brings up another crucial concept: the idea of justice. In accusing the Furies--goddesses of vengeance--of being unjust, he is implying that there is a difference between vengeance and justice. This attitude differs from Apollo's beliefs in The Eumenides' prequel, The Libation Bearers, in which he commands Orestes to perform an act of vengeance (killing his mother) in order to bring about justice. This shift highlights the evolution in The Eumenidestowards a system of justice, rather than a system of vengeance.

You'll give me blood for blood, you must! Out of your living marrow I will drain My red libation, out of your veins I suck my food, My raw, brutal cups— Wither you alive, Drag you down and there you pay, agony For mother-killing agony! And there you will see them all. Every mortal who outraged god or guest or loving parent: Each receives the pain his pains exact.

Oresteia (Eumenides) As the Furies find Orestes cowering at the shrine of Athena, they threaten him, demanding their vengeance. Their brutal, bloody language vividly illustrates their violent worldview. The language they use also illuminates their eye-for-an-eye mentality. The Furies' logic is very simple: since Orestes has shed his mother's blood, his blood must be shed in turn. Or in their words: "Each receives the pain his pains exact." This point of view contrasts with that of Apollo and Orestes, who believe that since Orestes was avenging his father, he does not deserve to be punished for his own murder of his mother. It is this debate that will become central as the play continues.

Oh I can hear the father now Or the mother sob with pain At the pain's onset...hopeless now, The house of Justice falls.

Oresteia (Eumenides) As the trial begins, the Furies take the stand first and begin to testify. They do so by painting a picture of a world without justice, referencing fathers and mothers betrayed by their offspring, and the "fall" of the "house of Justice." This argument, though vivid, also illustrates the Furies' fundamental failure of understanding. They believe that justice and vengeance are the same thing, and that a world without vengeance is the same thing as a world without justice. In contrast, Athena understands that justice is fair and rational, while vengeance is bloody and senseless. The Furies, however, come from an older world, one without courts of law, judges, or juries. Having devoted their whole existence to vengeance, they are unable to understand a world in which reason and justice would prevail but vengeance would fall by the wayside.

Here from the heights, terror and reverence, My people's kindred powers Will hold them from injustice through the day And through the mild night. Untouched by lust for spoil, this court of law Majestic, swift to fury, rising above you As you sleep, our night watch always wakeful, Guardian of our land—I found it here and now.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Before the Athenian judges cast their lots in the case of Orestes v. the Furies, Athena notes the historic importance of this moment. She decrees that she has founded the first ever trial-by-jury court in history, and that Athens will be a city of justice and fairness forevermore. It's vital to remember that The Eumenidesis a deeply nationalistic piece, as well as a religious one; at its heart is not simply loyalty to the gods, but also loyalty to the city of Athens. In writing the play, Aeschylus seeks not only to tell a compelling story, but to explain how Athens became the pinnacle of reason and civilization that it was in his day. The Eumenidestells the story of justice overcoming vengeance, and is also the origin story of Athens. This fair and enlightened city is embodied both by Athena and her judges, whom the audience members and readers are meant to see as paragons of virtue and wisdom.

Hold out your hands, if they are clean No fury of ours will stalk you, You will go through life unscathed. But show us the guilty—one like this Who hides his reeking hands, And up from the outraged dead we rise, Witness bound to avenge their blood We rise in flames against him to the end!

Oresteia (Eumenides) Having confronted Orestes in Athena's temple, the Furies weave a spell in order to trap him there. As they do so, they explain the rules under which they carry out their grim task, promising not to harm anyone innocent of sin. Their only purpose, they say, is to punish the guilty, especially those (like Orestes) who hide among the innocent. During their chant, the Furies also make clear the close ties that they have to the dead, explaining how they "rise" from "the outraged dead" in order to exact vengeance. To the Furies, the dead (such as Clytemnestra) are just as important as the living (like Orestes). They believe that it is their duty to put the dead to rest, and that the only way to do so is through bloody and violent vengeance.

Queen Athena, Under Apollo's orders I have come. Receive me kindly. Curst and an outcast, No suppliant for purging...my hands are clean.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Having reached Athens and the temple of Athena, Orestes begs the goddess to shelter him from the avenging Furies. His prayer illustrates his deep faith in both Apollo and Athena, demonstrating the immense power of the gods over human life within this play—and presenting Orestes as a worthy hero because of his piety. Orestes' claim that his "hands are clean," meanwhile, allows us to understand that Orestes does not view himself as guilty of his mother's murder. He has followed divine orders, and carried out what he believes to be justice, and is therefore free of sin or corruption. At the same time, however, Orestes considers himself to be unfairly "curst" by the actions of the Furies.

This is the life I offer, It is yours to take. Do great things, feel greatness, greatly honoured. Share this country cherished by the gods.

Oresteia (Eumenides) In order to appease the enraged Furies after they have lost in court, Athena offers them a place as patron goddesses of Athens. Ever tactful and insightful, Athena offers the Furies a chance to leave behind their identity as despised and feared agents of vengeance. Instead, she prophecies that they will be honored, and will do great things for Athens. The story of The Eumenides, we must remember, is also the story of the rise of Athens. As patron goddesses, Athenian citizens believed, the Furies gave the city prosperity and greatness which helped it rise to the pinnacle of the known Greek world. Thus by showing how the Furies came to love and protect Athens (and in doing so became the Eumenides, "the kindly ones"), Aeschylus is also illustrating how Athens' rise to greatness began.

The woman you call the mother of the child Is not the parent, just a nurse to the seed, The new-sown seed that grows and swells inside her. The man is the source of life—the one who mounts.

Oresteia (Eumenides) In the midst of the trial, Apollo tries to explain why the death of Orestes' father outweighs his murder of his mother. In doing so, he turns to a common Ancient Greek idea about parenthood: that a child is incubated in the womb of its mother, but truly belongs only to its father, who provided the "seed" for its conception. Although tremendously sexist (and unscientific), it is this argument that eventually wins the day. Apollo has essentially proved that Orestes' familial bond to his father was more important than that to his mother; and that therefore, it made sense for him to turn against his mother after she killed his father. It is important to note that the trial of Orestes v. the Furies, along with the ideological struggle of justice v. vengeance, also contains the age-old struggle of male v. female. Just as Apollo proves that male trumps female in terms of family ties (and social power), so too will male triumph over female in the trial (which is judged only by men), as Orestes prevails over the Furies.

You, you younger gods!— You have ridden down The ancient laws, wrenched them from my grasp— And I, robbed of my birthright, suffering, great with wrath, I loose my poison over the soil, aieee! Poison to match my grief comes pouring out my heart, Cursing the land to burn it sterile and now Rising up from its roots a cancer blasting leaf and child, Now for Justice, Justice!—cross the face of the earth The bloody tide comes hurling, all mankind destroyed.

Oresteia (Eumenides) Learning that they have lost the trial, the Furies launch into a horrifying and vengeful rant, vowing to pay back all those who have wronged them. In reality, the ancient goddesses are terrified. In losing the trial, they have essentially lost their identity--unable to punish someone whom they believe deserves vengeance, they have been robbed of their purpose in life. The only recourse, in their understanding of the world, is to wreak vengeance on those who have decided against them. They are essentially portrayed as being unwilling to admit that they have been usurped by the "younger gods" and the polis of Athens itself. Once again, the Furies imply that since vengeance has been thwarted, justice has as well. They truly do not understand that the two concepts are different, and can even exist in opposition to each other. Rather than understanding that in this instance justice has defeated vengeance, the Furies instead believe that justice on earth has come to an end, and destruction is near.

Two sides are here, and only half is heard.

Oresteia (Eumenides) The Furies and Orestes turn to Athena for judgement, and the goddess agrees to hear both sides of the story. Her measured, balanced language contrasts with that of the Furies, who utterly reject logic and moderation. Athena also differs from Apollo, who is clearly biased in Orestes' favor. In short, in both her language and her actions, Athena exemplifies justice personified. She is determined to render a fair judgment, and will do so by learning as much as she can about both the Furies' and Orestes' points of view. More broadly, Athena's logic and fairness represent the system of values that sit at the core of the city of Athens (as the Athenian Aeschylus portrays it). A city known for its enlightenment and intellect, Athens here represents a place where justice and reason will always prevail.

You—how can you sleep? Awake, awake—what use are sleepers now? I go stripped of honour, thanks to you, Alone among the dead. And for those I killed The charges of the dead will never cease, never— I wander in disgrace, I feel the guilt, I tell you, Withering guilt from all the outraged dead! But I suffered too, terribly, from dear ones, And none of my spirits rages to avenge me. I was slaughtered by his matricidal hand. See these gashes—Carve them in your heart!

Oresteia (Eumenides) The Furies sleep, exhausted from chasing Orestes, even as their prey is spirited away by Apollo and Hermes. As they slumber, however, the ghost of the murdered Clytemnestra emerges and berates them for failing in their task. Her speech helps audiences and readers to understand the Furies' motivation, and their purpose in life. In their worldview, the dead cannot rest until they are avenged. Clytemnestra is a tortured ghost precisely because her murderer (and son) still lives, unpunished, despite having corrupted his familial bond with his mother. Clytemnestra's appearance also emphasizes the vivid presence of the dead in The Eumenides, a fact that is true in many Greek dramas. To the characters in the play, the dead are still an active and powerful presence, and letting them down or going against their wishes can have terrible consequences.

ATHENA: ...you are set On the name of justice rather than the act. LEADER: How? Teach us. You have a genius for refinements. ATHENA: Injustice, I mean, should never triumph thanks to oaths. LEADER: Then examine him yourself, judge him fairly. ATHENA: You would turn over responsibility to me, To reach the final verdict? LEADER: Certainly. We respect you. You show us respect.

Oresteia (Eumenides) The Furies try to convince Athena that they are in the right, but she quickly explains to them that she is interested in justice rather than simply shows of justice. Flattered that the goddess has shown them "respect," the Furies agree to abide by whatever she decides. This moment is a crucial one within the play. Up until now, the Furies have remained convinced that only they can decide Orestes' fate. Impressed and placated by Athena, however, they have given that power over to her. In essence, the Furies--embodiments of vengeance--have acknowledged the authority of Athena, an embodiment of (relatively) unbiased justice. This shift from vengeance to justice will continue to gain momentum as the play continues, and parallels Aeschylus' praise of the ideals of Athens itself.

But were we just or not? Judge us now. My fate is in your hands. Stand or fall I shall accept your verdict.

Oresteia (Eumenides) With the Furies having agreed to accept Athena's verdict, Orestes does the same. Up until now, he has maintained his innocence. Now, however, he admits that perhaps he and Apollo were wrong to seek Clytemnestra's death, and leaves it up to Athena to decide. With Orestes' agreement, the trial begins, and Athena becomes a judge. As this passage makes clear, the shift from vengeance to justice is rapidly occurring. The Furies, agents of vengeance, have agreed to follow Athena's judgement, and Orestes, who himself has carried out bloody vengeance, has done the same, even admitting that his original act may have been wrong.

Such oracles are persuasive, don't you think? And even if I am not convinced, the rough work of the world is still to do. So many yearnings meet and urge me on

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) (lines 297-299) This passage comes at the end of Orestes's explanation for why he has returned again to Argos. Standing at Agamemnon's grave with Electra and the chorus, Orestes describes how Apollo sent an oracle commanding him to return home to avenge his father's death. If he should refuse, he would suffer horrible diseases and exile from every human community. His description is vivid and horrifying, enough to convince anyone to do the god's bidding. However, Orestes explains that other reasons have motivated his return besides Apollo's threats. His sorrow for his father, his poverty, and his anger over Aigisthos's usurpation of his father's throne. This distinction between different motivations proves to be crucial at the climax of the play, when suddenly all of Orestes's resolve disappears just as he is about to kill Clytamnestra. While his personal reasons for seeking vengeance drive his actions through most of the play, it is Apollo's command that forces him to complete the deed. This is significant because it shows that while Orestes was willing to take personal responsibility for his matricide, his actual motivation at the moment of the murder comes from a divine source. Because Apollo was responsible for the actual crime being carried out, he will protect Orestes from the Furies when they come to claim their retribution in the Eumenides.

For word of hate let word of hate be said, cries Justice. Stroke for bloody stroke must be paid. The one who acts must suffer. Three generations long this law resounds.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) (lines 311-314) The chorus says these words at the end of their first section in the kommos. They are the mouthpieces of the primitive law of retribution, which mandated that blood be paid for with blood. One who failed to avenge the murder of a kinsman was as guilty as if he had committed the crime himself. Justice demands that evil deeds be punished by further evil deeds. The chorus says these words in order to stir up hate and anger in Orestes and Electra. They insist that the old order of law must be respected, and that Agamemnon's murderers must pay for their crimes. While the chorus celebrates Orestes's intention to kill the killers, they show little awareness or concern for his fate after he has completed the act. They focus only on the immediate claims of Justice, which demand that Orestes turn murderer himself. It will be up to Apollo and Athena in the Eumenides to break this cycle of bloodshed.

They killed an honored man by cunning, so they die by cunning, caught in the same noose.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) (lines 556-558) Orestes speaks these words as he begins to outline his plan for killing Aigisthos. It is significant that in laying out this plan, he makes no mention of what he intends to do about Clytamnestra. However, while he does not address it directly, he alludes to his intention to kill his mother in this quote, as he speaks of the killers in the plural form. Orestes's statement pays homage to the old laws laid out by the chorus in the quote discussed previously. Although warriors in battle should confront their enemies directly, Clytamnestra and Aigisthos forfeited that right when they tricked Agamemnon into making himself vulnerable to murder. Thus, Orestes is justified in his approach to the confrontation. This line is echoed again nearing the climax of the play, when Clytamnestra asks who is shouting up and down the halls, and the servant tells her that the dead are killing the living. Immediately recognizing that Orestes has plotted against her, Clytamnestra says, "By cunning we die, precisely as we killed" (line 888).

Justice turns the wheel. 'Word for word, curse for curse be born now,' Justice thunders, hungry for retribution. 'stroke for bloody stroke be paid. The one who acts must suffer.'

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) After Electra and Orestes have resolved to murder their mother, the Chorus approvingly comments upon their actions. Although this quote speaks of "Justice," it could just as easily refer to vengeance—proof of how closely the Greeks related these two concepts. For the characters in the play, the idea of justice is fairly simple—an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, "word for word," and "curse for curse." They believe, quite simply, that those who sin must be paid in kind. It is also important to note how closely aligned the idea of justice is with violent acts. The world in which the characters live is dangerous and bloody. Justice is not measured and restrained, but bloody and murderous. They believe that justice means answering violence with violence, and that only by avenging their father and killing their mother can the siblings "turn the wheel" and right their fortunes.

You light to my eyes, four loves in one! I have to call you father, it is fate; and I turn to you the love I gave my mother— I despise her, she deserves it, yes, and the love I gave my sister, sacrificed on the cruel sword, I turn to you.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) After being reunited, Electra and Orestes vow to be loyal to each other, in clear contrast to their treacherous mother. Here Electra tells Orestes that she loves him more than other sisters do their brothers, because he must also serve the roles of father, mother, and sister for her. She is referring to the murder of her father Agamemnon, the sacrifice of her sister Iphigenia (who was murdered by Agamemnon's "cruel sword," presenting a seeming conflict of interest for Electra), and the imminent death of her mother Clytemnestra. Once again Aeschylus makes clear that the ties between Electra and Orestes can never be broken. They are wholly committed to each other, exemplifying the purity and strength of true familial bonds. As Electra promises her love for her brother, we also witness traditional Greek gender roles at work. Considered weaker because of her gender, Electra places herself under her brother's protection, giving him not just the love of a sibling, but also the respect of a daughter for her parents.

For our enemies I say, raise up your avenger, into the light, my father— kill the killers in return, with justice! So in the midst of prayers for good I place this curse for them.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) After being unable to pray for peace for her father's spirit, Electra instead, at the prompting of the chorus, begs the gods for vengeance. Her prayer highlights the close bond within The Libation Bearersbetween piety and vengeance. Although most of Electra's words involve "prayers for good" for herself and her brother, she also includes curses for Clytemnestra and her lover, Aegisthus. This mixture of good wishes and bad is not contradictory to Electra or the Chorus—they believe that both vengeance and reverence can exist within a truly pious and reverent person, because part of the holy law is vengeance. It is also significant that Electra prays not to the gods, but to her father. To this abandoned daughter, Agamemnon has become like a god; although he is buried, she still considers him powerful enough to avenge his own murder, through the actions of his descendants. In the midst of this deeply vengeful prayer, it is important to note that Electra has made no attempts to kill her mother herself. This lack of action is illustrative of the role of women within this type of Greek drama. Although Electra may hope for her mother's death, as a pious and proper Greek woman, she would never carry out the deed herself (in contrast to the murderous and bloody Clytemnestra, who overstepped the bounds of her gender in taking action against her husband).

Your pain is mine. If I laugh at yours, I only laugh at mine.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) After hiding behind his father's burial mound, Orestes reveals himself to his sister Electra, and the two tearfully reunite. While Electra is incredulous, Orestes reassures her that he has returned. Beyond the joy of siblings at seeing each other for the first time in years, this quote demonstrates the extent to which Orestes and Electra are presented as two halves of the same whole. Their love goes beyond that of ordinary siblings; they feel each others' emotions, and are matched both physically and mentally. The harmony and strength of Orestes' and Electra's bond stands in contrast with the un-motherly and un-wifely behavior of Clytemnestra. While she has desecrated every familial bond in which she participates, the queen's children have managed to keep their relationship pure and ideal. They illustrate the way that family members should treat each other, providing an example for Greek audiences of proper familial love.

What to say when I pour the cup of sorrow? What kindness, what prayer can touch my father? Shall I say I bring him love for love, a woman's love for her husband? My mother, love from her? I've no taste for that, no words to say as I run the honeyed oil on father's tomb.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) As Electra worships at the tomb of her father along with the libation-bearing slaves, she struggles to find words to express her sorrow. Unlike the hypocritical Clytemnestra, Electra is pious and dutiful. Although her father is dead and gone, she is still loyal to him, and feels conflicted about bringing meaningless offerings from her mother. This passage also illustrates the complex gender politics at work within The Libation Bearers. Although a woman, Electra identifies far more strongly with her father than with her mother, and believes that her allegiance lies firmly with him. She scorns the queen for having betrayed "a woman's love for her husband," and believes that Clytemnestra has failed in her duties as both a wife and a mother. Lastly, Electra's near-obsession with her father helps readers to understand how present he still is for her, despite his death. To Electra, her father is still a powerful force within her life, and she will do whatever it takes to ensure that his memory is honored and his death avenged.

Apollo will never fail me, no, his tremendous power, his oracle charges me to see this trial through.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) As Orestes resolves to kill his mother and begins to plan the murder, he prays to Apollo, his patron god, to aid him in this bloody act. Orestes has previously been ordered by Apollo's oracle to avenge his father, so his faith in the god makes sense. His belief that his vengeance has been approved by divine command, meanwhile, demonstrates the close link that the Greeks believed to exist between vengeance and piety. Far from being condemned by the gods, murder and vengeance are indeed encouraged, under the right circumstances. That Orestes has specifically prayed to Apollo is also significant. The god of prophecy, Apollo can see the future, and predict it through his oracles. Orestes therefore believes that this murder is not simply divinely sanctioned, but actually destined to be. Although he wishes to murder his mother, he also believes that he has no choice in the matter—it is his fate to do so, as ordered by the god of prophecy.

Oh god, the life is hard. The old griefs, the memories mixing, cups of pain, so much pain in the halls of the house.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) As part of their deception, Electra and Orestes pretend that Orestes has died, devastating their old nurse, Cilissa. As she grieves, she looks back on all the woes of the house of Atreus, reminding us of the many sorrows that this royal house has faced. In Greek drama, a character's fate is often determined simply by which family they belong to. In the case of Atreus' descendants, they are destined to lives of pain, suffering, and loss. Their familial bonds, and nothing else, have doomed them. Although she has not taken part in these dramas, Cilissa has witnessed most of them during her long life, letting audiences and readers know that even though we are not members of the house of Atreus, we can still grieve for the terrible troubles that have befallen them.

The proud dead stir under the earth, They rage against the ones who took their lives...

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) As the Chorus of libation-bearing women enters, along with Electra, they recall the terrifying events of the night before, remembering how a mysterious voice warned them that the dead were coming to avenge themselves upon the living. In Greek drama, dreams and prophecies often prove true, as is most definitely the case in this moment. The quote also explains why the queen, Clytemnestra, has sent them out to tend to the grave of her husband (whom she loathed and murdered). Although Clytemnestra may put on a show of piety, this is clearly because fear rather than actual reverence. She is worried about what the voice in the night might prophecy, rather than actually regretful about murdering her husband. We also can understand from this quote the influence of the dead within this narrative. Rather than being considered gone and at peace, the dead are a constant presence for all the characters on the stage. Although they may no longer be alive, their power has not waned; through Orestes' matricide, the spirit of Agamemnon is essentially avenging himself from beyond the grave.

Oh but a man's high daring spirit, who can account for that? Or woman's desperate passion daring past all bounds? She couples with every form of ruin known to mortals. Woman, frenzied, driven wild with lust, twists the dark, warm harness of wedded love—tortures man and beast!

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) Electra and Orestes leave to carry out the beginning of their vengeance plot; the Chorus, meanwhile, stays behind, taking on their traditional role of commenting on the action (rather than taking part in it). Taking a broader view of the events, they marvel at the differences between a man and a woman. Men, they say, carry out deeds of "daring," while women carry out those of "desperate passion." They then go on to condemn women's passion and lust, accusing women of torturing all those around them with their malicious desires. This passage clearly illustrates the dark and disturbing view that the ancient Greeks had of womanhood. Although women like Electra are pious, obedient, and pure, women like Clytemnestra—who acted on her desires and seized power for herself—are considered forces of evil and destruction. Although the Chorus never names Clytemnestra, they are clearly referring to her, emphasizing what a negative example the character of Clytemnestra is meant to be for audiences—however justified her actions might seem to be to modern readers.

But she who plotted this horror against her husband, she carried his children, growing in her womb and she—I loved her once and now I loathe, I have to loathe—what is she? Some moray eel, some viper born to rot her mate with a single touch, no fang to strike him just the wrong, the reckless fury in her heart!

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) Having killed his mother, Orestes stands over her, also holding the robes that she used to trap and kill his father years ago. He grows increasingly hysterical, horrified both by what he has done and by the extent of his mother's crimes. This passage displays Orestes' conflicted emotions about his mother, as well as his frantic emotional state after killing her. Although the play may seem to be on the side of vengeance, it does not flinch from showing murder's terrible after effects. Orestes' deep hatred of women is significant here as well. He describes his mother as an "eel" or a "viper," recalling how she killed his father with nothing more than "the reckless fury in her heart." In his muddled mental state, Orestes grows increasingly upset and disgusted by women, his loathing based in his simultaneous hatred for his mother, and his guilt over her death.

Slave, the slave!— where is he? Hear me pounding the gates? Is there a man inside the house? For the third time, come out of the halls!

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) In order to enter the palace of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra (and eventually kill them both), Orestes poses as a traveler and knocks on the gates. Aegisthus ignores the guest at his doors, however, causing Orestes to become increasingly enraged. The Ancient Greeks firmly believed that hospitality to strangers and guests was one of the most important virtues that a person could display. That Aegisthus does not come out to greet a guest is proof of his unfitness to rule a kingdom, and—even more basically—his failings as a person. When someone does finally come to greet Orestes, it is not Aegisthus, but Clytemnestra. This act is yet another disgrace for the royal couple. Clytemnestra, a woman, is clearly in charge, and has taken her husband's place as head of the house. Both gender roles and rules of hospitality have been upended, and as a result Clytemnestra and Aegisthus' rule is able to be presented as monstrous and perverse in yet another fundamental way.

If the serpent came from the same place as I, and slept in the bands that swaddled me, and its jaws spread wide for the breast that nursed me into life and clots stained the milk, mother's milk, and she cried in fear and agony—so be it. As she bred this sign, this violent prodigy so she dies by violence. I turn serpent, I kill her. So the vision says.

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) In the midst of Orestes' and Electra's plot to murder their mother, the Chorus of slave women reveals that Clytemnestra had a terrible nightmare the evening before, in which she nursed a serpent that then killed her. Orestes then (correctly) interprets the dream, understanding that the serpent symbolizes himself; having nursed at his mother's breast as an infant, he will now murder her as a man. Most obviously, this dream once again confirms that prophecies and visions tell the truth within Greek myths and drama. On a deeper level, the dream also reveals the fascinating and tangled web of gender roles and familial bonds within the play. Although his mother nurtured and nursed him, it is still pious for Orestes to kill her, due to her disloyalty to his father. Meanwhile it is Clytemnestra's very womanliness—the fact that she nursed and cared for her baby—that will eventually doom Clytemnestra to death. Above all else, the dream illustrates the violence that hangs over the house of Atreus at all times. Clytemnestra takes her nightmare seriously because she knows how easily one can be betrayed by one's own kin (just as she betrayed her husband). At all times, she is on the lookout for potential signs of vengeance—but despite her prophetic dream, she cannot escape her fate.

Ah, a riddle. I do well at riddles. By cunning we die, precisely as we killed. Hand me the man-axe, someone, hurry!

Oresteia (Libation Bearers) The first part of his plan complete, Orestes kills Aegisthus, half-avenging his father's death. With the halls of her palace in tumult, Clytemnestra emerges and calls for her "man- axe." To the Greeks, Clytemnestra's desire for a weapon would have been a massive violation of her role as a woman. An emasculating and dangerous presence, she is calling for a weapon that does not belong to her gender, proof (to the Greeks) of her evil and ambition. Despite all her negative qualities, it is also important to note that Clytemnestra is a deeply intelligent and perceptive character. She knows almost instantly what is happening, and reacts to her fate with calculation and resolve. To the last, she is a violent and active character, exemplifying everything that a woman should not be within the Greek tradition.

All the elements of an Epic poem are found in Tragedy, but the elements of a Tragedy are not all found in the Epic poem.

Poetics

Evening may therefore be called 'the old age of the day,' and old age, 'the evening of life,' or, in the phrase of Empedocles, 'life's setting sun.

Poetics

Tragedy is an imitation not of men but of a life, an action.

Poetics Aristotle points to the importance of plot in structuring tragedy. The role of characters, of "men," is secondary to plot or a life consisting of "action."

Homer has many other claims to our praise, but above all because he alone among poets is not oblivious of what he should compose. Namely, the poet himself should do as little of the talking as possible; for in those parts he is not being an imitator.

Poetics Aristotle praises Homer as being a poet who focuses on the true imitation of life, rather than a poet focused on himself as a poet. Homer has the command and self-restraint necessary to take a back-seat to the content and to the subjects he represents in epic.

It is, moreover, evident from what has been said that it is not the function of the poet to relate what has happened but what may happen-what is possible according to the law of probability and necessity. The poet and the historian differ not by writing in verse and in prose. The work of Herodotus might be put into verse, and it would still be a species of history, with meter no less than without it. The true difference is that one relates what has happened, the other what may happen. Poetry, therefore, is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history; for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular.

Poetics At one point, Aristotle compares the tragic poet to the historian. Since the dramatist conventionally deals with legendary heroes, both he and the historian are concerned with the re-creation of action from the past; but the object of the historian is the exact reporting of fact, that of the poet the rearrangement of detail for emotional potential

Now it is evident that one must use the same practices in tragic actions as in everyday life, when it is a question of making things appear pitiable or fearful, or important or probable. There is just this much difference, that the emotional effects ought to carry across to the spectator without explicit argument, while the proofs have to be deliberately produced in speech, by the speaker, and come as a result of the speech. For what would be the use of a speaker if things appeared in the wished-for light without the speech?

Poetics Discussing the use of "speech," Aristotle points to its ability to be put to use in argument and rhetoric and also to communicate feelings and emotions. An actor must be able to convey emotions intuitively through his skill with the effects of speech and to be able to manipulate the spectator's thoughts through intellectual argument.

Since tragedy is an imitation of persons who are better than average, one should imitate the good portrait | painters, for in fact, while rendering likenesses of their sitters by reproducing their individual appearance, they also make them better-looking; so the poet, in imitating men who are irascible or easygoing or have other traits of that kind, should make them, while still plausibly drawn, morally good, as Homer portrayed Achilles as good yet like other men.

Poetics How to tell difference from the Republic? Tragedy is a serious form that treats high subjects. Aristotle believed tragic poets should follow the lead of portrait painters who emphasized the best aspects of an individual by downplaying their negative traits, and highlighting the subject's goodness and morality.

As to the origin of the poetic art as a whole, it stands to reason that two | operative causes brought it into being, both of them rooted in human nature. Namely (1) the habit of imitating is congenital to human beings from childhood...and so is (2) the pleasure that all men take in works of imitation.

Poetics Poetry is a core part of human nature, and the impulse to write poetry comes from an innate curiosity, a tendency to imitate the things around us. Like this desire to imitate the things around us, the pleasure taken in poetry—in works of imitation—is a natural response in all men.

Poetry and politics, or poetry and any other art, do not have the same standards of correctness.

Poetics Poetry, for Aristotle, was separate from the standards existing for morality and politics, a position that differs from Plato, who held that poetry and politics were to be judged by the same standards. Poetry existed to be judged on its own terms, as outlined in the Poetics.

So, then, the artistically made plot must necessarily be single rather than double, as some maintain, and involve a change not from bad fortune to good fortune but the other way round, from good fortune to bad, and not thanks to wickedness but because of some mistake of great weight and consequence, by a man such as we have described or else on the good rather than the bad side.

Poetics The most successful tragic plot, Aristotle argues, the one that will evoke the most pity, fear, and complexity, is one where the hero experiences a fall, a fall from good fortune to bad fortune because of a chance event or an accident not related to his own will.

We have established, then, that tragedy is an imitation of an action which is complete and whole and has some magnitude (for there is also such a thing as a whole that has no magnitude)...So, then, well-constructed plots should neither begin nor end at any chance point but follow the guidelines just laid down

Poetics Tragedy must have a plot and must imitate an action that is whole. That is to say, it must have a beginning, a middle, and an end, and must adhere to this order and wholeness to be a coherent, well-constructed work.

But most important of all is the structure of the incidents. For Tragedy is an imitation, not of men, but of an action and of life, and life consists in action, and its end is a mode of action, not a quality. Now character determines men's qualities, but it is by their actions that they are happy or the reverse. Dramatic action, therefore, is not with a view to the representation of character: character comes in as subsidiary to the actions. Hence the incidents and the plot are the end of a tragedy; and the end is the chief thing of all.

Poetics Aristotle emphasizes that narrative is about movement: by its very nature, narrative involves some sort of progression in time from point A to B to C. Aristotle recognizes that there are other parts of the text that we should also consider, like character and spectacle, but there's no doubting that his number one priority is the narrative. Aristotle may be talking about Greek tragedy, but we could apply this same outlook to other, modern texts, too. Take movies, for instance: glitzy FX, costumes, and camerawork may add to the experience, but if there isn't a basic script to provide the foundation for all this extra stuff, then the movie's probably gonna seem kind of hollow. Aristotle uses character as another example: folks may be happy or sad, but it's the narrative that clues us in on why they're happy or sad. According to Aristotle, narratives are about life, and life involves action. This means that we can turn our attention to character—but always in relation to the narrative itself. Aristotle sees this as the hallmark of tragedy, arguing that the most successful works are those that put narrative first. In works of this type, the narrative is made up of a sequence of events, and it's this particular sequence that shapes our verdict as to whether the tragedy lives up to its name.

All things were together, infinite both in amount and in smallness, for the small, too, was infinite. And because all things were together, nothing was distinguishable on account of its smallness; for air and aether covered all things, both being infinite, for these are the most important [ingredients] in the total mixture both in number and in size. Since the portions of the great and of the small are equal in amount, for this reason, too, all things will be in everything. Nor is it possible for them to be apart, but all things have a portion of everything. Since it is impossible for there to be a least thing, they cannot be separated, nor come to be by themselves. They must be now, just as they were in the beginning, all together. In all things many things are contained, and an equal number both in the greater and in the smaller of the things that are separated off.

Presocratics Anaxagoras: Mind and the Divisibility of Material Ingredients

The boundless is the original material of existing things; further, the source from which existing things derive their existence is also that to which they return at their destruction, according to necessity.

Presocratics Anaximander of Miletus: The Boundless

There is a body distinct from the elements, the boundless, which is not air or water, in order that the other things may not be destroyed by their infinity. The elements are in opposition to each other: air is cold, water moist, and fire hot. Therefore, if any one of them were infinite, the rest would have ceased to be by this time. Thus, he said that what is infinite is something other than the elements, and from it the elements arise.

Presocratics Anaximander of Miletus: The Boundless By Aristotle

It differs in rarity and density according to the substances <it becomes>. Becoming finer, it comes to be fire; being condensed, it comes to be wind, then cloud; and when still further condensed, it becomes water, then earth, then stones, and the rest come to be from these. He too makes motion eternal and says that change also comes to be through it.

Presocratics Anaximenes: Air By Theophrastus Physical objects differ only in how condensed the air is in a given space: stuff is airy when less compressed and solid when more compressed.

Substances are unlimited in multitude and atomic ... and scattered in the void. When they approach one another or collide or become entangled, the compounds appear as water or fire or as a plant or a human. But all things are atoms, which he calls forms; there is nothing else.

Presocratics Atomists: Atoms in the Void

Everything that happens, happens of necessity. Motion is the cause of the production of everything, and he calls this necessity.

Presocratics Atomists: The Mind as Material By Diogenes Laertius

I will tell you of a twofold process. At one time it [i.e., the cosmos] grew together to be one only out of many, at another it parted to pieces so as to be many instead of one. Fire and Water and Earth and the mighty height of Air. And also, apart from these, dreaded Strife of equal weight to each, and Love in their midst, equal in length and breadth. . . . All these elements are equal and of the same age in their creation. But each presides over its own area, and each has its own character, and they dominate in turn in the course of time.

Presocratics Empedocles: Four elements and Two Forces 1. All things come from the four elements—or roots, as he calls them—of earth air, fire and water. While the four elements had been part of Greek thinking for some time, Empedocles expanded their role to be the four fundamental substances from which all things emerge, and this became the foundation of physics within Europe for the next 2,000 years. 2. two forces are responsible for the mixing and unmixing of the four elements, namely Love and Strife, which function as physical forces of attraction and repulsion. Here he describes how the four elements and two forces first emerged from the cosmos. All change that occurs in the cosmos results from the combination, separation and regrouping of these indestructible elements, depending on the amount of Love and Strife that is present.

Things seen are the objects of sight, and things heard are the objects of hearing. We accept things as real when we see them without hearing them and vice versa. So we would have to accept things as real when we think about them without seeing or hearing them. But this would mean believing in things like a chariot racing on the sea. Therefore reality is not the object of thought, and cannot be comprehended by it.

Presocratics Gorgias: Skepticism We have several ways of perceiving things, and each is its own authority, independent of others. For example, I hear a dog barking and I accept its reality without seeing it. However, with my mental faculty of conception I can perceive something impossible, like a chariot racing on the sea. Since this faculty of perception is its own authority, it undermines the reliability of all types of perception which conflict with it. It thus makes our knowledge of existence impossible.

It is wise to listen, not to me, but to the Logos, and to agree that all things are one. . . . Though this Logos is true always, yet people are as unable to understand it both when they hear it for the first time and when they have heard it at all again. For, though all things come into being in accordance with the Logos, people seem as if they had no experience of it.

Presocratics Heraclitus: Change and the Logos

It is immovable in the bonds of mighty chains, without beginning and without end; since coming into being and passing away have been driven afar, and true belief has cast them away. It is the same, and it rests in the self-same place, abiding in itself. And thus it remains constant in its place; for hard necessity keeps it in the bonds of the limit that holds it fast on every side. For this reason it is not permitted to "what is" to be infinite; for it is in need of nothing; while, if it were infinite, it would stand in need of everything.

Presocratics Parmenides: The One

There are only two ways of inquiry that can be thought of. The first, namely, that it is (and that it is impossible for it not to be), is the way of belief, for truth is its companion. The other way of inquiry, namely, that it is not (and cannot be), is a path that none can learn at all. For you cannot know what is not, nor can you express it. It is the same thing that can be thought and that can be. What can be spoken and thought must be; for it is possible for it to be, but impossible for nothing to be. . . . One path only is left for us to speak of, namely, that it is. In this path are very many signs that "what is" is uncreated and indestructible; it is complete, immovable, and without end.

Presocratics Parmenides: The One Proof of "The One", part 1: there are just two paths of inquiry: the path of assertion in which you maintain that something is, and the path of denial in which you maintain that something is not. If we think about these two paths, we'll see that the path of denial is nonsense: you cannot know what is not, and you can't even express it. That leaves us with the remaining path of assertion: the only meaningful way of inquiry is to assert that something is. We can say anything that we want about reality, so long as we don't use the word "not", since that would involve the path of denial. Establishing the path of assertion is only preliminary. The next step is to draw out the implications of asserting only that something is. The result is that we arrive at the qualities of the One, namely, that it is eternal, indivisible, unmoving, and round.

Man is the measure of all things: of existing things that they exist; of non-existing things that they do not exist. Concerning the gods, I am unable to know either that they exist or that they do not exist or what form they have. For there are many obstacles to knowledge: the obscurity of the matter and the brevity of human life.

Presocratics Protagoras: Relativism & religious agnosticism (meaning no knowledge) The truth of all judgments is relative to our human thinking; that is, human preference is the standard by which we judge everything. But this may be understood two different ways. On the one hand, it could mean that all judgments are relative to the individual: each person is the measure of all things. For example, my judgment that honey is sweet makes it true that honey is sweet. On the other hand, it could mean that all judgments are relative to our culture: human society is the measure of all things. For example, society's assessment that honey is sweet makes it true that honey is sweet. But perhaps the most significant part of his famous statement involves the second half, which maintains that humans are the ultimate standards "of existing things, that they exist; of non-existing things, that they do not exist." This implies that his relativism is not just about how honey tastes to us, or even ethical matters such as the kinds of actions that we find good or bad. It also extends to truths about the physical world itself: whether or not the rock in front of me actually exists is also dependent upon human beings - either an individual perceiver or a social convention. We've already noted Xenophanes' commitment to some form of relativism, but Protagoras' position is more sweeping because it extends to the most fundamental judgments about what does or does not exist.

...not to pick up <food> which had fallen, to accustom them not to eat self-indulgently or because it fell on the occasion of someone's death . . . not to touch a white rooster, because it is sacred to the Month and is a suppliant; it is a good thing, and is sacred to the Month because it indicates the hours, and white is of the nature of good, while black is of the nature of evil . . . not to break bread, because friends long ago used to meet over a single loaf just as foreigners still do, and not to divide what brings them together. Others <explain this practice> with reference to the judgment in Hades, others say that it brings cowardice in war, and still others that the whole universe begins from this.

Presocratics Pythagoras: Mathematical Relations

All the akousmata referred to in this way fall under three headings: (a) Some indicate what something is; (b) others indicate what is something in the greatest degree; and (c) others what must or must not be done. (a) The following indicate what something is. What are the Isles of the Blest? Sun and Moon. What is the oracle at Delphi? The tetractys, which is the harmony in which the Sirens sing. (b) Others indicate what is something in the greatest degree. What is most just? To sacrifice. What is the wisest? Number, and second wisest is the person who assigned names to things. What is the wisest thing in our power? Medicine. What is most beautiful? Harmony

Presocratics Pythagoras: Mathematical Relations

He may have gotten this idea from seeing that the nourishment of all things is moist, and that even the hot itself comes to be from this and lives on this (the principle of all things is that from which they come to be)—getting this idea from this consideration and also because the seeds of all things have a moist nature; and water is the principle of the nature of moist things.

Presocratics Thales of Miletus: Water By Aristotle Moisture seems to be an essential element in all living things. Water also seems like a reasonable choice since it's at a middle state between earth and air insofar as some moist substances can evaporate and turn into air, and others solidify and turn to slime or earth.

Mortals suppose that the gods are born and have clothes and voices and shapes like their own. The Ethiopians make their gods black and snub-nosed; the Thracians say theirs have blue eyes and red hair. If oxen and horses or lions had hands, and could paint with their hands, and produce works of art as people do, horses would paint the forms of the gods like horses, and oxen like oxen, and make their bodies in the image of their various kinds.

Presocratics Xenophanes: Anthropomorphism and Pantheism Satirical attack on anthropomorphic conceptions of the gods, particularly as held by Homer, Hesiod and Pythagoras. Anthropomorphism is the tendency to ascribe human qualities to non-human things, and this occurs in religion when we describe divine beings as having human qualities. His point is that something in human nature prompts us to view divine beings as having human characteristics just like our own. According to Xenophanes, traditional Greek religion depicts the gods as having the worst possible human characteristics. He writes, "Homer and Hesiod have ascribed to the gods all things that are shameful and disgraceful among mortals, such as theft, adultery and the deception of one another." For Xenophanes, no level of religious anthropomorphism is acceptable, and we need to envision the gods in a radically different way.

The essence of God is of a spherical form, in no respect resembling humans. The universe can see and hear, but cannot breathe; it is in all its parts intellect, and wisdom, and eternity. God is one, the greatest among gods and humans, who is like mortals neither in form nor in thought. He sees all over, thinks all over, and hears all over. But without toil he sways all things by the thought of his mind. He always remains in the same place, without moving at all; nor does it suit him to go about here or there. There never was nor will be a person who has certain knowledge about the gods and about all the things I speak of. Even if he should chance to say the complete truth, yet he himself does not know that it is so. But all may have their opinions.

Presocratics Xenophanes: Anthropomorphism and Pantheism View that God is identical with nature as a whole—a position that we now called pantheism, literally meaning "all God". The standard view of God in Western civilization, in ancient times as well as now, is that God created the world, but exists independently of it: God has his own unique identity, and the created universe has its own. Pantheism, though, denies that God and the universe have their own independent identities; rather, they are one and the same thing. The spherical form of God is the form of the universe itself, which was a common conception of the cosmos in early Greek astronomy. Thus, for Xenophanes, God is the totality of the universe in its spherical form. Even though God and the universe are one and the same, God still has some type of mental qualities

If god had not made brown honey, people would think that figs are far sweeter than they do think of about them.

Presocratics Xenophanes: Anthropomorphism and Pantheism and relativism

The first asserts the non-existence of motion on the ground that that which is in motion must arrive at the half-way stage before it arrives at the goal. This we have discussed above. [i.e., "It is always necessary to traverse half the distance, but these are infinite, and it is impossible to get through things that are infinite."] The second is the so-called 'Achilles', and it amounts to this, that in a race the quickest runner can never overtake the slowest, since the pursuer must first reach the point whence the pursued started, so that the slower must always hold a lead. ... The third is that already given above, to the effect that the flying arrow is at rest [i.e., "If everything when it occupies an equal space is at rest, and if that which is in locomotion is always occupying such a space at any moment, the flying arrow is therefore motionless."

Presocratics Zeno: Paradoxes Zeno's paradoxes of motion summarized by Aristotle in "Physics".

But once I caught him when he was open like Silenus' statues, and I had a glimpse of the figures he keeps hidden within: they were so godlike -- so bright and beautiful, so utterly amazing -- that I no longer had a choice: I just had to do whatever he told me.

Symposium Alcibiades, pg. 68/lines 216e-217a In his speech praising Socrates, Alcibiades develops the image of Socrates further. This quote implies that Alcibiades has seen more of the true Socrates than the others, allowing him to make his claims with authority. His speech shows that Socrates is the perfect image of love.

Socrates was trying to prove to them that authors should be able to write both comedy and tragedy: the skillful tragic dramatist should also be a comic poet.

Symposium Apollodorus, pg. 77/line 223d The tone of discourse switches throughout the speeches, particularly between Aristophanes and Agathon's speeches, suggesting that Plato thinks writers must conquer comedy and tragedy to be proficient. This work by Plato is praised for presenting serious philosophical thought in a playful manner. This quote supports the idea of accessibly presenting philosophy and that writers should write both genres. Placing it in the final moments of the text increases its importance, leading some to believe it was a major message Plato was trying to convey.

Love is simply the name for the desire and pursuit of the whole.

Symposium Aristophanes, pg. 29/line 192e The purpose of searching for love in a person is explained by Aristophanes in his origin story of love. The end of the desire of love is finding the person who constitutes our other half, in order to heal the wound created by Zeus. This end is denied by Diotima, who asserts that we will only look for our other halves' if that person is good. She also denies the idea that the end of this desire is only finding the person, since that is only the beginning of the purpose in the pursuit for love.

It's only when people are devoted exclusively to one special kind of love that we use these words that really belong to the whole of it; 'love' and 'in love' and 'lovers.'

Symposium Diotima, pg. 51/line 205d Everyone pursues love differently, whether through making money, sports, or philosophy; but according to Diotima, only passionate, exclusive love between people is truly called love. It allows her to make her argument that love is outside of solely individual relationships, but then she also only grants the term love to one path: the rites of Love leading to philosophy.

Reproduction and birth in beauty.

Symposium Diotima, pg. 53/line 206e The purpose of love is to give birth in beauty, whether in body or in soul. Reproduction only happens out of beauty and is the tool for mortals to have any type of immortality, whether through childbirth or ideas. This answers the question set up by Phaedrus as to what the purpose of love is, which he and the other speeches had not fully addressed--other than Aristophanes, whom Diotima challenges.

That in that life alone, when he looks at Beauty in the only way that Beauty can be seen--only then will it become possible for him to give birth not to images or virtue (Because he's in touch with no images), but to true virtue (Because he is in touch with the true Beauty).

Symposium Diotima, pp. 59-60/line 212a Being pregnant in soul allows a person to see the true Form of Beauty, something people pregnant in body cannot achieve. These people have learned all of the rungs on the ladder of love, becoming lovers of wisdom, so they can see the Form of Beauty. Having been pregnant in soul through the process, this sight of actual Beauty as opposed to a mere image of it allows the person to give birth to true virtue.

Love does not occur only in the human soul; it is not simply the attraction we feel toward human beauty: it is a significantly broader phenomenon. It certainly occurs within the animal kingdom, and even in the world of plants. In fact, it occurs everywhere in the universe.

Symposium Eryximachus, pg. 20/line 186b This quote at the beginning of Eryximachus' speech introduces his topic of love being harmony between opposites in nature and in people. It is much more than just interpersonal relationships. This is important since he is the only one of the first five speeches to branch out beyond individual human actions and relationships in discussing love, making it something different altogether.

Our customs, then, provide for only one honorable way of taking a man as a lover. In addition to recognizing that the lover's total and willing subjugation to his beloved's wishes is neither servile nor reprehensible, we allow that there is one--and only one--further reason for willingly subjecting oneself to another which is equally above reproach: that is subjection for the sake of virtue.

Symposium Pausanias, pg. 18/line 184c The importance of virtue as an end in seeking love is introduced by Pausanias. This will prove an important point in Diotima's "Ladder of Love." Pausanias, who focuses on custom and law in his speech, here describes the custom in Athens surrounding mentor-student relationships. Complicated as they are, they serve to stave off common love. The practices serve to make these relationships seem shameful, even though they are encouraged. When searching for virtue, however, even if the other person is vile, the person subjecting himself cannot be shamed as he did an honorable thing.

If only there were a way to start a city or an army made up of lovers and the boys they love. Theirs would be the best possible system of society, for they would hold back from all that is shameful, and seek honor in each other's eyes.

Symposium Phaedrus, pg. 10/line 178e Phaedrus, who speaks of courage, explains that people feel the most shame in front of the person they love. If they were at battle, they would never do anything shameful, such as leave ranks or drop weapons, in front of his beloved, but would battle on, questing to be a hero. This underlies the undercurrent of honor in the speeches. Only Diotima explicates that a person seeks glory and honor in their quest for immortality.

So such a man or anyone else who has a desire desires what is not at hand and not present, what he does not have, and what he is not, and that of which he is in need; for such are the objects of desire and love.

Symposium Socrates, pp. 42-43/line 200e Socrates examines and deconstructs Agathon's speech by questioning him, and they arrive at this point, which allows them to refute Agathon's assertions of Love being beautiful and good. Rather, Socrates proves, Love is not good or beautiful since he desires these things. Their conceptions of love should have been based more on the image of the lover than on the image of the beloved they had been incorrectly using. This shifts from the previous speeches, setting up Diotima's arguments.

Amazed, and shocked to the bottom of his soul By what his eyes had seen, felt His hackles rise, his voice choke in his throat. As the sharp admonition and command From heaven had shaken him awake, he now Burned only to be gone, to leave that land Of the sweet life behind. (4.379-395)

The Aeneid Duty (4.379-395) What could make someone so eager "to leave that land / Of the sweet life behind"? Duty, that's what! Mercury (who was sent down by Jupiter) has just reminded Aeneas of his responsibilities to establish a kingdom for his son Ascanius, which won't happen if he spends all his time with Dido, helping her build her city.

"Learn fortitude and toil from me, my son, Ache of true toil. Good fortune learn from others. My sword arm now will be your shield in battle And introduce you to the boons of war. When, before long, you come to man's estate, Be sure that you recall this. Harking back For models in your family, let your father, and uncle, Hector, stir your heart."

The Aeneid Family (12.595-602) After so many images of Aeneas playing the role of devoted son, here we see him playing the role of father, instructing Ascanius in how to be a proper warrior. At the same time, he holds up a different family member, the Trojan warrior Hector, who died at Troy, as another role model for his son.

"Did you suppose, my father, That I could tear myself away and leave you? Unthinkable; how could a father say it? Now if it pleases the powers about that nothing Stand of this great city; if your heart Is set on adding your own death and ours To that of Troy, the door's wide open for it. "

The Aeneid Family (2.857-863) In this passage from Book II, which precedes Aeneas's flight from burning Troy with his father upon his back, Virgil distinguishes Aeneas for his piety. This sense of duty has two components. The first is a filial component: Aeneas is a dutiful son to Anchises, and he wants to escape with him to safety. Aeneas makes it plain that his strong sense of family loyalty will not allow him to abandon Anchises. The second is a social component: Anchises, Aeneas argues, cannot choose to stay and die at Troy without affecting many others. Anchises is a patriarch, and were he to resign himself to death, he would effectively choose death for them all. These words of Aeneas's lift Anchises out of the self-indulgence of despair and remind him of the leadership role that his seniority and status demand. In the ensuing episodes, even after his death, Anchises serves as a wise counselor to his son as Aeneas makes his way toward Italy.

"Give up what I began? Am I defeated? Am I impotent To keep the king of Teucrians from Italy? The Fates forbid me, am I to suppose?"

The Aeneid Fate (1.56-59) These words are spoken by Juno near the beginning of Book 1, when she sees Aeneas and company happily sailing toward Italy. The irony is that, to each and every one of these questions, the answer is "Yes." Juno will have to give up what she began (destroying all the Trojans), and in this sense she is defeated. The king (Aeneas) of the Teucrians (Trojans) will make it to Italy and found a new city. Why? Because it is fated. That said, the poem would be pretty boring if Juno just sat down and accepted all that, wouldn't it? The thing is, the Romans didn't see "Fate" and "Free Will" as completely opposite concepts; even if it was fated that something would happen, there still was a lot of wiggle room over how it would happen. Juno decides to make the most of that wiggle room, and make the Trojans' life a living underworld until they can finally found their city.

"Here are signs for you to keep in mind: When in anxiety by a stream apart Beneath shore oaks you find a giant sow, Snow-white, reclining there, suckling a litter Of thirty snow-white young: that place will be You haven after toil, site of your town. And have no fear of table-biting times; The fates will find a way for you; Apollo Will be at hand when called."

The Aeneid Fate (3.527-535) These words by Helenus shine a more positive light on prophecy than the scene featuring Cassandra from Book 2. By telling the Trojans what to look out for, Helenus gives them a guiding light - in the form of a radiantly white pig - to encourage them on their journey and let them know then they've arrived.

"Look, how we've devoured our tables even!" Iulus playfully said, and said no more, For that remark as soon as heard had meant The end of wandering: even as it fell From the speaker's lips, his father caught it, stopped The jesting there, struck by the word of heaven

The Aeneid Fate (7.151-157) This famous scene is an example of a common theme in ancient literature: that people often fulfill prophecies unexpectedly, without even knowing it. The most famous example of this is Oedipus, who fulfills a prophecy saying he would kill his father and marry his mother, because of his ignorance of who his true parents are. Often, the fulfillment of a prophecy will be something relatively harmless - as in this case, where the prediction that Aeneas and his men will be reduced to eating their plates really just means they will end up chowing down on pizza (the dough is thought of as the plate).

...fated queen, drew out the night With talk of various matters, while she drank Long draughts of love. Often she asked of Priam, Often of Hector; now of the armor Memnon, The son of Dawn, had worn; now of the team Diomedes drove; now of the huge Achilles.

The Aeneid Love (1.1021-1026) Do you think Dido really cares about all this stuff? Or do you think she really just wants an excuse to listen to Aeneas talk? If you think the second option is the better one, how do you think this passage relates to the Aeneid's depiction of love more generally? To get the ball rolling, consider this: if love is powerful enough to unite people who have different interests, couldn't it also make people forget their own interests (such as, say, sailing to Italy and founding a new home for the Trojan people)? Hmm...

"My men, who have endured still greater dangers, God will grant us an end to these as well. You sailed by Scylla's rage, her booming crags, You saw the Cyclops' boulders. Now call back Your courage, and have done with fear and sorrow. Some day, perhaps, remembering even this Will be a pleasure."

The Aeneid Memory (1.271-278) In contrast to the first quotation under this theme, these lines, which follow relatively closely upon them, show that not all reflection on the past is nostalgic. Thinking about the past can also provide directions for how to act in the present - as, in this case, Aeneas reminds his men of how they met past challenges, thereby encouraging them to endure new ones. (In fact, he even imagines how, in the future, they will be able to look back on present challenges as also in the past - try wrapping your head around that!) How do you think this theme relates to the idea of the Aeneid as a whole, which can be read as a poem set in what for Virgil was the distant past, yet which also alludes to the events of what for him was the present day?

Even while speaking she let slip the reins And slid fainting to earth. Little by little, Growing cold, the girl detached herself From her whole body and put down her head, Death's captive now, upon her strengthless neck, And let her weapons fall. Then, with a groan for that indignity, Her spirit fled into the gloom below.

The Aeneid Mortality/death (11.1125-1132) These lines describe the death of the warrior-queen Camilla. Like the first poem in this section, they place the emphasis squarely on the physical process of dying. Notice anything else weird about this passage? That's right, the final two lines here are exactly the same as the two last lines of the poem. In the final scene of the poem, it is easy to see what Virgil means by "that indignity" - Turnus has just been stabbed by Aeneas while he is begging for mercy. Here, though it's a little less clear. OK, so Camilla did die because she got hit with an arrow in her exposed breast, something that would certainly seem to qualify as an indignity. The immediate context of these lines almost makes you think that death itself is the indignity. What do you think? Could it be both? Why do you think Virgil used the same phrasing here and at the end of the poem anyway?

"All in the nearby crowd you notice here Are pauper souls, the souls of the unburied. Charon's the boatman. Those the water bears Are souls of buried men. He may not take them Shore to dread shore on the hoarse currents there Until their bones rest in the grave, or till They flutter and roam this side a hundred years; They may have passage then, and may return To cross the deeps they long for."

The Aeneid Mortality/death (6.436-447) As the Sibyl gives Aeneas her tour, we see more of the greatest hits of the ancient view of the underworld. We say "greatest hits" because most scholars now believe that the underworld as depicted in Book 6 of the Aeneid is a composite of various belief systems, and probably does not, in its entirety, reflect the true religious beliefs of Virgil of his Roman contemporaries. What literary reasons might have influenced Virgil to include this grim spectacle of the unburied, homeless dead?

"Roman, remember by your strength to rule Earth's peoples—for your arts are to be these: To pacify, to impose the rule of law, To spare the conquered, battle down the proud."

The Aeneid Power (6.1151-1154) This passage is part of the speech Anchises delivers to Aeneas in the underworld, in Book VI, as he unfolds for his son the destiny of Rome. Virgil places his own political ideals in the mouth of the wise father, warning that the Roman nation should be more merciful than violent, even in its conquests. Virgil here propounds the values for which he wants Rome to stand, and which he believes he has, in his own time, let guide him. Anchises's rhetoric here about the Roman Empire's justification for its conquering of other peoples expresses the same justification that Aeneas and the Trojans make for settling in Rome. They defend their invasion by arguing that they bring justice, law, and warfare—with which they "pacify" and "battle down"—to the conquered. Especially in modern times, critics and readers have taken passages such as this one and labeled them propaganda for the Augustan regime. This criticism is valid, but when the values of a regime are expressed by a poet who shares those values, the line between art and propaganda becomes blurry.

There's a spot Where at the mouth of a long bay an island Makes a harbor, forming a breakwater Where every swell divides as it comes in And runs far into curving recesses. There are high cliffs on this side and on that, And twin peaks towering heavenward impend On reaches of still water. Over these, Against a forest backdrop shimmering, A dark and shaggy grove casts a deep shade, While on the cliffside opposite, below The overhanging peaks, there is a cave With fresh water and seats in the living rock, The home of nymphs. Here never an anchor chain, Never an anchor's biting fluke need hold A tired ship.

The Aeneid Primitiveness (1.216-233) These lines describe the natural harbor where the Trojans first come to land on the shore of Libya. Although we don't know it yet when we first read these lines, on returning to them they can be interpreted as a reminder that Carthage is only in its infancy when the story begins. They also look forward to the scenes of primitive Italy, which will appear in the second half of the poem.

"Another thing: when you have crossed and moored Your ships ashore, there to put up your altars For offerings, veil your head in a red robe Against intrusions on your holy fires, Omen-unsettling sights amid your prayers. You and your company retain this ritual Veiling in the future, let your progeny Hold to religious purity thereby."

The Aeneid Religion (3.545-552) When performing a sacrifice, it was very important to make sure you got all the details of the ritual right - otherwise you might mess up the whole thing. As a rule of thumb, whenever you hear a character in the Aeneid talk about how a tradition that happens "now" (i.e., in the world of the Aeneid) will continue to happen in the "future," there's a good chance that it might refer to something in the present in which Virgil is writing. In this case, Helenus is probably referring to the return of old-time religion that Augustus brought about, in order to distract people from his radical political reforms. Heck, in this statue the guy even had himself depicted veiling his head while making a sacrifice - just like Helenus says.

"Poor fellow, how Could rashness take you this way? Don't you feel A force now more than mortal is against you And heaven's will has changed? We'll bow to that!"

The Aeneid Religion (5.602-605) Were we suggesting that Augustus might have been using religion as a pretext? We were. But hey, it isn't only real people who can do it - quasi-fictional characters like Aeneas can, too! In this case, Aeneas is invoking the gods to break up the boxing match between Entellus and Dares, saying that Entellus clearly has a divinity helping him. The only problem is, Virgil hasn't told us about any gods getting involved, so it's a safe bet Aeneas didn't see one either. So long as the gods often act invisibly, the chances are high that someone will claim they've been acting one way or the other when the moment calls for it.

"A further thing is this: your friend's dead body— Ah, but you don't know!—lies out there unburied, Polluting all your fleet with death While you are lingering, waiting on my counsel Here at my door. First give the man his rest, Entomb him; lead black beasts to sacrifice; Begin with these amends."

The Aeneid Religion (6.217-223) Another common feature of many religions is that of obligation to the dead. In ancient Greek and Roman religion, an unburied dead body could be said to "pollute" the living. We put "pollute" in quotation marks because it isn't simply a question of stinking up the place, though that did probably happen (sorry, but it's true). More than that, though, the "pollution" could take on an almost magical character, which could only be washed away by performing certain rituals - like the sacrifice of black beasts the Sibyl recommends.

Wars at an end, harsh centuries then will soften, Ancient Fides and Vesta, Quirinus With Brother Remus, will be lawgivers, And grim with iron frames, the Gates of War Will then be shut: inside, unholy Furor, Squatting on cruel weapons, hands enchained Behind him by a hundred links of bronze, Will grind his teeth and howl with bloodied mouth.

The Aeneid Warfare (1.391-398) The first part of this quotation might not look like a statement about war. But think about it: if Virgil is saying that Fides (faith) and Vesta (the goddess of the hearth) and the local divinities Quirinus and Remus will only come back when war is at an end, isn't that kind of like he's saying that war makes all those things disappear? That's a pretty heavy statement about war. If you're not convinced, just look at the end of this passage, which paints a frightening picture of a fearsome demon shut up inside the Gates of War. We wouldn't want to mess with that guy. What are the Gates of War? Just check out the sixth quotation in this section and you'll get your answer.

"Here is the chance You've prayed for: now to hack them up with swords! The battle is in your hands, men. Let each soldier Think of his wife, his home; let each recall Heroic actions, great feats of our fathers. Down to the surf we go, while they're in trouble, Disembarking, losing their footing. Fortune Favors men who dare!"

The Aeneid Warfare (10.386-393) Here Turnus encourages his men to attack Aeneas, who has just returned from meeting with the Arcadians and Etruscans. He uses a complex set of ideas to motivate them to fight: 1) love for their families, whom (Turnus implies) they wouldn't want to see fall into the hands of the Trojan invaders, and 2) a sense of pride, in their desire to live up to the deeds of their ancestors. Last of all, Turnus points out that the moment is now: they'll never have a better opportunity to give the Trojans hell. The last two lines, which could also be discussed in terms of the theme of Fate and Free Will basically express the idea that people make their own luck. Do you think that Turnus is right in thinking this or not?

"Much earlier than this I should have wished—and wiser it would have been— To meet and take decisions in this crisis, Not with the enemy at the walls, as now."

The Aeneid Power (11.410-413) Unlike most of the other quotations we have looked at under this theme, which extol the virtues of power, these lines by King Latinus express the frustration of the powerless. It is always nicer to be able to make decisions for yourself, in your own good time, rather than under the threat of a bunch of marauding Trojans destroying your city - don't you think?

Besides other admirable qualities, this man had that fine physique, strength of arm, and dignified appearance by which rustics and soldiers are most attracted. For they do not look through to the soul, nor have a keen eye for virtue, but they stop at the outward excellencies of the body, and admire daring, and strength, speed in running, and size, and consider these as fit qualifications for the purple robe and diadem.

The Alexiad

Even now I cannot believe that I am still alive and writing this account of the emperor's death. I put my hands to my eyes, wondering if what I am relating here is not all a dream - or maybe it is not a dream: perhaps it is a delusion and I am mad, the victim of some extraordinary and monstrous hallucination. How comes it that when he is dead I am still numbered among the living?

The Alexiad

It is extraordinary that nobody nowadays under the stress of great troubles is turned into stone or a bird or a tree or some inanimate object; they used to undergo such metamorphoses in ancient times (or so they say), though whether that is myth or a true story I know not. Maybe it would be better to change one's nature into something that lacks all feeling, rather than be so sensitive to evil. Had that been possible, these calamities would in all probability have turned me to stone.

The Alexiad

It is high time I should turn to my father's reign and relate how and why he became ruler. ... I should not spare him for being my father if anything he did struck me as not well done; nor shall I gloss over his successes to avoid the under-current of suspicion that it is a daughter writing about her father, for in either case I should be wronging truth.

The Alexiad

It seems to me that if a body is sickly, the sickliness is often aggravated by external causes, but that occasionally, too, the causes of our illnesses spring up of themselves, although we are apt to blame the inequalities of the climate, indiscretion in diet, or perhaps, too, the humours of our animal juices, as the cause of our fevers. Similarly, like these physical ailments, I fancy the weakness of the Romans at that time was partly the cause of these deadly plagues.

The Alexiad

Meanwhile, an event occurred which is worth relating, as it, too, contributed to this man's reputation and good fortune. For I hold that the fact that all the rulers of the West were prevented from attacking him, tended very materially to the barbarian's successful progress. Fate worked for him on all sides, raised him to kingly power, and accomplished everything helpful to him.

The Alexiad

Now, Homer says of Achilles that when he shouted, his voice gave his hearers the impression of a multitude in an uproar, but this man's cry is said to have put thousands to flight. Thus equipped by fortune, physique and character, he was naturally indomitable, and subordinate to nobody in the world. Powerful natures are ever like this, people say, even though they be of somewhat obscure descent.

The Alexiad

The stream of Time, irresistible, ever moving, carries off and bears away all things that come to birth and plunges them into utter darkness, both deeds of no account and deeds which are mighty and worthy of commemoration; as the playwright [Sophocles] says, it 'brings to light that which was unseen and shrouds from us that which was manifest.' Nevertheless, the science of History is a great bulwark against this stream of Time; in a way it checks this irresistible flood, it holds in a tight grasp whatever it can seize floating on the surface and will not allow it to slip away into the depths of Oblivion.

The Alexiad

Time in its irresistible and ceaseless flow carries along on its flood all created things, and drowns them in the depths of obscurity, no matter if they be quite unworthy of mention, or most noteworthy and important, and thus, as the tragedian says, "he brings from the darkness all things to the birth, and all things born envelops in the night".

The Alexiad

As the ocean is stormier than all other seas, and as Germany is conspicuous for the terrors of its climate, so in novelty and extent did this disaster transcend every other, for all around were hostile coasts, or an expanse so vast and deep that it is thought to be the remotest shoreless sea. Some of the vessels were swallowed up; many were wrecked on distant islands, and the soldiers, finding there no form of human life, perished of hunger, except some who supported existence on carcases of horses washed on the same shores.

The Annals

It seems to me a historian's foremost duty to ensure that merit is recorded, and to confront evil words and deeds with the fear of posterity's denunciations.

The Annals

Rome at the beginning was ruled by kings. Freedom and the consulship were established by Lucius Brutus. Dictatorships were held for a temporary crisis. The power of the decemvirs did not last beyond two years, nor was the consular jurisdiction of the military tribunes of long duration.

The Annals

So obscure are the greatest events, as some take for granted any hearsay, whatever its source, others turn truth into falsehood, and both errors find encouragement with posterity.

The Annals

Some as they roamed outside the camp were cut down by the centurions or by soldiers of the praetorian cohorts. Some even the companies gave up in proof of their loyalty. The men's troubles were increased by an early winter with continuous storms so violent that they could not go beyond their tents or meet together or keep the standards in their places, from which they were perpetually tom by hurricane and rain.

The Annals

No honour was left for the gods, when Augustus chose to be himself worshipped with temples and statues, like those of the deities, and with flamens and priests.

The Annals (Book 1) Augustus was the emperor who demanded worship from his subjects. He wanted the glory of the gods for himself, so Tacitus includes these events in his annals. Comparing Augustus to the deities which were worshipped in those days, Tacitus claims that Augustus chose to replace those deities with himself forcefully. He built temples for himself, demanding the devotion of his subjects.

The histories of Tiberius, Caius, Claudius, and Nero, while they were in power, were falsified through terror, and after their death were written under the irritation of a recent hatred. Hence my purpose is to relate a few facts about Augustus -- more particularly his last acts, then the reign of Tiberius, and all which follows, without either bitterness or partiality, from any motives to which I am far removed.

The Annals (Book 1) Tacitus opens his comprehensive historical annals with a declaration of intent. Choosing to remain neutral, he wants to record an accurate history of the Roman emperors. He saw that most of the historical records of Tiberius, Caius, Claudius, and Nero were corrupted by either fear of speaking ill or hatred and bitterness after the rulers' deaths. He wants to be the exception, to present an accurate and unbiased account of the political, economical, and social era through which these men ruled.

Every great example of punishment has in it some injustice, but the suffering individual is compensated by the public good.

The Annals (Book 14) Tacitus compares the application of justice to its consequence. If a member of the public is punished, part of his punishment may be excessive. This is necessary, however, among a large populace because the accused becomes a representative. By enacting an excessive punishment on one man, the government is stating publicly that it will not be bothered to deal with the same foolishness again. This in turn motivates the rest of the people to avoid committing the same offense, knowing the authorities will be more harsh the next time.

The desire for safety stands against every great and noble enterprise.

The Annals (Book 15) In his annals, Tacitus is addressing primarily political concerns. He stumbles across a commonly understood concept: great accomplishment entails a great deal of risk as well. If a man is willing to sacrifice his safety in order to accomplish something bigger than himself, he will probably succeed. In terms of the government, this means taking risks concerning personal safety in order to build infrastructure.

"Forever quarreling is dear to your heart, and wars and battles; and if you are very strong indeed, that is a god's gift. ... Yes, old sir, all this you have said is fair and orderly. Yet here is a man who wishes to be above all others, who wishes to hold power over all, and to be lord of all, and give them their orders, yet I think one will not obey him. "

The Iliad (1.177-178; 286-289) Even though Agamemnon is talking about Achilleus as a warrior, what he has to say could be applied to any sort of competition. Basically, he's saying that Achilleus isn't any better than he is, because whatever advantage he has is because some god has helped him. When Agamemnon makes this complaint during his big argument with Achilleus, he reveals an underlying factor in their contest: the competition for political authority. Did you ever wonder why, when someone seeks political office, we say that he or she is "running" for it? Or, for that matter, why we call it a race?

"There is nothing alive more agonized than man of all that breathe and crawl across the earth."

The Iliad (Book 17) Zeus speaks these words to the horses of Achilles' chariot, who weep over the death of Patroclus in Book 17. Grim as they are, the lines accurately reflect the Homeric view of the human condition. Throughout The Iliad, as well as The Odyssey, mortals often figure as little more than the playthings of the gods. Gods can whisk them away from danger as easily as they can put them in the thick of it. It is thus appropriate that the above lines are spoken by a god, and not by a mortal character or the mortal poet; the gods know the mortals' agony, as they play the largest role in causing it. While gods can presumably manipulate and torment other animals that "breathe and crawl across the earth," humanity's consciousness of the arbitrariness of their treatment at the hands of the gods, their awareness of the cruel choreography going on above, increases their agony above that of all other creatures. For while the humans remain informed of the gods' interventions, they remain powerless to contradict them. Moreover, humans must deal with a similarly fruitless knowledge of their fates. The Iliad's two most important characters, Achilles and Hector, both know that they are doomed to die early deaths. Hector knows in addition that his city is doomed to fall, his brothers and family to be extinguished, and his wife to be reduced to slavery. These men's agony arises from the fact that they bear the burden of knowledge without being able to use this knowledge to bring about change.

"Cattle and fat sheep can all be had for the raiding, tripods all for the trading, and tawny-headed stallions. But a man's life breath cannot come back again— . . . Mother tells me, the immortal goddess Thetis with her glistening feet, that two fates bear me on to the day of death. If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy, my journey home is gone, but my glory never dies. If I voyage back to the fatherland I love, my pride, my glory dies. . . ."

The Iliad (Book 9) With these words in Book 9, Achilles rejects the embassy of Achaean commanders come to win him back to the war effort. His response here shows that Agamemnon's effrontery—which he discusses earlier in his speech—does not constitute the sole reason for his refusal to fight. Achilles also fears the consequences in store for him if he remains in Troy. His mother, Thetis, has told him that fate has given him two options—either live a short but glorious life in Troy or return to Phthia and live on in old age but obscurity. As he confronts this choice, the promise of gifts and plunder—cattle, fat sheep, stallions—doesn't interest him at all. Such material gifts can be traded back and forth, or even taken away, as his prize Briseis was. In contrast, the truly precious things in the world are those that cannot be bought, sold, seized, or commodified in any way. These include glory and life itself. The choice that Achilles must make in this scene is between glory and life; it is not merely a matter of whether to accept the gifts or to continue protesting Agamemnon's arrogance. At this point in the epic, Achilles has chosen life over glory, and he explains that he plans to return to Phthia. However, the allure of glory later proves irresistible when he finds a compelling occasion for it—avenging the death of his beloved friend Patroclus.

"a man takes from his brother's slayer the blood price, or the price for a child who was killed, and the guilty one, when he has largely repaid, stays still in the country, and the injured man's heart is curbed, and his pride, and his anger when he has taken the price; but the gods put in your breast a spirit not to be placated, bad, for the sake of one single girl."

The Iliad Compassion & forgiveness ( 9.632-638) Aias reminds Achilleus of the traditional ways in which people put aside their differences and learn to forgive. He cannot understand why Achilleus persists in being so hard-hearted, and encourages him to have a bit more sympathy with the other Achaeans. Unfortunately, things are bound to get worse before they get better.

"Antilochos, I myself, who was angry, now will give way before you, since you were not formerly loose-minded or vain. It is only that this time your youth got the better of your intelligence. Beware another time of playing tricks on your betters"

The Iliad Compassion & forgiveness (23.601-605) In this scene, Homer depicts a conflict getting defused before it gets out of hand. (To see the context, read Book 23, or check out our summary.) There are two interesting ingredients in this reconciliation (though you can probably find others). The first is understanding: Menelaos forgives Antilochos because he was young once too, and knows what that's like. The second is reciprocity, or, if you prefer, the idea that respect is a two-way street. Menelaos is going to let Antilochos off easy this time, but he expects him to smarten up in the future.

So he spoke, and stirred in the other a passion of grieving for his own father. He took the old man's hand and pushed him gently away, and the two remembered, as Priam sat huddled at the feet of Achilleus and wept close for manslaughtering Hektor and Achilleus wept now for his own father, now again for Patroklos. The sound of their mourning moved in the house. Then when great Achilleus had taken full satisfaction in sorrow and the passion for it had gone from his mind and body, thereafter he rose from his chair, and took the old man by the hand, and set him on his feet again, in pity for the grey head and the grey beard, and spoke to him and addressed him in winged words: "Ah, unlucky, surely you have had much evil to endure in your spirit."

The Iliad Compassion & forgiveness (24.508-518) The climax of the Iliad is this moment of shared feeling between two enemies. What do you make of the way in which this scene progresses - from each thinking of his own lost loved-ones, to Achilles thinking about the suffering of Priam?

"Never hope by words to frighten me as if I were a baby. I myself understand well enough how to speak in vituperation and how to make insults. I know that you are great and that I am far weaker than you are. Still, all this lies upon the knees of the gods; and it may be that weaker as I am I might still strip the life from you with a cast of the spear, since my weapon too has been sharp before this."

The Iliad Competition; warfare (20.432-437) Hector to Achilleus In these lines, Hektor speaks up for every underdog. Even though the other guy has all the advantages, there's always room for an upset. The only trick is to hang on to a glimmer of hope - even if it's only hope for luck, or, as Hektor puts it, for the help of the gods. In the summary of Book 20, we compared this passage to the following famous lines from the Biblical book of Ecclesiastes, which present the same idea: "I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."

They ran beside these, one escaping, the other after him. It was a great man who fled, but far better he who pursued him rapidly, since here was no festal beast, no ox-hide they strove for, for these are prizes that are given men for their running.

The Iliad Competition; warfare (22.158-161) From the scene when Achilleus is chasing Hektor around the walls of Troy. Later on (in Book 23) we will see extended scenes of athletic competition that echo, in various ways, the earlier scenes of warfare. But what is Homer saying? Is he saying that warfare is really like a game, or is it that games are really a form of warfare? Or is the truth something else? Is there a third thing that both resemble - some underlying human need to be the best?

"lord of the dead below was in terror and sprang from his throne and screamed aloud, for fear that above him he who circles the land might break the earth open and the houses of the dead lie open to men and immortals, ghastly and mouldering, so the very gods shudder before them; such was the crash that sounded as the gods came driving together in wrath."

The Iliad Death & religion (20.61-67) One thing's for sure about the Homeric worldview: it doesn't paint a rosy picture of the afterlife. (You'll get an even better sense of this if you read the Odyssey, Book 11.) So much of our lives is spent wondering about what happens after death. Do you think you - or the heroes of the Iliad - would do things differently if you were able to get a sudden glimpse into the underworld? (Here's a hint, to make you even more curious to read that book of the Odyssey: in it, the ghost of Achilleus gives Odysseus a partial answer to this question.)

"Remember your own father, as old as I am, past the threshold of deadly old age! No doubt the countrymen round about him plague him now, with no one there to defend him, beat away disaster. No one—but at least he hears you're still alive and his old heart rejoices, hopes rising, day by day, to see his beloved son come sailing home from Troy."

The Iliad Easy to be confused w/ the Odyssey? (Book 24) With these words, spoken in the middle of Book 24, Priam implores Achilles to return Hector's corpse for proper burial. He makes himself sympathetic in Achilles' eyes by drawing a parallel between himself and Achilles' father, Peleus. Priam imagines Peleus surrounded by enemies with no one to protect him—a predicament that immediately mirrors his own, as a supplicant standing in the middle of the enemy camp. Moreover, the two fathers' situations resemble each other on a broader scale as well. Hector was the bulwark for Priam's Troy just as Achilles was the bulwark for his father's kingdom back in Phthia, and with the two sons gone, Priam's enemies—the Achaeans—will now close in on him just as those of Peleus will. Priam claims that the parallel fails in only one respect: Peleus can at least hope that his son will come home one day. But it is this one alleged hole in Priam's comparison that truly summons Achilles' pity and breaks down his resistance, for, unknown to Priam, Peleus is also destined never to see his son again. Achilles knows, as Priam does not, that he is fated to die at Troy and never return home to Phthia. He realizes that one day Peleus will learn that his son has died at the hands of enemies and that he will never see his body again, just as might happen to Priam if Achilles doesn't return Hector's corpse to him. Priam's comparison turns out to be more true than he knows.

"Fate is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he fights hard. We are all held in a single honour, the brave with the weaklings. A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who has done much."

The Iliad Fate & death (9.318-320) Spoken by Achilleus. Such attitude common amongst heroes.

Thetis answered him then letting the tears fall: "Ah me, my child, your birth was bitterness. Why did I raise you? If only you could sit by your ships untroubled, not weeping, since indeed your lifetime is to be short, of no length. Now it has befallen that your life must be brief and bitter beyond all men's. To a bad destiny I bore you in my chambers."

The Iliad Fate/destiny (1.413-418) Thetis seems to think that Achilleus's destiny is so bad that she wishes she never even raised him. Her feeling here will be echoed by Achilleus in Book 18, lines 86-87, when he wishes he had never been born. That said, do you agree with this? Do you think it is better to live with a bad destiny or never be born at all?

and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians, hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished

The Iliad Fate/religion (1.1-5) These are the very first lines of the Iliad, and they function sort of like a modern movie preview. The art of the movie preview is to give a flavor of what's to come, but not give everything away. Do you think that Homer hits the nail on the head? Does it make the story more or less interesting to know that everything in it happens according to the "the will of Zeus"?

"afterwards when the sun sets make ready a great dinner, when we have paid off our defilement. But before this, for me at least, neither drink nor food shall go down my very throat, since my companion has perished and lies inside my shelter torn about with the cutting bronze, and turned against the forecourt while my companions mourn about him."

The Iliad Friendship; death; mourning (19.208-213) Achilleus refuses food due to Patroklos' death

"far most pleasing to my heart in its sorrows, I left you here alive when I went away from the shelter, but now I come back, lord of the people, to find you have fallen. So evil in my life takes over from evil forever. The husband on whom my father and honored mother bestowed me I saw before my city lying torn with the sharp bronze, and my three brothers, whom a single mother bore with me and who were close to me, all went on one day to destruction."

The Iliad Friendship; death; mourning (19.287-300) Briseis' mourning speech for Patroklos. Helen makes a similar one about Hektor in book 24.

"You wine sack, with a dog's eyes, with a deer's heart. Never once have you taken courage in your heart to arm with your people for battle ... I hate his gifts. I hold him light as the strip of a splinter. Not if he gave me ten times as much, and twenty times over as he possesses now, not if more should come to him from elsewhere, not if he gave me gifts as many as the sand or the dust is, not even so would he have his way with my spirit until he had made good to me all this heartrending insolence."

The Iliad Hate (1.225-232; 9:375-380) Achilles talking about Agamemnon

"my child, look upon these and obey, and take pity on me, if ever I gave you the breast to quiet your sorrow. Remember all these things, dear child, and from inside the wall beat off this grim man. Do not go out as champion against him."

The Iliad Love (22.77-85) Hektor's mother asking Hektor to not join the battle. Parental love.

"Aged sir, if only, as the spirit is in your bosom, so might your knees be also and the strength stay steady within you; but age weakens you which comes to all; if only some other of the fighters had your age and you were one of the young men!"

The Iliad Mortality/death (4.313-316) These words, spoken by Agamemnon to Nestor, bring home the universal fact of death. Even though, if you're lucky, you can escape death in battle, old age spares no one.

"And now my prize you threaten in person to strip from me, for whom I labored much, ...... Now I am returning to Phthia, since it is much better to go home again with my curved ships, and I am minded no longer to stay here dishonored and pile up your wealth and your luxury. "

The Iliad Pride (1.161-164, 169-171) Achilles' pride in response to Agamemnon's. His reasoning - If he's doing all the work, how come Agamemnon gets to take all the credit? Conflict between talent/skill and power

"Be men now, dear friends, and take up the heart of courage, and have consideration for each other in the strong encounters, since more come through alive when men consider each other, and there is no glory when they give way, nor warcraft either. "

The Iliad Pride (5.529-532) Even though the Iliad shows us - time and again, and in great detail - the negative side of pride, it also shows us some of the positives. One advantage of pride is that it can make people perform good actions out of fear of losing respect. In this case, Agamemnon thinks that if his men keep pride in mind, they will get through the battle more safely. Can you think of any other instances - in the Iliad, elsewhere in literature, or in real life - where pride has this positive effect?

"He is a proud man without this, and now you have driven him far deeper into his pride. Rather we shall pay him no more attention, whether he comes in with us or stays away. He will fight again, whenever the time comes that the heart in his body urges him to, and the god drives him. "

The Iliad Pride (9.697-703) Diomedes's speaking about Achilleus, suggesting the only solution is to ignore him? Do you have the same impression we do - that Diomedes understands Achilleus in a way that the other chieftains don't? Diomedes is constantly being compared with his father, Tydeus. Do you think this might give him a special insight into the nature of pride?

"go back again to the city, and there tell your mother and mine to assemble all the ladies of honour at the temple of grey-eyed Athene high on the citadel; there opening with a key the door to the sacred chamber let her take a robe, which seems to her the largest and loveliest in the great house, and that which is far her dearest possession, and lay it along the knees of Athene the lovely haired. Let her promise to dedicate within the shrine twelve heifers, yearlings, never broken, if only she will have pity"

The Iliad Religion (6.86-95) Helenos thinks that if the women of Troy make a good enough offering to Athene, she will help them. Unfortunately, things don't turn out that way.

"beat down your great anger. It is not yours to have a pitiless heart. The very immortals can be moved; their virtue and honour and strength are greater than ours are, and yet with sacrifices and offerings for endearment, with libations and with savour men turn back even the immortals in supplication, when any man does wrong and transgresses. "

The Iliad Religion (9.496-501) Phoinix is saying Achilleus should stop being such a jerk because even the gods stop being jerks when people offer them stuff. Now we all know that Achilleus just got offered a ton of stuff, but he's still not being nice. Does he think he's better than the gods or something? That doesn't sound very pious.

"there man's courage is best decided, where the man who is a coward and the brave man show themselves clearly: the skin of the coward changes colour one way and another, and the heart inside him has no control to make him sit steady, but he shifts his weight from one foot to another, then settles firmly on both feet, and the heart inside his chest pounds violent as he thinks of the death spirits, and his teeth chatter together: but the brave man's skin will not change colour, nor is he too much frightened, once he has taken his place in the hidden position, but his prayer is to close as soon as may be in bitter division"

The Iliad Warfare (13.276-287) Idomeneus says to Meriones that war reveals the true nature of a person's character. (esp courage)

"you are too intractable to listen to reason. Because the god has granted you the actions of warfare therefore you wish in counsel also to be wise beyond others. But you cannot choose to have all gifts given to you together. To one man the god has granted the actions of warfare, to one to be a dancer, to another the lyre and the singing, and in the breast of another Zeus of the wide brows establishes wisdom, a lordly thing, and many take profit beside him and he saves many, but the man's own thought surpasses all others."

The Iliad Warfare (13.726-734) Poulydamas's advice to Hektor is similar to Nestor's advice to his son Antilochos in Book 23, lines 318-325 (quoted in our discussion of the theme of "Competition"). Nestor's advice, of course, doesn't have to do with war, but rather with how to win a chariot race. Both figures point out that brawn isn't everything—you've got to have brains too.

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy. Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds, many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea, fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home. But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove— the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all, the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun and the Sungod blotted out the day of their return. Launch out on his story, Muse, daughter of Zeus, start from where you will—sing for our time too.

The Odyssey (Book 1) With these words the Odyssey begins. The poet asks for inspiration from the Muse and imagines her singing through him. An ancient epic poem states at the outset, in capsule form, the subject of the work to follow, and this epic is no exception. The Odyssey announces its subject matter in a different fashion from the Iliad. Whereas Homer's first epic treats Achilles' rage, this one focuses on a "man of twists and turns." It chronicles not battles, the stuff of Achilles' brief life, but a long journey through "[m]any cities" and "many pains," the kind of test worthy of a resourceful hero like Odysseus. The opening lines foreshadow how the epic will end—with all of Odysseus's men dead except Odysseus himself—and provide a reason for these deaths: the recklessness and blindness of his crew, who do not realize that by slaughtering the Sun's cattle they seal their own dooms. The opening leaves unmentioned many other temptations the Achaeans will face and says nothing of the situation in Ithaca, which consumes nearly half the epic. It treats the subject matter of the epic in an abbreviated form but captures the themes those subjects will explore. As Knox notes in the introduction to the Fagles translation, in the Odyssey, in contrast to the Iliad, the Muse is asked to choose where to begin. Giving the Muse this freedom prepares us for the more complex narrative structure of the Odyssey, which relies on flashbacks as it moves through the many settings of the hero's ten-year journey.

"But you, Achilles, there's not a man in the world more blest than you— there never has been, never will be one. Time was, when you were alive, we Argives honored you as a god, and now down here, I see, you lord it over the dead in all your power. So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles." I reassured the ghost, but he broke out, protesting, "No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus! By god, I'd rather slave on earth for another man— some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive— than rule down here over all the breathless dead."

The Odyssey (Book 11) This exchange comes as part of the conversation between Achilles and Odysseus when the latter journeys to the underworld in Book 11 (11.547-558). (The entire event is told as a flashback to the Phaeacians by Odysseus.) The heroes muse on the differences between the two worlds they now inhabit, and each finds the grass greener on the other side. Odysseus envies Achilles' strength and the glory that it won him; Achilles envies Odysseus for being alive. The differences reflect the change in outlook between the Iliad and the Odyssey. The first epic celebrates the glory (kleos) that comes from winning battles, and the mighty Achilles is naturally the focus. In the Odyssey, whose focus is the wily Odysseus, that earlier outlook is implicitly criticized. Achilles did win great glory, but it came at the cost of an early death, and he would do anything now to return to earth and live a life without glory. His indignant reply, "No winning words about death to me," suggests that he does not believe Odysseus is speaking sincerely, but Odysseus means what he says and thus needs a warning like this so badly. Like other Greek heroes, Odysseus has a glory-loving streak. He too would like to be "honored . . . as a god," but he must not lose his wits in his pursuit of glory.

"Of all that breathes and crawls across the earth, our mother earth breeds nothing feebler than a man. So long as the gods grant him power, spring in his knees, he thinks he will never suffer affliction down the years. But then, when the happy gods bring on the long hard times, bear them he must, against his will, and steel his heart. Our lives, our mood and mind as we pass across the earth, turn as the days turn . . ."

The Odyssey (Book 18) Odysseus utters these words to the suitor Amphinomus shortly after defeating the "Beggar-King" Irus in Book 18 (18.150-157). Odysseus is himself in disguise as beggar, and his words here help maintain that cover. According to the story he has told, he once was a great warrior, plundering faraway lands, until one day he was captured. On one level, his words here reinforce those lies. The fatalism and helplessness he expresses—that a man only prospers while "the gods grant him power"—were frequently expressed sentiments of the Ancient Greek outlook, but they seem especially natural coming from a onetime king who has descended to the status of a beggar. Who better to comment on life's reversals than someone who has experienced them firsthand? The words have additional meaning, however, for both Amphinomus and Odysseus. For Amphinomus, they foreshadow death. He is plundering the land of others, living a careless life, much as the beggar once did, but he too is a feeble man, and he is destined for a fall. The words are a prophecy to Amphinomus, and a warning; he does not miss their meaning, as he walks away "fraught with grave forebodings" (18.176). For Odysseus, on the other hand, the words do not foretell the future but recount the past and, perhaps, explain the lesson it has taught him. At the hour of his greatest triumph, the beginning of his nostos ("homeward journey") from the city he had helped sack, his life "turn[ed]" and the gods began his suffering. He endured only by "steel[ing] his heart," and he knows now that at such moments that is all that can be done.

"still eager to leave at once and hurry back to your own home, your beloved native land? Good luck to you, even so. Farewell! But if you only knew, down deep, what pains are fated to fill your cup before you reach that shore, you'd stay right here, preside in our house with me and be immortal. Much as you long to see your wife, the one you pine for all your days ..."

The Odyssey (Book 5) Calypso makes this final plea to Odysseus in Book 5, begging him to stay with her, and her temptation trumps all those Odysseus has seen before (5.223-232). She not only promises to save him from having to face future woes but to give him what no other human character in the Odyssey has: immortality. But Odysseus is not interested. All he wants is his home and wife, even though he admits in ensuing lines that Penelope cannot match Calypso in beauty. Calypso's plea embodies the tension in Odysseus's journey. He wants to see his wife and home again, but he also presumably wants all the tempting things Calypso has to offer. That she asks him one last time whether he wants to leave suggests (even if the question is just rhetorical) that she knows her offer is tempting, but the fact that Odysseus can refuse it and embrace all the "pains" she foretells shows how compelling his homecoming really is.

"Alcinous, majesty, shining among your island people, what a fine thing it is to listen to such a bard as we have here—the man sings like a god. The crown of life, I'd say. There's nothing better than when deep joy holds sway throughout the realm and banqueters up and down the palace sit in ranks enthralled to hear the bard, and before them all, the tables heaped with bread and meats, and drawing wine from a mixing-bowl the steward makes his rounds and keeps the winecups flowing. This to my mind, is the best that life can offer. But now you're set on probing the bitter pains I've borne, so I'm to weep and grieve, it seems, still more."

The Odyssey (Book 9) Feast where Odysseus tells his story?

Of all that breathes and crawls across the earth, our mother earth breeds nothing feebler than a man. So long as the gods grant him power, spring in his knees, he thinks he will never suffer affliction down the years. But then, when the happy gods bring on the long hard times, bear them he must, against his will, and steel his heart. Our lives, our mood and mind as we pass across the earth, turn as the days turn . . .

The Odyssey (Books 17-18)

"So by day she'd weave at her great and growing web— by night, by the light of torches set beside her, she would unravel all she'd done. Three whole years she deceived us blind, seduced us with this scheme."

The Odyssey Cunning (Books 1-2) Odysseus, unlike the great martial heroes of the Iliad, prevails by cunning rather than physical prowess. The same is true of his wife, Penelope, though within a more restricted frame. She tricks the suitors and thus delays her remarriage through the traditionally female activity of weaving. Penelope promises to remarry once she has completed a funeral shroud for her aging father-in-law, Laertes. By day, she publicly works on the garment, but by night she undoes whatever she had accomplished. This shows how both husband and wife strive to maintain their union against all odds through a common trait.

"Come, enough of this now. We're both old hands at the arts of intrigue. Here among mortal men you're far the best at tactics, spinning yarns, and I am famous among the gods for wisdom, cunning wiles, too."

The Odyssey Cunning (Books 12-14) In Book 13, Odysseus finally returns home. The Phaeacians convey him to Ithaca in what is the easiest leg of his journey, since Athena puts him into a deep sleep. He wakes up in a cave so disoriented that he does not recognize his own country. Athena, in disguise, confronts and questions him. True to his character, he disguises his identity and spins a tale about how he came to the island. Athena appreciates his cunning, recognizing her own craftiness in her favorite mortal.

"Ah how shameless—the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone, they say, come all their miseries, yes, but they themselves, with their own reckless ways, compound their pains beyond their proper share."

The Odyssey Divine justice (Books 1-2) In the divine assembly on Mt. Olympus that follows the proem, Zeus utters these complaints against mortals who blame the gods for their suffering. Rather, men suffer more than is necessary through their own transgressions. The statement establishes a model of divine justice in which men reap their just rewards, as the poem will demonstrate in the fates of Odysseus, the suitors, and other characters.

"And I, my mind in turmoil, how I longed to embrace my mother's spirit, dead as she was! Three times I rushed toward her, desperate to hold her, three times she fluttered through my fingers, sifting away like a shadow, dissolving like a dream, and each time the grief cut to the heart, sharper, yes, and I, I cried out to her, words winging into the darkness."

The Odyssey Family (Books 10-11) *Did the same thing happen to Aeneas in the underworld when he tries to hug his father?

"Stranger, there is no quirk or evil in you that I can see. you know Zeus metes out fortune to good and bad men as it pleases him. Hardship he sent to you, and you must bear it. But now that you have taken refuge here you shall not lack for clothing, or any other comfort due to a poor man in distress."

The Odyssey Fate, religion; hospitality (Book 6, lines 201-207)

"And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total— bring the trial on!"

The Odyssey Fate; suffering; homecoming (Books 5-6) We first find Odysseus in a kind of sexual captivity to the goddess Calypso, who rescued him five years earlier and nursed him back to health after being shipwrecked. Zeus sends Hermes to Calypso's island, located in the far west, to order her to send Odysseus home. She begrudgingly agrees, but she has neither a ship nor crew to escort Odysseus on his journey. In this quote, Odysseus expresses his willingness to face enormous dangers and risks to gain his homecoming.

As a father, brimming with love, welcomes home his darling only son in a warm embrace— what pain he's borne for him and him alone!— home now, in the tenth year from far abroad, so the loyal swineherd hugged the beaming prince, he clung for dear life, covering him with kisses, yes, like one escaped from death.

The Odyssey Homecoming (Book 16) Telemachus returns home from Sparta and finds a strange beggar at the hut of the swineherd, Eumaeus. This simile describes the joy of Eumaeus, a faithful slave of the family, at seeing Telemachus safely back from his travels. Since Odysseus must remain disguised for the time being, he cannot express the powerful emotions he feels at seeing his grown son, whom he left as an infant twenty years ago. The simile allows the narrator to hint at these emotions indirectly.

"But about your destiny, it's not for you to die and meet your fate in the stallion-land of Argos, no, the deathless ones will sweep you off to the world's end, the Elysian Fields, where gold-haired Rhadamanthys waits where life glides on in immortal ease for mortal men."

The Odyssey Homecoming In his travels, Telemachus meets Menelaus and Helen in Sparta. Menelaus tells him what he learned of Odysseus from the prophetic ocean god, Proteus, in Egypt. The reader also learns that Menelaus will not die but will live on eternally with his wife, Helen, in Elysion. In Book 4, however, we see that Menelaus and Helen are not happily married but live uncomfortably in the wake of her infidelity against him. Immortality thus seems more like a punishment than a reward. Odysseus, we will see, rejects eternal life with Calypso to return to his beloved—but mortal—wife, Penelope.

Then she mixed them a potion—cheese, barley and pale honey mulled in Pramnian wine— but into the brew she stirred her wicked drugs to wipe from their memories any thought of home.

The Odyssey Homecoming Several times Odysseus and his men face the temptation to give up their efforts to return home to their families and country. For instance, in the land of the lotus eaters, some of his men taste the lotus plant, which contains a powerful drug that destroys one's motivations and sense of responsibility. Odysseus has to physically convey his men back onto their ship to continue the voyage. Here Odysseus describes how the sorceress Circe drugs the food she served his companions, which not only destroyed their will but turned them into swine. This episode suggests that the desire for homecoming is part of being human and that to live without home and family makes one less than human.

"It is still night, and no moon. Can we drive now? We can not, itch as we may for the road home. Dawn is near; allow the captain of the spearmen, time to pack our car with gifts and time to speak a gracious word, sending us off. A guest remembers all of his days that host who makes provisions for him kindly."

The Odyssey Hospitality (Book 15, lines 68-75)

"The gods of Olympus can't be all against this man who's come to mingle among our noble people . . . Give the stranger food and drink, my girls."

The Odyssey Hospitality; divine justice (Books 5-6) Hospitality is an important theme in the Odyssey and an important ethical duty in archaic Greek culture. In Book 5, Odysseus build a raft and sets sail, but Poseidon shatters it and the hero washes ashore on the island of Scheria. The princess, Nausicaa, discovers him naked and in a sorry state and offers him a kind reception and the comforts of civilization. Odysseus's reception by Nausicaa and the Phaeacians who inhabit the island contrasts with the rough treatment he receives from the suitors when he arrives at his manor disguised as a beggar.

"Trust me, the blessed gods have no love for crime. They honor justice, honor the decent acts of men. Even cutthroat bandits who raid foreign parts — and Zeus grants them a healthy share of plunder, ships filled to the brim, and back they head for home — even their dark hearts are stalked by the dread of vengeance."

The Odyssey Justice; religion (Books 12-14)

"Here I am at your mercy, princess— are you a goddess or a mortal? If one of the gods who rule the skies up there, you're Artemis to the life, the daughter of mighty Zeus—I see her now—just look at your build, your bearing, your lithe flowing grace . . . But if you're one of the mortals living here on earth, three times blest are your father, your queenly mother, three times over your brothers too. How often their hearts must warm with joy to see you striding into the dances— such a bloom of beauty. True, but he is the one more blest than all other men alive, that man who sways you with gifts and leads you home, his bride!"

The Odyssey Love? (Books 7-8)

"There was a branching olive-tree inside our court, grown to its full prime, the bole like a column, thickset. Around it I built my bedroom, finished off the walls with good tight stonework, roofed it over soundly and added doors, hung well and snugly wedged. Then I lopped the leafy crown of the olive, clean-cutting the stump bare from roots up, planing it round with a bronze smoothing-adze— I had the skill—I shaped it plumb to the line to make my bedpost, bored the holes it needed with an auger. Working from there I built my bed, start to finish, I gave it ivory inlays, gold and silver fittings, wove the straps across it, oxhide gleaming red."

The Odyssey Recognition Even after Odysseus sheds his disguise and slays the suitors, Penelope still hesitates in recognizing Odysseus as her long-lost husband. To test him one final time, she orders the maids to bring the bed out of their chamber into the hall. She knows this is impossible, however, since the bedframe was made of a living olive tree still rooted in the ground and hence could not be moved. Thus in the climactic reunion scene, Homer reveals Odysseus identity as literally rooted in his home and family, while also displaying the high degree of cunning possessed by Penelope.

"I noticed his glossy tunic too, clinging to his skin like the thin glistening skin of a dried onion, silky, soft, the glint of the sun itself."

The Odyssey Recognition; cunning (Book 19) Odysseus, still disguised as a beggar, convenes with Penelope and tells her a false tale to assure her that her husband is alive and will soon return. Penelope, suspecting that the stranger is telling her a story simply to win her favor, demands proof that he actually saw Odysseus. Odysseus complies by describing the fine tunic Odysseus wore, a tunic made by Penelope herself. Thus at one stroke he validates his story and also praises the womanly excellence of Penelope by commending her handiwork.

The Zeus's daughter Helen thought of something else. Into the mixing-bowl from which they drank their wine she slipped a drug, heart's-ease, dissolving anger, magic to make us all forget our pains . . . No one who drank it deeply, mulled in wine, could let a tear roll down his cheeks that day, not even if his mother should die, his father die, not even if right before his eyes some enemy brought down a brother or darling son with a sharp bronze blade.

The Odyssey Religion; fate (Books 3-4)

"I long for home, long for the sight of home. If any god has marked me out again for shipwreck, my tough heart can undergo it. What hardship have I not long since endured at sea, in battle! Let the trial come."

The Odyssey (Book 5, 229-33)

Then the imitator, I said, is a long way off the truth, and can do all things because he lightly touches on a small part of them, and that part an image.

The Republic Book 10 In The Republic's final book, Socrates returns to the question that opened the text: the value of the arts. He argues that art is a type of imitation and therefore less valuable than both the Forms and human reality. Having outlined his theory of the Forms, Socrates can now offer a more complete condemnation of art. Whereas before he simply noted that certain works of fiction could have a negative pedagogical effect on people, here he takes issue with the inherent nature of poetry. He argues that if our physical reality is an imitation of the world of Forms, then art is an imitation of our reality. It is therefore two steps removed from the Forms, so those who produce art are proceeding in the opposite direction of philosophy—further away from truth and closer to an "image," to non-reality. This argument turns on the way that Socrates defines "imitation." He believes that whereas a form comprises a complete totality, an imitation only "touches on a small part" of that totality. For instance, the form of a bed includes the existences and qualities of all potential beds, whereas a specific example of a bed is only one small part of that totality. By extension, a painting of the bed only gives one physical angle and one artist's perspective of the bed, so it is an even smaller subset of the totality held by the Form of the bed. This passage not only offers a full condemnation of art, then, but also verifies the central role that completeness plays in Socrates' philosophy.

Then the first thing will be to establish a censorship of the writers of fiction, and let the censors receive any tale of fiction which is good, and reject the bad; and we will desire mothers and nurses to tell their children the authorized ones only.

The Republic Book 2 In order to clarify his definition of justice, Socrates describes the conditions of the ideal city. One aspect of such a city, the so-called "kallipolis," is a harsh restriction of certain forms of art. This section of The Republic is surprising to many contemporary readers because it not only permits censorship, but actually argues that the practice is necessary in a just city. According to Socrates, fictional stories determine the way that members of the kallipolis will act, for these tales dictate their moral sensibilities and give them behavioral models. He therefore reasons that a just populace must be nourished with fictions that themselves cultivate a sense of justice. That Socrates fixates on the interactions between mothers and children is worth noting here. He sees art as serving a pedagogical role not only for young kids, but also, presumably, for older members of society. In this way, Socrates is using the children as an analogy for the paternalistic way he conceives of all Greek citizens. Sanctioning censorship is thus predicated on an image of a relatively infantile population—one whose behavior can and should be strictly controlled through certain fictions.

And if so, we must infer that all things are produced more plentifully and easily and of a better quality when one man does one thing which is natural to him, and does it at the right time, and leaves other things.

The Republic Book 2 Socrates continues to spell out the conditions for his ideal city. He explains that each citizen should be tasked with a specific duty based on his or her inherent aptitude. This passage corroborates the way that Socrates envisions a highly authoritarian state. Instead of allowing people to pursue their interests or passions, he focuses on what will maximize utility: what will allow "better quality" in society produced at faster rates and "more easily." His model does not allow for the presence of human free will, but rather slots each citizen into a specific, almost mechanical, positions to optimize the larger entity. His model also posits the existence of inherent aptitude for each person. To assume there is a single thing "which is natural to him" is to presume that each person possesses this natural affiliation for a certain form of work. Indeed, such assumptions are typical of Socrates' philosophy, which tends to rely on essential virtues and essential qualities in people. Here, the model is that each person has such an essence that when manifested perfectly will result in the optimal functioning of the self and the city. Thus Socrates defines his model of justice as combination of inherent skill and a rigid social system that would maximize that skill.

God is not the author of all things, but of good only.

The Republic Book 2 Socrates furthers his argument that fiction in the ideal city should be censored. He adds that only good artworks could be attributed to God. This line makes a poignant and contentious theological comment. In denying the fact that a God would be capable of producing negative things, he justifies the idea that certain things—people, objects, fictions, etc.—could be excluded from the ideal city. If Gods were indeed responsible for "all things," then presumably "all things" would have to be included in the city out of deference to the divine. But if the divine is responsible for "good only," then bad things are ungodly and can be rejected. This statement is particularly evocative since the Greek Gods were often considered to possess negative characteristics—to themselves embody human follies. Socrates rejects such a model to offer a more idealist image of both Gods and humans. We also see, here, the importance of religion to Greek philosophy. It is common, today, to consider these two fields to be separate, or even sharply opposed, but during Socrates' time they were fully integrated. Philosophical arguments were expected to interweave with the Greek Pantheon—and to apply logical formulations to a pre- existing religious structure. Thus the way that Socrates' work relies on religious tenets should not be taken as a philosophical weakness — but rather a reflection of Greek society at the time.

Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity - I mean the true simplicity of a rightly and nobly ordered mind and character, not that other simplicity which is only a euphemism for folly.

The Republic Book 3 Having described the general types of stories that are useful to have circulating in the ideal city, Socrates begins to identify specific desirable features. He argues that beneficial stories are simple and unadorned. This passage makes a very specific claim on what type of artworks are desirable for Socrates: He contrasts the ornate, lyrical styles of Homer and other poets with "true simplicity." Whereas the first can distract a reader from the pedagogical value of a text, the second allows a text's ethical meaning to ring through without disruption. Socrates seems to revise his earlier harsh sanctions on all literature to admit that "beauty of style" is indeed desirable in certain cases. Aesthetic merit is thus not inherently negative but only becomes so when it is paired with and thus hides the presence of undesirable content. Indeed, Socrates shows himself to be heavily invested in the specific aesthetics that make a fiction desirable or not, to the extent that he dictates the need for formal simplicity. Though valuing simplicity might seem to select for texts of an unintellectual or reductive nature, Socrates subdivides the types of simplicity into two categories: False simplicity is just another term for "folly" or idiocy, whereas valuable simplicity actually reflects balance and harmony. Notably, Socrates sees the distinction as steming not from the artwork but rather from the "mind and character" of the person who creates it. He thus believes that good stories will be created by inherently good people—and will reflect their natural character.

And we must beg Homer and the other poets not to be angry if we strike out these and similar passages, not because they are unpoetical, or unattractive to the popular ear, but because the greater the poetical charm in them, the less are they meet for the ears of boys and men who are meant to be free, and who should fear slavery more than death.

The Republic Book 3 Socrates continues to delineate which texts that should be read by the warrior class. He notes that even stories of great literary and popular merit will need to be excluded. This passages demonstrates that Socrates is willing to censor even highly celebrated artworks in order to achieve his ideal city. He does so, through a somewhat circuitous and quite clever way: by asking forgiveness from the (deceased) poets themselves. The reference to Homer is particularly provocative, as Homer's epics were the foundation and center of Greek culture. That Socrates believes that even these works must be removed from the ideal city shows just how radically he wished to break with the sensibilities of his contemporaries. He was not proposing small modifications to the cultural norm but rather a complete revolution of its most central principles. Yet this passages goes further than simply claiming that the aesthetic value of these texts should not prevent their censorship. In fact, Socrates argues that this is precisely why they must be expelled from the ideal city: Their "poetical charm" will cause undue attraction and obscure the detrimental effects of the text. Socrates thus casts the very artistic devices that bring meaning to literary works as inherent negative: Not only do they not fulfill the pedagogical role he prefers from these works, but they in fact prevent one from focusing on that educational content.

Can any man be courageous who has the fear of death in him?

The Republic Book 3 Socrates describes the conditions necessary to form the warrior or guardian class of a city. He explains that they must only hear stories that encourage heroic behavior. This line furthers Socrates' earlier claim that the literature a person reads has a direct effect on that person's personality and behavior. He argues that certain stories will cause children to fear death for they will present the afterlife in a negative or frightening way. As a result, those who read these stories will come to fear death more than those who did not — so such stories should be censored from the guardians. Socrates goes further, here, than giving general terms for censorship and instead begins to dictate specific texts that should be read by people of different classes. He thus sees the optimal functioning of society as achieved by a fusion of inherent nature and effective pedagogy: Exposure to certain stories will allow that nature to best manifest. Instead of relying on pure logic, Socrates opts to use the device of a rhetorical question. This might seem to be a moot point, but this technique shows that his philosophical strategy includes the use of oratorical skills. Excessive emphasis on rhetoric was criticized at Socrates' time, and Socrates generally cast his philosophy to be purely rational as compared to the more rhetorical Sophists. Here, however, he borrows some of their exact techniques to argue his point, indicating that rational arguments can not be entirely severed from linguistic devices.

Again, truth should be highly valued; if, as we were saying, a lie is useless to the gods, and useful only as a medicine to men, then the use of such medicines should be restricted to physicians; private individuals have no business with them.

The Republic Book 3 While describing why stories should be excluded from the ideal city, Socrates argues that a key drawback is their inclusion of lies. He condemns lying except to certain professions who can make use of mendacity for the general populace. Once more, Socrates subdivides the citizens into various groups, allotting greater privileges to certain subsets of the population. He revises his earlier condemnation of lying to admit that it could be potentially "useful" in certain situations: That it can be a "medicine to men" means that it can ease the struggles of human nature and make life more palatable. But since Socrates believes that hardship must be administered to many men, he also believes that "medicine" cannot be given out freely. He uses the analogy of "physicians" here to argue why rulers should be privy to techniques and behaviors that others are not—for they have specialized training based on their inherent qualities. In contrast, he offers the category of "private individuals" who are deemed too inferior to make the proper use of lies. (Despite his general respect for the Greek gods, Socrates notably approves of the use of lies for humans but not for gods—for he deems lies to be "useless" for deities.) Thus Socrates continues to attribute more and more rights to the elect ruling class, here even exempting them from a core tenet of the city: truth.

Wealth is the parent of luxury and indolence, and poverty of meanness and viciousness, and both of discontent.

The Republic Book 4 While specifying the types of behaviors permitted by the guardian and warrior classes, Socrates touches on financial matters. He notes that the rulers are responsible for ensuring citizens stay in a state of economic well-being. This passage once again argues that certain people in the idea city should engage in behaviors limited only to them. Instead of permitting free economic control, as would have been typical of the contemporary Greek polis, Socrates argues that financial matters should be tightly controlled. Indeed, people of certain subgroups, such as the guardians, should not even be permitted to handle currency, such that their economic status will always remain unchanged. Two extremes are possible—both "wealth" and "poverty" are condemned in a quick phrase—and thus optimizing one's existence demands a careful calibration between those two poles. That calibration reaffirms the importance of harmony and balance to Socrates' ideal world. Much like an artwork is supposed to be simple, or a soul should hold its three parts in equal measure—financial status should remain centered. Optimization, in the kallipolis, is not a question of reaching a pinnacle or extreme, but rather of ensuring that the citizens remain in a constant equilibrium.

Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those commoner natures who pursue either to the exclusion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never have rest from their evils—no, nor the human race, as I believe—and then only will this our State have a possibility of life and behold the light of day.

The Republic Book 5 When asked about the feasibility of his ideal city, Socrates claims that it depends on the identities of the rulers. To successfully create this society, there must exist a class of philosopher kings. Two directions are possible to lead to the development of this class: either, Socrates explains, philosophers may take on the roles of rulers, or the current rulers must immerse themselves in the study and life of a philosopher. Both roles are significant in their own ways. A king holds "political greatness" while a philosopher holds "wisdom," but only in their fusion are they truly competent. Pursued alone, each end reflects only the "commoner natures." Thus Socrates' model of political rule returns once more to the question of balance, here between intellect and political control. The proper relationship between these two things, he believes, can be found in the role of the philosopher king, who in his inherently just nature will bring a city into a similarly just existence. Much has been written and debated about the efficacy of Socrates' rulership model, and a few of the criticisms of it are worth pointing out here. For instance, why must a ruler necessarily be intellectual or philosophical? Other qualities like charisma and diplomacy are perhaps more essential—while intellectual questions could be left to a team of specialized advisors. Or consider, for instance, that the just nature of a ruler may not necessarily lead to a just society: Socrates tends to a assume a one-to-one relationship between internal identity and external results, but a ruler must navigate complex social systems and bureaucracies. These endeavors may take skills like cunning and compromise not attributed to the philosopher king. Finally, we should note that Socrates chooses to elevate his own profession over those of all other citizens. Though he argues that this is a just practice that will benefit all, it also smacks of self-aggrandizement and power-seeking. Thus while his model may be appealing, the merits of its idealism should be treated with skepticism.

And he who, having a sense of beautiful things has no sense of absolute beauty, or who, if another lead him to a knowledge of that beauty is unable to follow—of such an one I ask, Is he awake or in a dream only? Reflect: is not the dreamer, sleeping or waking, one who likens dissimilar things, who puts the copy in the place of the real object?

The Republic Book 5 While outlining the concept of the philosopher king, Socrates distinguishes between those who love individual beautiful objects and the abstract idea of beauty. He says that people who equate the two are making a fundamental mistake. The difference between examples and essential forms is one of the most important features of Socrates and Plato's philosophies. In this model, objects in the human world are only imperfect examples or instances of ideal qualities that exist purely in a world of forms. To believe only "in beautiful things," then, would be to only comprehend the examples existing in the human world and to lack "knowledge" of the more important dimension of the forms. As a result, one jumbles "a likeliness" with "the thing itself." Socrates brings up this point to define a hierarchy of humans, in which some can better perceive the forms; thus he makes use of his philosophical model in order to further the social model that sanctions better privileges for the ruling class, made up of those who can perceive the forms. To make this point, Socrates uses the metaphor of a dream, an analogical device that recurs often in his philosophy. The dreaming world, by this account, is the physical human one, whereas the "wakened state" would grant one access to the ideal forms or essences. This has nothing to do with whether one is actually asleep or awake, as both states can leave one stuck in the world of likenesses. But the metaphor allows Socrates to articulate the way that two forms of perception may co-mingle, one of which is less accurate than the other.

But that the true pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else be longs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the command of a ship, and that he must and will be the steerer, whether other people like or not—the possibility of this union of authority with the steerer's art has never seriously entered into their thoughts or been made part of their calling. Now in vessels which are in a state of mutiny and by sailors who are mutineers, how will the true pilot be regarded? W ill he not be called by them a prater, a star-gazer, a good-for-nothing?

The Republic Book 6 Adeimantus challenges Socrates on how much philosophers actually benefit society. Socrates responds that this criticism only reflects the flawed viewpoint of that society, rather than any issue with philosophers themselves. His argument makes use of yet another well-composed allegory. Here, a society is a ship and its ruler a captain or pilot, in which case the philosopher king would be a "true pilot." Socrates explains that while an ordinary captain is overly attentive to the voices around him and does not pay sufficient attention to environmental factors, a "true pilot" observes all the forces surrounding the ship as well. He considers his "steerer's art" not just to be the narrow question of naval mobility, but rather a process that demands constant and careful attention to "the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds." This is an analogy for how the philosopher king must be deeply concerned with knowledge in and of itself—carefully understanding the natural and human worlds before proceeding in his undertakings. The crux of this metaphor is that external, normal observers would likely consider this "true pilot" to be mad for investing too much of his time in learning knowledge that seems unrelated to the actual job of piloting. The pilot would seem overly distracted by the natural world and insufficiently attentive to the desires of the ship's inhabitants. Yet Socrates believes this behavior is precisely what is required by a just ruler: the ability to stand apart from the crowd and attune one's thoughts more directly to rational reality. Socrates thus brilliantly turns Adeimantus' criticism on its head—considering the unconventional views of philosophers not only acceptable, but also the very grounds for their merit.

Bodily exercise, when compulsory, does no harm to the body; but knowledge which is acquired under compulsion obtains no hold on the mind.

The Republic Book 7 After outlining the allegory of the cave, Socrates reaffirms the importance of education. He contrasts the benefits of forced physical endeavors with the drawbacks of a similarly strict pedagogy. This comparison responds to the potential criticism that Socrates' model of education is limiting and authoritarian. He argues, instead, that "compulsion" is only beneficial to certain classes and that it will have detrimental effects on those seeking real truth. Beginning with the point that "bodily exercise" benefits someone even when it is forced upon them, Socrates extrapolates that a similar exercise of the mind will not aid the person educated. In particular, that it "obtains no hold on the mind" implies that an overly tyrannical pedagogy will not allow knowledge to be fixed in the learner's mind. Socrates seeks to mediate, then, between two educational models. On one hand, he desires a strict and specified curriculum that only makes use of certain texts and ideas. While at the same time, he believes that "compulsion" will not best cultivate the minds of the philosopher kings. He thus differentiates once more between the types of existences desirable for members of various subsets of the population, further granting freedom of inquiry only to the philosopher kings.

But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.

The Republic Book 7 Education, Socrates explains, is essential to develop the sensibilities of the philosopher king. He explains that Truth must be illuminated through education, just as physical objects are lit by the sun. Despite finding rigor and structure to be necessary in education, Socrates argues that truth will be essentially self- evident when revealed to someone. To substantiate this point, he uses the metaphor of light shining onto physical objects: those objects are entirely obscure at first, but as soon as they are revealed, no question remains of their existence. The phenomenon of light therefore allows Socrates to articulate how something could be both obvious and obscured—and thus corroborates the critical role of education. For while a philosopher king may have a set of naturally just qualities within himself, these characteristics will not be able to manifest without the proper education. Socrates also implies that there is a normative weight to any truth once it is glimpsed. Put another way, when someone comes into contact with what is "beautiful and right," he will not be able to deny its efficacy and must conform his behavior to it. Other models of knowledge would argue that truth is more or less appealing based on one's character or on the way in which one experiences it, but Socrates believes that truth carries an inherent significance that will be felt no matter how it is perceived.

But now that he is under the dominion of Love, he becomes always and in waking reality what he was then very rarely and in a dream only.

The Republic Book 9 While delineating between different forms of flawed governments, Socrates describes the character of the tyrant. He explains how passions such as love occlude the vision and mental acuity of a tyrant. Socrates returns to the metaphor of dreams and sleep in order to draw clear lines between relative states of awareness. He believes that erotic love causes one's perceptions to warp as they normally would while asleep. They become increasingly distant from the world of forms and are only able to invest in or connect with the superficial occurrences of the perceivable world. More broadly, this condemnation of the "dominion of love" speaks to the way that Socrates demands that one resist his appetites and adopt a stoic relationship to the world. Denying the value of pleasure, Socrates contends that the passions prevent one from behaving rationally and justly: they cause one to focus on illusory and temporary desires instead of more significant questions of justice. As a result, they are associated with tyranny, for the tyrant will similarly seek only to further his own pleasure. A just society, therefore, must be ordered by those who are emancipated from personal pleasure and who will therefore be motivated by rational thought rather than narrow desires.

With one tongue, [all poets] chant that moderation and justice are fair, but hard and full of drudgery, while intemperance and injustice are sweet and easy to acquire, and shameful only by opinion and law. Don't you know that first we tell tales to children? And surely they are, as a whole, false...

The Republic Even before Socrates gets going on the poets, Adeimantus voices some concerns about what kinds of morals poetry communicates. Why do poets make justice seem so hard? Now no one wants to do it. So Adeimantus says, anyway. Is that how you relate to poetry and literature? Socrates is also attacking fairy tales and myths that children are told because they are so blatantly false.

No one is willingly just but only when compelled to be so.

The Republic In another bleak assessment of justice, Glaucon again presents himself as the devil's advocate, coming up with a very negative idea to provoke Socrates into a persuasive defense. Playing the devil's advocate is a good way to get someone (or yourself) to consider objections to a point you're making; it can help you cover all the bases and make sure your reasoning is secure.

Too much freedom seems to change into nothing but too much slavery

The Republic It's exactly this relationship that makes Socrates so suspicious of democracy—and that makes him worry that justice and freedom aren't as connected as we think. Why does too much freedom lead to slavery? Can the majority actually be trusted?

For it is likely that if a city of good men came to be, there would be a fight over not ruling, just as there is now over ruling.

The Republic This is a classic statement of Socrates's attitude toward what it means to be a leader. Socrates believes that good leaders must be people who actually avoid leadership and only take it on if it's completely necessary, since those who actually want to be in leadership positions are necessarily non-philosophical (basically, bad) people. How do you think that compares with contemporary ideas about leadership?

And speech and thought, quick as the wind and the mood and mind for law that rules the city— all these he has taught himself and shelter from the arrows of the frost when there's rough lodging under the cold clear sky and the shafts of lashing rain— ready, resourceful man! Never without resources never an impasse as he marches on the future— only Death, from Death alone he will find no rescue but from desperate plagues ha has plotted his escapes.

Antigone A nervous sentry has informed Creon that someone has begun giving Polynices' body proper burial rites, and Creon reacts furiously, threatening to torture the sentry unless he finds the man responsible. Creon and the sentry have exited, and the chorus remains onstage to deliver a chant about humanity. The chorus claims that mankind is the greatest of the world's wonders, with immense skill and "resources." According to the chorus, men can be stopped by no impasse except death--"from Death alone will he find no rescue." These words directly echo Antigone's claim about the transience of life in comparison to the permanence of death. As the chorus emphasizes, humans may possess impressive talents and abilities but these are rendered somewhat meaningless in the face of the inevitability of death. By facing death without fear, Antigone displays a humble awareness and acceptance of the limitations of humanity's power. She knows that she may be killed, yet reasons that this is a worthwhile risk because in defying Creon she is honoring the importance of dignity in death, as well as obeying the will of the gods and natural law. Creon, meanwhile, is blind to the point made by the chorus in this passage that humanity is unable to escape death. Indeed, he is suffering from hubris, an excess of pride and lack of humility. Creon has forgotten that the world of death, the afterlife, and the gods is more powerful than he will ever be as a mortal king.

I have longer to please the dead than please the living here: in the kingdom down below I'll lie forever.

Antigone Antigone and Ismene have discussed the grief they feel as a result of the death of their two brothers, Polynices and Eteocles, who killed each other in battle. Antigone has announced that she plans to give Polynices proper burial rites, despite the fact that her uncle Creon, the king of Thebes, has forbidden it and decreed that any person who attempts to do so will be killed. Ismene is shocked and frightened by her sister's words, and says she hopes the dead will forgive her, but she won't defy Creon. Antigone replies that honoring the dead is more important than the living, as life is only brief and temporary, whereas death lasts forever. Antigone's words highlight the way in which the Ancient Greek belief in the afterlife could cause a conflicting sense of duty to the world of the gods versus the state. While Creon's status as King of Thebes means he has supreme authority in the world of the living, Antigone reminds her sister that this authority is ephemeral in comparison to the eternal power of the gods. Furthermore, Antigone's choice of words suggests she does not fear death; indeed, this lack of fear is arguably what allows her to behave so courageously over the course of the play. Note that Antigone views morality as an act of "pleasing," suggesting that the imperative to act in an ethical manner is less a matter of individual agency and more submission to the laws that the gods have determined.

If a man could wail his own dirge before he dies, he'd never finish.

Antigone Antigone and the chorus have reached the conclusion that her terrible fate is indeed the result of her father's misdeeds, and Antigone has ended her lamentation by saying that at her death she will not allow for any love to be shown or words to be spoken. At this moment, Creon enters, heartlessly declaring that if they could, men about to die would continue lamenting forever. Creon's words are exceedingly harsh, highlighting his absolute lack of sympathy for Antigone. On the other hand, Creon's comment also points to the fact that people tend to indulge in lamentations because it is only at the point of death that they are able to fully understand (and likely regret) their actions. This observation is both perceptive and ironic, considering that at this point Creon still cannot foresee the extent to which he will regret his own actions. This irony suggests that people's judgment of others is usually hypocritical.

Still the same rough winds, the wild passion raging through the girl.

Antigone Antigone has been taken away by the guards to be sealed in her tomb. The chorus delivers a chant about all the people in different myths who were killed by being buried alive in a tomb. All were royalty or the children of gods, but none of them survived their fate. In this passage, the chorus describes how Antigone's "wild passion" was inherited from her father, and that the intensity of this passion is akin to "rough winds." However, this wild and free spirit contrasts with the way in which Antigone is doomed to die: trapped within a tomb from which there is no hope of escape. This contrast again highlights the powerlessness of any mortal human in the face of the forces of fate, while also again connecting Antigone's fate to the previous sins of her father.

I go to wed the lord of the dark waters.

Antigone Antigone has entered, accompanied by guards. She converses with the chorus, who express pity at the sight of her; Antigone, too, laments her own fate, expressing sadness at the fact that she will never marry. Instead, she will "wed the lord of the dark waters," meaning Hades, god of the underworld. This statement reflects Creon's earlier statement that Antigone's fate would cure her of her love of death. While Antigone's passionate insistence on honoring the dead and the gods is admirable, it has robbed her of the chance to live a normal life, including getting married. Yet it is also unsurprising that Antigone feels closer to the afterlife than the world of the living, considering most of her parents and brothers are all dead.

What a splendid king you'd make of a desert island—you and you alone.

Antigone Creon and Haemon have continued to argue, with Creon objecting to the suggestion that he should pardon Antigone because the people are sympathetic to her. When Creon asks rhetorically if he should "rule this land for others" or for himself, Haemon replies that he would make a "splendid king" of "a desert island." With this sardonic comment, Haemon criticizes Creon for his selfish, tyrranical mode of rule. The image of the desert island also raises the point that Creon isolates himself by refusing to acknowledge the will of the people or to pardon Antigone because she is his niece. As a cruel, dictatorial king, Creon essentially positions himself on a metaphorical desert island, cut off from the rest of the City and only interested in pleasing himself.

The mighty words of the proud are paid in full with mighty blows of fate, and at long last those blows will teach us wisdom.

Antigone Creon has been led offstage by his attendants, destroyed by grief and guilt over the suicides of his wife and son. Alone onstage, the chorus speak directly to the audience, explaining that proud people are punished by fate and thereby taught wisdom. This statement makes the moral message of the tragedy clear: Creon was consumed by hubris - a too-great confidence in his own knowledge and power - and because of this was punished in order to restore the natural order. While Creon has suffered one of the worst fates imaginable and considers himself a broken man, the chorus emphasizes that this suffering is not meaningless. Rather, like his brother-in-law Oedipus (Oedipus was married to Creon's sister), Creon will eventually be able to grow wiser as a result of his experience - as will the audience.

Blest, they are truly blest who all their lives have never tasted devastation. For others, once the gods have rocked a house to its foundations the ruin will never cease, cresting on and on from one generation on throughout the race— like a great mounting tide driven on by savage northern gales, surging over the dead black depths roiling up from the bottom dark heaves of sand and the headlands, taking the storm's onslaught full-force, roar, and the low moaning echoes on and on

Antigone Creon has condemned Antigone to death for burying Polynices, also condemning Ismene despite Antigone's insistence that Ismene is not guilty and that her offer of solidarity came too late. Although Ismene has protested on the grounds that Creon's son, Haemon, is in love with Antigone, Creon has not relented. After all the characters exit, the chorus delivers a chant about the fact that tragedy that has befallen the house of Oedipus "will never cease, cresting on and on." The chorus describes the pain and suffering of Oedipus' family in lyrical terms, comparing it to a powerful storm. Note that there is no redemption at the end of this suffering; indeed, the only purpose of it is to demonstrate the irreproachable power of the gods.

Whoever thinks that he alone possesses intelligence, the gift of eloquence, he and no one else, and character too...such men, I tell you, spread them open—you will find them empty.

Antigone Creon has demanded obedience from Haemon, before launching into a lecture about the importance of law, order, and submission to the rule of the state. When Haemon has a chance to speak, he begins in a tentative and deferential way, stressing his loyalty to his father. However, in this passage he notes that it is foolish for any man to think "that he alone possess intelligence." Haemon goes on to tell Creon that the people of Thebes are siding with Antigone, and his warning against hubris can be seen as a rhetorical strategy designed to persuade Creon to take public opinion seriously. In this scene Haemon is shown to be diplomatic, humble, and dutiful. His words in this passage are perceptive, and cohere with the overall moral message of the play. Like the men Haemon describes, Creon is blinded by his confidence in his own knowledge and power. Haemon's comment that the men are "empty" highlights the fact that--despite his superficial glory--Creon remains spiritually hollow because he cares more about power than morality and does not respect the gods.

But if these men are wrong, let them suffer nothing worse than they mete out to me— these masters of injustice!

Antigone Creon has instructed the guards to build Antigone a tomb and place her in it. Antigone mourns her fate, but has stated that she would not have done anything differently. As she is led away, she exclaims that she is being punished for honoring the gods, and asks the gods to punish those responsible for her death. She calls Creon and his men "masters of injustice," though asks that the gods do nothing worse to them than has been done to her. Antigone's plea to the gods highlights her strong sense of fairness and fundamental belief that she has made the right decision. Despite breaking the law, she feels confident that she is on the side of divine justice. This paradox illustrates the importance of natural law versus the law of the state. While particular rulers and regimes can be unjust, the law of the gods is eternal and always correct. Indeed, as Antigone's case proves, the laws of a particular mortal political regime may in fact violate the will of the gods; yet, as the play shows, this violation will not go unpunished.

These arrows for your heart! Since you've raked me I loose them like an archer in my anger, arrows deadly true. You'll never escape their burning, searing force.

Antigone Creon has reacted furiously to Tiresias' advice, accusing Tiresias of being a false prophet who has accepted bribes. In response, Tiresias responds by informing Creon that he will pay for Antigone's death by losing a child of his own. Before he exits, he tells Creon that Creon has angered him, and that as a result he is releasing metaphorical arrows aimed at Creon's heart. Tiresias warns that Creon will "never escape their burning, searing force." This is a climactic moment in which it is clear that Creon has sealed his own terrible, tragic fate. However, the fact that Creon had so many chances to redeem himself proves that this fate has come about as a result of his own free will. Tiresias' words also confirm the long-lasting nature of his curse. Creon will be punished not only with one terrible event, but an eternal legacy from which he will never be able to escape. This emphasizes the theme of curses and suffering living on through many generations, and children paying for their parents' wrongdoing.

Anarchy!— show me a greater crime in all the earth!

Antigone Creon, still lecturing Haemon, has anticipated that Antigone might object to being killed on the grounds of family. But Creon is resolute in his decision to execute her, because, in his mind, to do otherwise would be like inviting anarchy into Thebes. In this quotation, he exclaims that there is no "greater crime" than anarchy. We can interpret Creon's intense hatred of anarchy in two ways. It's possible that he is simply a tyrannical, dictatorial character obsessed with preserving his own power. Antigone threatens this power, and thus no amount of pity will provoke him to spare her. On the other hand, it is possible to read view the presentation of Creon's beliefs in a more sympathetic, nuanced way. Rather than being invested in the power of the state for personal gain, perhaps Creon truly does believe that strict adherence to the laws of the state is the only way to maintain fairness, justice, and harmony. While Creon's treatment of Antigone may be harsh, pardoning her because she is his niece and soon-to-be daughter-in-law could constitute preferential treatment. Of course, while this is a more sympathetic account of Creon's motives, it does not excuse his lack of respect for the dead and the gods.

Take me away, quickly, out of sight. I don't even exist—I'm no one. Nothing.

Antigone Creon, terrified by Tiresias' curse, has decided to free Antigone and bury Polynices. However, this decision has come too late, and not only Antigone but also Haemon have both killed themselves. Creon has entered, carrying Haemon's body and cursing himself; moments later, a messenger informs him that Creon's wife, Eurydice, has also killed herself after hearing of Haemon's death. At this point, Creon is mad with grief and longs to die, and in this passage asks to be taken away, saying that he is "nothing." Despite Creon's foolish mistakes and cruel behavior, his terrible ordeal at the end of the play is likely to elicit pity. Having spent the majority of the play "blind" to the consequences of his actions, Creon is now able to fully comprehend what he has done. Creon's longing for death is ironic, as up until this point he has mocked Antigone for her willingness to die. Indeed, Creon's statement "I don't even exist--I'm no one. Nothing" suggests that living with the knowledge that his pride led to the suicides of his wife, son, and niece is a fate far worse than death. Finally, Creon's fate shows that the gods vindicated Antigone as she requested, forcing Creon to lose his family members just as Antigone experienced the death of her parents and brothers.

I will suffer nothing as great as death without glory.

Antigone Ismene has told Antigone that she is terrified for her, and has promised not to tell anyone about Antigone's plan to bury Polynices. Antigone, however, dismisses Ismene's promise, exclaiming that Ismene should tell everyone. When Ismene expresses doubt that Antigone will be able to go through with her plan, Antigone declares that she is not afraid to carry it out, even if it means dying, because there is nothing worse than "death without glory." Antigone's words here have a double significance. On one level, they refer to Polynices, who will suffer a "death without glory" unless Antigone intervenes and buries him properly. However, Antigone is also referring to herself, emphasizing that she does not fear death because if she is killed for burying Polynices she will die with glory because she is following the will of the Gods even at great person danger.

You went too far, the last limits of daring— smashing against the high throne of Justice! Your life's in ruins, child—I wonder... do you pay for your father's terrible ordeal?

Antigone The chorus have been speaking with Antigone about her tragic fate, implying that she is both noble and that she has defied the natural boundaries of behavior for a mortal woman. In this passage, the chorus tell Antigone that she "went too far," and that her suffering and death could be a kind of retribution for her "father's terrible ordeal." This conversation is important, as it reveals the limitations in the sympathy that the chorus feel for Antigone. Although her intentions to honor her brother and please the gods were good, the chorus emphasize that it is nonetheless inexcusable to defy "the high throne of Justice." The suggestion that she is "paying" for Oedipus' sins is significant on multiple levels. It coheres with the overall idea that the house of Oedipus is cursed, and that his relatives will continue to suffer for many generations. Indeed, this suffering is shown to breed even more suffering--after all, Antigone's fate is the result of an earlier familial tragedy, the fact that her brothers fought for opposite sides in the Trojan-Theban war and ended up killing each other. Although Antigone is not personally responsible for the actions of her father or brothers, her life is "ruined" by the terrible consequences.

Like father like daughter, passionate, wild... she hasn't learned to bend before adversity.

Antigone The sentry has brought Antigone to Creon, explaining that it was she who gave Polynices burial rites. Creon, shocked, has asked Antigone if the sentry's claims are true and how she could have dared to break a law. Antigone replies that she does not fear death, and that it would be far worse to not give her brother a proper funeral than to die. Following this exchange, the chorus remarks that Antigone is strong- willed like her father, Oedipus. In some ways, this comparison is flattering to Antigone; despite his flaws and all that befell him, Oedipus was considered a great man. In behaving like him, Antigone is also exhibiting the masculine virtues of courage and honor that were thought to be rare in women at the time. On the other hand, this comparison to Oedipus has negative connotations, and hints at the sinister events to come. Oedipus' refusal to "bend before adversity" led him to stubbornly ignore Tiresias' prophecy, thereby inadvertently fulfilling it. Antigone betrays more foresight than her father--she is already aware that she might die for breaking Creon's law. Indeed, this highlights another similarity between Antigone and Oedipus: they are both doomed to live lives dominated by suffering and tragedy.

Of things there are: (a) some are said of a subject but are not in any subject. For example, man is said of a subject, the individual man, but is not in any subject. (b) Some are in a subject but are not said of any subject.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

Statements and beliefs, on the other hand, themselves remain completely unchangeable in every way; it is because the actual thing changes that the contrary comes to belong to them. For the statement that somebody is sitting remains the same; it is because of a change in the actual thing that it comes to be true at one time and false at another.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

Substance, it seems, does not admit of a more and a less. I do not mean that one substance is not more a substance than another (we have said that it is), but that any given substance is not called more, or less, that which it is.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

Suppose you believe truly that somebody is sitting; after he has got up you will believe falsely if you hold the same belief about him. However, even if we were to grant this, there is still a difference in the way contraries are received. For in the case of substances it is by themselves changing that they are able to receive contraries.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

The differentiae of genera which are different and not subordinate one to the other are themselves different in kind. For example, animal and knowledge: footed, winged, aquatic, two footed, are differentiae of animal, but none of these is a differentia of knowledge; one sort of knowledge does not differ from another by being two-footed.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

It seems most distinctive of substance that what is numerically one and the same is able to receive contraries. In no other case could one bring forward anything, numerically one, which is able to receive contraries.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories Cont. : For example, a colour which is numerically one and the same will not be black and white, nor will numerically one and the same action be bad and good; and similarly with everything else that is not substance. A substance, however, numerically one and the same, is able to receive contraries. For example, an individual man—one and the same—becomes pale at one time and dark at another, and hot and cold, and bad and good.

A doctor builds a house, not qua doctor, but qua housebuilder, and turns gray, not qua doctor, but qua dark-haired. On the other hand he doctors or fails to doctor qua doctor. But we are using words most appropriately when we say that a doctor does something or undergoes something, or becomes something from being a doctor, if he does, undergoes, or becomes qua doctor. Clearly then also to come to be so-and-so from what is not means 'qua what is not'.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Again, does it follow that what is, if one, is motionless? Why should it not move, the whole of it within itself, as parts of it do which are unities, e.g. this water? Again, why is qualitative change impossible? But, further, what is cannot be one in form, though it may be in what it is made of.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

But we must see how this can be arrived at as a reasoned result. Our first presupposition must be that in nature nothing acts on, or is acted on by, any other thing at random, nor may anything come from anything else, unless we mean that it does so accidentally. For how could white come from musical, unless musical happened to be an attribute of the not-white or of the black? No, white comes from not-white—and not from any not-white, but from black or some intermediate. Similarly, musical comes to be from non-musical, but not from any thing other than musical, but from unmusical or any intermediate state there may be.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

For first principles must not be derived from one another nor from anything else, while everything has to be derived from them. But these conditions are fulfilled by the primary contraries, which are not derived from anything else because they are primary, nor from each other because they are contraries.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Granted, then, that they are a limited number, it is plausible to suppose them more than two. For it is difficult to see how either density should be of such a nature as to act in any way on rarity or rarity on density. The same is true of any other pair of contraries; for Love does not gather Strife together and make things out of it, nor does Strife make anything out of Love, but both act on a third thing different from both. Some indeed assume more than one such thing from which they construct the world of nature.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Now to investigate whether what exists is one and motionless is not a contribution to the science of nature. For just as the geometer has nothing more to say to one who denies the principles of his science—this being a question for a different science or for one common to all—so a man investigating principles cannot argue with one who denies their existence.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Of things that exist, some exist by nature, some from other causes. By nature the animals and their parts exist, and the plants and the simple bodies (earth, fire, air, water)—for we say that these and the like exist by nature.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Since two sorts of thing are called nature, the form and the matter, we must investigate its objects as we would the essence of snubness, that is neither independently of matter nor in terms of matter only. Here too indeed one might raise a difficulty. Since there are two natures, with which is the student of nature concerned? Or should he investigate the combination of the two?

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

The arts, therefore, which govern the matter and have knowledge are two, namely the art which uses the product and the art which directs the production of it. That is why the using art also is in a sense directive; but it differs in that it knows the form, whereas the art which is directive as being concerned with production knows the matterThe arts, therefore, which govern the matter and have knowledge are two, namely the art which uses the product and the art which directs the production of it. That is why the using art also is in a sense directive; but it differs in that it knows the form, whereas the art which is directive as being concerned with production knows the matter.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

The fallacy of Melissus is obvious. For he supposes that the assumption 'what has come into being always has a beginning' justifies the assumption 'what has not come into being has no beginning'. Then this also is absurd, that in every case there should be a beginning of the thing—not of the time and not only in the case of coming to be simpliciter but also in the case of qualitative change—as if change never took place all at once.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

The natural way of doing this is to start from the things which are more knowable and clear to us and proceed towards those which are clearer and more knowable by nature; for the same things are not knowable relatively to us and knowable without qualification. So we must follow this method and advance from what is more obscure by nature, but clearer to us, towards what is more clear and more knowable by nature.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

Thus, from what has been said, whatever comes to be is always complex. There is, on the one hand, something which comes to be, and again something which becomes that—the latter in two senses, either the subject or the opposite. By the opposite I mean the unmusical, by the subject, man; and similarly I call the absence of shape or form or order the opposite, and the bronze or stone or gold the subject.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

When the objects of an inquiry, in any department, have principles, causes, or elements, it is through acquaintance with these that knowledge and understanding is attained. For we do not think that we know a thing until we are acquainted with its primary causes or first principles, and have carried our analysis as far as its elements.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Physics

So I must teach this Pentheus, teach all of Thebes, what kind of god I am. Once I am established here I will move on to other lands and show myself there. But if Thebes tries to drive my Bacchae from the mountains by force of arms, I will marshal my Maenads and bring on war. I have readied myself for battle: put my deity aside and taken human form.

Bacchae Here, Dionysus outlines his general mission, which is to both spread his religion and, more pressingly, exact his revenge on his cousin, the irreverent King Pentheus. Clearly, an important part of his motivations is proving his status as a god and undermining Pentheus' mortal authority. By using this militant language right at the beginning, Dionysus also establishes the sense that the play will heavily feature violence. As a powerful shape-shifting god, Dionysus could easily prove his godliness without violence, but it's clear he plans to use disguise and deception to bring about a particularly cruel form of revenge. Dionysus' desire to use violence for the sake of revenge (and to prove his own power) highlights the notion that Greek gods are powerful but not necessarily morally perfect or admirable.

You look ridiculous, both of you: have you lost your wits? I'm ashamed of you, Grandfather. Shake off that ivy and drop that bloody stick! This is your doing, I can tell: another imported god, another chance to make money on the side from burnt offerings and reading auguries from the guts of birds.

Bacchae Here, Pentheus notices his grandfather, Cadmus (the previous king of Thebes), and Tiresias, the blind prophet, dressed in Dionysian garbs. Pentheus is being patently cynical and ironic by calling them a "miracle," and again is preoccupied with the phallic symbol (the thyrsus). This also sets up the question of irrationality and madness that runs throughout the play. Pentheus sees the two elderly men as mad for indulging in Dionysian rituals, especially given their age. As the play continues, the alternative viewpoint emerges—that Pentheus himself is the mad one, both for trying to deny Dionysus and for wanting to spy on the Bacchae without consequently worshipping the god. It's clear Pentheus doesn't have much respect for the gods generally, given the way he dismisses Tiresias—who has direct experience with the gods in his past—as an opportunist fraud. The image of bird guts also adds to the impending sense that gory events are to follow.

This is maddening. That stranger, that man I had in chains, has escaped! What! How is it that you're free, standing at the gates of my palace?

Bacchae Pentheus runs out of his collapsing palace, incredibly confused by what's happening. The key word in this quote is "maddening"—Dionysus has already told the audience that part of his plan is to undermine Pentheus' rationality. Dionysus is masterfully manipulating Pentheus' mental state so that he can lead to him to the particularly cruel and tragic fate that the god has in store. Dionysus' sudden appearance—disguised as the priest—defies the logical possibilities of the material world, at least in Pentheus' mind. The King has only just imprisoned the priest within the mighty walls of the palace, so it's not possible that he can now be standing outside. Again, this undermines Pentheus' authority—his palace is supposed to be an impenetrable symbol of his power and domination. Dionysus shows just how fragile Pentheus' authority is in the face of the gods.

In the grip of the god and the god's frenzy, it was as if she couldn't see him, couldn't hear. Grabbing his left hand at the wrist, she planted her foot against his flank and wrenched, pulling his arm straight out of his shoulder— not with her own strength but the strength of the god.

Bacchae Soon after Dionysus and Pentheus depart to see the Bacchae, Euripides uses the sudden arrival of a messenger once again, this time forcing the audience to actively imagine Pentheus' violent death rather than perform it on stage. This quote is important for many reasons. Firstly, it demonstrates the extent to which Agave has given herself—or been forced to give her self—to the way of the Bacchae. She is so firmly entrenched in Dionysian ritual that she can't recognize her own son, who should be the clearest reminder of her normal life. She is "like a priestess" because she is leading the group, embodying the importance of sacrifice to Dionysus' religion. King Pentheus suffers further ignominy by being reduced to nothing more than a scared little boy crying for his mother, completely undermining his earlier illusory sense of magisterial authority. Agave's eyes and mouth are clearly reminiscent of deranged animals (particularly dogs infected with rabies) emphasizing the return to a more primal nature. The death is unquestionably gory, and the particular method of killing makes it impossible for Agave, upon realizing her mistake, to give her son a proper burial.

One woman struck her thyrsus on a rock and a spring of water shot out, bubbling. Another drove her fennel wand into the ground and the god released a jet of wine. Those who wanted milk simply tapped the earth with their fingers and a fountain started. Pure honey spurted and streamed from the tips of their wands. If you had been there, sire, you would have gone down on your knees and prayed to the very god you deny.

Bacchae The first messenger, the herdsman, enters just after the destruction of Pentheus' palace. His speech gives the audience the first detailed sense of the wild and peculiar behaviors of the Bacchae up on Mt. Cithaeron. Clearly, Dionysus' followers have temporarily inherited a small portion of his power, accessible through the use of the thyrsus (which is a phallic symbol implying fertility and power). The herdsman's lines serve an important dramatic function because they conjure an atmosphere of peace and calm, making the violent scenes that follow all the more shocking and incomprehensible. There's also an undeniable presence of sexual imagery, with the "spurting" and "streaming" of liquids from the thyrsi. This association is in keeping with one of the central aspects of Dionysian worship: sexual freedom.

Father, you have the right to make the proudest boast, for you have sired the bravest daughters in the world. And of us all, I am the foremost: leaving the shuttle and loom for bigger things - hunting animals with my bare hands. As you can see, I have a trophy for our house, to hang here on the wall.

Bacchae These are Agave's words as she appears on stage for the first time—previously the audience only encountered her through recounted stories from the messengers. This moment represents the height of the play's tragedy, as Agave parades her own son's head, deluded into thinking she has nobly killed a mountain lion. It's at this point that audience has to really question the nature of Dionysus' revenge, and whether it is a just punishment for denying his godliness. Agave displays hubris—an excessive belief in one's own abilities or achievements—just to add further pain to the tragic events that have taken place. This moment also examines the way people view violence—there is a sense in which, by wanting to see violence on stage, the audience has bloodlust in common with Agave.

The gods take many shapes, accomplish many things beyond our expectations. What we look for does not happen; what we least expect is fashioned by the gods. And that is what has happened here today.

Bacchae These are the closing lines of the play, offering a dissatisfying explanation for the events that have transpired. In a way, the fact the explanation is dissatisfying is appropriate. The point the chorus is making here is that mortals can't expect to understand gods—it's arrogant to think that anyone, whether characters in the play or members of the audience, can really rationalize Dionysus' actions. Dionysus is especially relevant to this idea, because he is positioned as the very god responsible for irrationality—no wonder it's hard to make sense of him. The play, then, ends on a note that offers no easy answers, perhaps better reflecting the complexities of life itself—rather than offering simple narrative answers.

While he is sane he will never wear a woman's dress. But he will shortly, as he is nearly mad. After all those threats, I want him walking down these streets in a frock; I want him a laughing-stock. Now I shall dress him for Hades, where he will go by his mother's hand.

Bacchae These lines come just after Dionysus (still disguised as the priest) has offered Pentheus an opportunity to secretly glimpse the shocking behaviors of the Bacchae. With the king surprisingly confessing that he does indeed want to observe them, Dionysus convinces him that the only way to do so safely is to dress as a woman. This reverses Pentheus' earlier suggestion that Dionysus' long hair makes him less of a man, and perhaps explains the existence of an attraction to Dionysus on Pentheus' part—he wants to know what it's like to be in touch with the his more feminine side. Dionysus' plan to destabilize Pentheus' mind is clearly working. Dionysus dresses Pentheus "for Hades," the Greek underworld, where mortals go when they die—overtly foreshadowing the King's impending death. Meanwhile, Dionysus' own summary of his godly nature is interesting—it might imply that he is terrible to those mortals who deserve his wrath, and gentle to those who pay him tribute; on the other hand, he might be more anarchic than that, dishing out the terrible and gentle in a way that no mortal can truly understand.

They say some foreigner has arrived from Lydia: one of those charlatan magicians with blond hair that reeks of scent, the flush of wine in his cheeks and all the tricks of Aphrodite in his eyes. Day and night he's with the women, showing them his mysteries - holding up his secret, for them to adore. Once I catch him there'll be none of that tossing of locks and waving of wands: I'll take that head from off his body!

Bacchae This fleshes out Pentheus' distrust and denial of Dionysus' godliness. He thinks it's all fraudulent magic and tricks rather than genuine displays of godly power. From a psychological standpoint, it's interesting just how adamant Pentheus is in his criticisms of Dionysus—as if he is secretly fascinated by the god's power over women and indulgence in wine. He also seems to be preoccupied with Dionysus' appearance—although Pentheus currently thinks that Dionysus is a Dionysian priest, not the god himself. The mention of hair is significant as it's a symbol of worship and virility. Subconsciously, Pentheus wants to castrate Dionysus—or the priest—by getting rid of his hair and his thyrsus (a phallic symbol). Euripides masterfully sets Pentheus up for an almightily tragic fall by having him unwittingly predict his own fate—decapitation.

I see two suns in the sky; two cities of Thebes, each with seven gates. And you, my guide, you seem to be a bull. Horns grow from your head. Were you a beast all along? For you are a bull now.

Bacchae This quote comes just after Dionysus and Pentheus have prepared Pentheus' female disguise. It represents the height of Pentheus' loss of rationality; Dionysus has been toying with the King by dramatically altering his form. Pentheus' double vision demonstrates that he is losing his grip on reality. Dionysus even confesses to Pentheus that he is the god, rather than the Dionysian priest, but Pentheus is too preoccupied with his new outfit to even notice. Pentheus has clearly let loose a buried part of his psyche, wanting to look like either his mother or his aunt. Euripides underscores the irony of Pentheus' transformation by returning to the imagery of hair—Pentheus' sudden concern with the state of his hair completely undermines his earlier insult to Dionysus' long (but "not entirely unattractive") locks. Here, again, some important action takes place off stage—Euripides suggests that not only has Pentheus lost all sense of his earlier gripes with Dionysian ritual, but has now actively engaged in the very behavior he earlier sought to stamp out from Thebes.

Blessèd are those who know the mysteries of the god. Blessèd are those who consecrate their lives to worship. Blessèd are those who give themselves up to the dance, to the mysteries, to purification on the holy mountain where the dance and the mysteries take place.

Bacchae This quote, which is from the first lines by the chorus, exemplifies one way that mortals can navigate their relationship to the gods—by not trying too hard to understand the gods and instead paying tribute to the mystery. Dionysus is not a god who is meant to be understood; he can't be rationalized away through humans' limited understanding. Instead, mortals can best protect themselves from his wrath by getting it in touch with their irrationality through the medium of Dionysian rituals (such as ecstatic dancing). It's also worth remembering that the chorus is comprised of Dionysus' female followers, the Bacchae—so they're unlikely to say anything critical about him, and, accordingly, shower him with praise throughout the play. The quote also outlines Pentheus' mistake: if he would just let go of his pride and worship Dionysus, he might prevent his tragic fate.

As for the women, it is not for the god to enforce chastity. Even plunged in delirium, a virtuous soul does not turn vile.

Bacchae Tiresias continues to defend Dionysus, offering up the reasoning behind the Bacchae's sexually liberated behavior. Tiresias implies that the Dionysian rites and rituals are not wholly irrational; instead, they offer a way for mortals to embrace their "true nature." Tiresias thinks that it's not Dionysus' place to "enforce chastity," but it seems that Dionysus actually enforces promiscuity—an idea that challenges Tiresias' notion of the "true nature." Tiresias' words also add depth to the events near the end of the play—when Agave kills her own son, Pentheus, is she under Dionysus' duress, or is it just her "true self" behaving in the way that it wants? Euripides leaves this question unresolved, but it seems fair to say that the playwright neither argues completely in favor of either Dionysus' or Pentheus' view of the world, perhaps suggesting that both chaos and order are necessary for a full life.

"As God is my witness, I would rather my body were robed in the same burning blaze as my gold-giver's body than go back home bearing arms. ... I well know the things he has done for us deserve better. Should he alone be left exposed to fall in battle? We must bond together, shield and helmet, mail-shirt and sword."

Beowulf Courage; religion (2650-2660) Wiglaf has thoroughly internalized the code of the medieval warrior. He believes that it is better to die because of a courageous act of loyalty than to survive and make it home without attempting the task you set out to do. He also places his loyalty to his "gold-giver," or king, above his own life.

So times were pleasant for the people there until finally one, a fiend out of hell, began to work his evil in the world.

Beowulf Good vs Evil (99-101) Grendel isn't just the enemy - he's a personification, or maybe that should be monster-fication, of everything that is evil. He's literally a "fiend out of hell," a descendant of Cain, inherently rotten.

"I had a fixed purpose when I put to sea. As I sat in the boat with my band of men, I meant to perform to the uttermost what your people wanted or perish in the attempt, in the fiend's clutches. And I shall fulfill that purpose, prove myself with a proud deed..."

Beowulf Good vs Evil; Identity (632-638) It's all or nothing in this fight to the death: the good warrior Beowulf against the evil demon Grendel. Things can't get much more clear cut than that.

"At seven, I was fostered out by my father, left in the charge of my people's lord. King Hrethel kept me and took care of me, was open-handed, behaved like a kinsman. While I was his ward, he treated me no worse as a wean about the place than one of his own boys. ... The treasures that Hygelac lavished on me I paid for when I fought, as fortune allowed me, with my glittering sword. He gave me land and the security land brings, so he had no call to go looking for some lesser champion."

Beowulf Identity (2428-2433; 2490-2494) It's interesting to notice that we don't hear about Beowulf's childhood until the very end of the epic. For modern readers, the fact that Beowulf was raised as a foster son by King Hrethel probably seems really important; but for medieval audiences, Beowulf's deeds as an adult are more important than his princely youth. Beowulf explains his relationship to King Hygelac as a straightforward exchange: Hygelac gives him land and wealth, and Beowulf gives Hygelac his loyalty and service in battle in return. Of course, they're also foster brothers. Yet, somehow, the almost economic money-and-land-for-fighting relationship is more important to who Beowulf is than the family ties.

"Nor have I seen a mightier man-at-arms on this earth than the one standing here: unless I am mistaken, he is truly noble. This is no mere hanger-on in a hero's armour."

Beowulf Identity (244-251) Beowulf's identity as a hero is obvious to the Danish coast-guard just from looking at him. He's not just an impostor or a "hanger-on"; he's the real thing, and he seems to have "realness" radiating off of him.

"O flower of warriors, beware of that trap. Choose, the better part, eternal rewards. Do not give way to pride. For a brief while your strength is in bloom but it fades quickly; and soon there will follow illness or the sword to lay you low, or a sudden fire or surge of water or jabbing blade or javelin from the air or repellent age. Your piercing eye will dim and darken; and death will arrive, dear warrior, to sweep you away."

Beowulf Mortality/death (1759-1768) This passage is the culmination of a long speech, often referred to as "Hrothgar's sermon," in which Hrothgar warns Beowulf of the seductive dangers of success after Beowulf defeats Grendel's mother. Hrothgar asserts that power causes the soul to grow distracted by fortune's favor and so to lose sight of future perils. The speech is one of many points in the poem where the Beowulf poet overlays Christian morals onto the pagan world that he depicts. The idea under consideration here is the Christian maxim "pride goeth before a fall." Hrothgar specifically warns Beowulf not to "give way to pride," an admonition that is discordant with the culture of boasts and reputation that other parts of the poem celebrate. Hrothgar also emphasizes to his young friend that life is fleeting and that he should orient himself toward "eternal rewards"—a supremely Christian idea—rather than worldly success. Throughout the poem, however, it seems that eternal rewards can be won only through worldly success—the reward of fame for being a valiant warrior. Hrothgar expresses the ephemeral quality of human life in beautiful terms. Calling Beowulf the "flower of warriors," he employs an image that doesn't evoke Beowulf's strength and fortitude but instead emphasizes the fragility of his life and the fact that his youth—his "bloom"—will "fad[e] quickly." This choice of imagery encapsulates the idea, implicit in this passage, that there are two "death[s]" that threaten the warrior. He must be prepared not only for a "jabbing blade or javelin from the air," which will wound him, but also for "repellent age," which will eat away at his youthful audacity and force him to think in terms of honor, nobility, and leadership that aren't dependent on mere physical prowess.

The Geat people built a pyre, stacked and decked it until it stood four-square, hung with helmets, heavy war-shields and shining armour, just as he had ordered. Then his warriors laid him in the middle of it, mourning a lord far-famed and beloved. On a height they kindled the hugest of all funeral fires; fumes of woodsmoke billowed darkly up, the blaze roared and drowned out their weeping, wind died down and flames wrought havoc in the hot bone-house, burning it to the core.

Beowulf Mortality/death (3137-3148) Beowulf's funeral pyre is the final image of the epic, creating an interesting parallel to the opening scene, Shield Sheafson's burial at sea.

"Wise sir, do not grieve. It is always better to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning. For every one of us, living in this world means waiting for our end. Let whoever can win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark."

Beowulf Mortality/death; honor/glory (1384-1389) Beowulf utters this compressed statement of the heroic code after Grendel's mother kills Aeschere, Hrothgar's trusted advisor. Although Hrothgar's grief seems understandable in light of the principle of loyalty that operates in this culture, Beowulf speaks of it as an "indulgence"—an inappropriate and ineffective way of responding to the death of a comrade. Beowulf's reminder to Hrothgar that vengeance is the real warrior's response and the truest sign of love and loyalty reflects a fundamental value of warrior culture, namely an aggressive approach to life. Part of this approach involves the understanding that only reputation will perpetuate a warrior's existence after death. Beowulf, for example, perceives life as a race to glory ("Let whoever can / win glory before death"). This speech encapsulates the poem's tension between doom and death, on the one hand, and the necessity of behaving courageously and honorably, on the other. Beowulf's energetic emphasis on action helps temper the pessimism surrounding the inevitability of death that saturates the poem.

These were hard times, heart-breaking for the prince of the Shieldings; powerful counsellors, the highest in the land, would lend advice, plotting how best the bold defenders might resist and beat off sudden attacks. Sometimes at pagan shrines they vowed offerings to idols, swore oaths that the killer of souls might come to their aid and save the people. That was their way, their heathenish hope; deep in their hearts they remembered hell. The Almighty Judge of good deeds and bad, the Lord God, Head of the Heavens and High King of the World, was unknown to them. Oh, cursed is he who in time of trouble had to thrust his soul into the fire's embrace, forfeiting help; he has nowhere to turn. But blessed is he who after death can approach the Lord and find friendship in the Father's embrace.

Beowulf Religion (170-188) The narrator of the poem admits, with some discomfort and distaste, that the 5th or 6th century Danes engage in pagan religious practices. It's one of the only times when we really notice the disconnect between the Christian Anglo-Saxons who are telling the story and the pagan characters in the story. The narrator admits that he feels sorry for the pagan ancestors of the Anglo-Saxons, who didn't have the opportunity to turn to a Christian God for help. There's some condescension in this admission, of course, but also a genuine sorrow.

Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark, nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him to hear the din of the loud banquet every day in the hall, the harp being struck and the clear song of a skilled poet telling with mastery of man's beginnings, how the Almighty had made the earth a gleaming plain girdled with waters; in His splendour He set the sun and the moon to be earth's lamplight, lanterns for men, and filled the broad lap of the world with branches and leaves; and quickened life in every other thing that moved.

Beowulf Religion (86-98) Grendel's demonic nature is rubbed the wrong way by a bard's recitation of the story of Creation. Notice that this description of the creation of the world is an unusual mishmash of pagan and Christian imagery, reminding us of the complex religious background of the poem - told by Christians, but about pagans.

"I have heard moreover that the monster scorns in his reckless way to use weapons; therefore, to heighten Hygelac's fame and gladden his heart, I hereby renounce sword and the shelter of the broad shield, the heavy war-board: hand-to-hand is how it will be, a life-and-death fight with the fiend."

Beowulf Strength & skill; honor & glory (433-440) Beowulf makes his battle with Grendel more than a simple slay-the-monster task. By announcing that it will be a hand-to-hand combat, he gains extra glory for himself and the Geatish king, Hygelac, turning the contest into a feat of strength as well as a fight against evil.

He has no idea of the arts of war, of shield or sword-play, although he does possess a wild strength. No weapons, therefore, for either this night: unarmed he shall face me if face me he dares. And may the Divine Lord in His wisdom grant the glory of victory to whichever side He sees fit.

Beowulf Strength, violence, religion (lines 677-687)

Then his rage boiled over, he ripped open the mouth of the building, maddening for blood, pacing the length of the patterned floor with his loathsome tread, while a baleful light, flame more than light, flared from his eyes. He saw many men in the mansion, sleeping, a ranked company of kinsmen and warriors quartered together. And his glee was demonic, picturing the mayhem: before morning he would rip life from limb and devour them, feed on their flesh.

Beowulf Violence (723-733) Grendel actually takes pleasure in the details of his murderous assaults on the Danes, suggesting that he values battle for its own sake, rather than for the glory or the gold that he can get as a result of taking part in it. By contrast, heroes like Beowulf fight for honor and for rewards, not for the thrill of killing.

got ready, donned his war-gear, indifferent to death; his mighty, hand-forged, fine-webbed mail would soon meet with the menace underwater. It would keep the bone-cage of his body safe: . . . [His helmet] was of beaten gold, princely headgear hooped and hasped by a weapon-smith who had worked wonders

Beowulf Violence, weaponry, wealth (1442-1452) These lines describe Beowulf's preparation for his battle with Grendel's mother. The treatment of weaponry and armor is of great importance to the Beowulf poet. We see, here and elsewhere, that armor has a double history, much like a warrior does: a history of its making, which corresponds to the family lineage of an individual, and a history of performance, which corresponds to reputation. These lines seem to imply that the success of a weapon in battle is related to the skill with which it was crafted. The poet pays a great deal of attention, in general, to the craftsmanship that goes into physical objects and feats of language. This passage is also characteristic in its exposition of the idea of fate. The poet's narration, though always in the past tense, often looks ahead to what will happen either in the immediate future—in the next few lines of the poem, even—or in the long term. The poet tells us, for example, that Beowulf's armor "would keep the bone-cage of his body safe." Though this tendency violates the reader's expectation that a narrator won't give away what will happen next, the poem is composed with a different set of literary expectations in mind. According to the warrior culture in which the poem is set, part of the meaning of fate is that future events are already contained in the present. To the Beowulf poet, then, it would seem foolish and pointless to try to counteract fate's powerful presence. Rather, he accepts it and includes it in his narrative.

"To the everlasting Lord of All, to the King of Glory, I give thanks that I behold this treasure here in front of me, that I have been allowed to leave my people so well endowed on the day I die."

Beowulf Wealth (2793-2798) As he dies, Beowulf seems to feel conflicted about the treasure that he has won from the dragon. On the one hand, he is glad that he's leaving a great deal of wealth to the Geat people, which should lend power and authority to their nation. On the other hand, he looks at the gold "sadly," suggesting that he doubts whether it was worth sacrificing his life for it.

As for myself, life at Carthage was a real misery and I loathed it: but the happiness I hoped to find at Rome was not real happiness.

Confessions (V.8.3) Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Ever think that a change of scenery will solve all of your problems? Well, that only works if scenery was the issue to begin with. Augustine is misdiagnosing his malaise; it's not Carthage that's making him miserable, but his own inadequate soul. Remember what he says in the previous two quotes about (1) not being able to escape from himself and (2) not being able to find himself? So you could understand this move as either running from himself or looking for himself—or both.

Even when I bore the pain of my search valiantly, in silence, the mute sufferings of my soul were loud voices calling to your mercy. You knew what I endured, but no man knew.

Confessions (VII.7.2) Here Augustine emphasizes the speechlessness of his suffering. It's one thing to moan and lament till the cows come home, but Augustine can't even begin to find the words to talk about his problems with his bros. In fact, it seems like Augustine's suffering often leaves him speechless in the Confessions: it's something he bears silently and keeps to himself. Aside from this big, long book he wrote about his experiences.

Can any man say enough when he speaks of you? Yet woe betide those who are silent about you! For even those who are most gifted with speech cannot find words to describe you.

Confessions Language (I.4.1) Augustine seems to be pulling a nudge nudge-wink wink here and referring to himself when he says "those who are most gifted with speech." Conceited much? But wait a minute. So, it's difficult to both not say enough about God and to say anything about God? That's what we call a Catch-22. It's not just well-nigh impossible to find someone who can speak about God; speech itself seems to fall short of fulfilling its duty.

But I did not understand the first chapters and, on the assumption that the rest of the book would be equally difficult, I laid it aside to be taken up again later, when I should be more used to the style in which God's word is spoken.

Confessions Language (IX.5.1) We've all been here, haven't we? The fact is, not all books are written equal. And that, dear readers, is why we have our handy Tough-o-meter. It's nice to know that even someone as literate and smart as Augustine has trouble with the Scriptures, and it sounds like he's trying to reassure his readership that the Scriptures can be pretty humbling. Even to the most learned mind. It's almost like the Scriptures are written in their own special language, and Augustine's Latinate, philosophical mind is coming up blank. Remember how earlier, he was complaining about how the Scriptures read like a Fun with Dick and Jane comic? Oh, how the tables have turned.

But in your wonderful, secret way, my God, you had already taught me that a statement is not necessarily true because it is wrapped in fine language or false because it is awkwardly expressed.

Confessions Language (V.6.3) It's probably a good thing to remind the viewers (er, readers) at home that more often than not, we care about how something is said, rather than what is said. Seriously, that's like Politics 101. Language—and the not-so-insignificant fact that it can be deceptive—is one of the big reasons why Augustine has such a hard time taking the Bible seriously. But what Augustine will eventually realize, in his perpetual search for the Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth, is that the Truth transcends language.

For your Word is not speech in which each part comes to an end when it has been spoken, giving place to the next, so that finally the whole may be uttered. In your Word all is uttered at one and the same time, yet eternally.

Confessions Language (XI.7.1) Augustine does some pretty complex maneuvers in order to account for God's immutability, including making his "speech" something that does not seem to resemble speech very much at all. His analysis of Genesis in Books XI-XIII is really wrapped up in the specific language of the Bible and the "language" used by God (the creation through a speech act, the idea of the Word, etc.). "Exegesis" is a good buzzword for these sections: it means "critical explanation or interpretation of a text or portion of a text, especially of the Bible."

Bodily desire, like a morass, and adolescent sex welling up within me exuded mists which clouded over and obscured my heart, so that I could not distinguish the clear light of true love from the murk of lust.

Confessions Lust (II.2.1) We've got two contrasting ideas here that help elucidate one another: love and lust. Augustine's word choices ("mists," "clouded," "murk") tell us that lust is an unclear, confusing, chaotic thing, while love is clear, bright, and full of sunshine and rainbows. By separating love and lust, Augustine makes a distinction between the wants of the body and the wants of the soul—and we have no doubts about which wants are more important to Augustine.

I was expected to model myself upon men who were disconcerted by the rebukes they received if they used outlandish words or strange idioms to tell of some quite harmless thing they might have done, but reveled in the applause they earned for the fine flow of well-ordered and nicely balances phrases with which they described their own acts of indecency.

Confessions Pride (I.18.1) You know how in Book II.3.5, Augustine's parents care more about him getting good grades in school and becoming a successful lawyer or something (we've been there, Augustine) than they care about the fate of his soul? Well, it turns out that pride has something to do with that. People are generally less concerned with substance and more concerned with how things appear. But all that glitters is not gold, says Augustine.

The more unscrupulous I was, the greater my reputation was likely to be, for men are so blind that they even take pride in their blindness.

Confessions Pride (III.3.2) Well, that's law school for you. The problem is that people and God have different standards for greatness. God wants people to be meek and humble, and people want to be better than other people. Throughout his life, Augustine feels pressured to do all sorts of things that are at odds with good Christianity because he knows he'll be applauded for it. Whenever we feel that way, we just think of our mothers saying, "If so-and-so jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge too?"

It flattered my pride to think that I incurred no guilt and, when I did wrong, not to confess it so that you might bring healing to a soul that had sinned against you.

Confessions Pride (V.10.2) Augustine is talking about when he's still with the Manichees. They believe that people are not responsible for the evil they do because evil lies in the matter people are made of. We think this is certainly a convenient scapegoat for sinning. But when you know that you're going to have to answer for your sins, you approach sin differently; and that's exactly why Augustine is reluctant to change his sinnin' ways.

But my sin was this, that I looked for pleasure, beauty, and truth not in him but in myself and his other creatures, and the search led me instead to pain, confusion, and error.

Confessions Sin (I.20.1) This is a pretty good summation of sin in general—at least, sin of the non-violent variety—and it comes at the tail-end of the chapter on Augustine's childhood. This is right as he's entering into the world of adolescence, where much more serious sins are waiting for him. Rather than saying "I liked sex" or "I liked praise," Augustine instead tells us that his real problem was that he cared too much about himself instead of God... and that opened a whole can of issues for him. Kind of like Pandora's Box.

Who can recall to me the sins I committed as a baby? For in your sight no man is free from sin, not even a child who has lived only one day on earth.

Confessions Sin (I.7.2) We tend to think of babies as innocent, but according to Augustine, ignorance does not equal impunity. As Augustine points out later in the paragraph, the fact that it definitely would not be acceptable for an adult to throw a tantrum shows that tantrums must be sins for children, too. The bigger point here is that no human on earth can escape sin, which means that everyone, no matter how good, needs to seek out God's mercy.

Let my heart now tell you what prompted me to do wrong for no purpose, and why it was only my own love of mischief that made me do it.

Confessions Sin (II.4.2) You know the trope of the Justified Criminal? You know, a character who does something bad but for a good purpose and you side with him? Augustine is not that character. His shenanigans are purely for kicks and giggles. When he sits down to try to analyze his behavior later in life, he can't even really come to any conclusion about why he did what he did. Except that, without God in their lives, people flounder around and do all sorts of inexplicable bad things.

All these things, and their like can be occasions of sin because, good though they are, they are of the lowest order of good, and if we are too much tempted by them we abandon those higher and better things, your truth, your law, and you yourself, O Lord our God.

Confessions Sin (II.5.1) Not all good things are created equal. Augustine likes to divide things into "high" and "low" orders, in order to show how something that might appear to be fine and dandy, like friendship, shouldn't surmount the more important "high" order good things, like God's law. See, the tricky part of sin is that sometimes it doesn't look like sin.

Since I had no real power to break his law, was it that I enjoyed at least the pretense of doing so, like a prisoner who creates for himself the illusion of liberty by doing something wrong, when he has no fear of punishment, under a feeble hallucination of power? Here was the slave who ran away from his master and chased a shadow instead! What an abomination! What a parody of life! What abysmal death! Could I enjoy doing wrong for no other reason than that it was wrong?

Confessions Sin (II.6.4) As we all know, behaving badly "just because" is a pretty common human tendency. What's interesting about this quote, though, is that Augustine uses prisoner/slave metaphors not once, but twice. Augustine is pointing to the idea of power, of being under the power of someone else, and of trying to exercise our own power against that someone by breaking their rules. But when we exercise power in that way, it's actually really pathetic, because it's only imitation-power. Which is almost as bad as imitation cheez.

I was much attracted by the theatre, because the plays reflected my own unhappy plight and were tinder to my fire.

Confessions Sin (III.2.1) No, Augustine doesn't empathize with Oedipus, with the killing his father and marrying his mother and all. (Well, maybe on some Freudian level he does.) Augustine's ability to relate to the stage has more to do with things like pathos and catharsis. After all, who doesn't enjoy a sad movie? But this is madness, says Augustine, because the pity is fake. And no one should be using fake pity like a drug.

On the one hand we would hunt for worthless popular distinctions, the applause of an audience, prizes for poetry, or quickly fading wreaths won in competition. We loved the idle pastimes of the stage and in self-indulgence we were unrestrained. On the other hand we aspired to be purged of these lowly pleasures.

Confessions Sin (IV.1.1) Being pious is easy when it's, well, easy, but when it involves actually sacrificing the things we enjoy, then it's pretty hard. We might, rather conveniently, choose not to think about how what we do is at odds with what we claim to believe. Hey, if piety were so simple then everyone'd be doing it.

The truth, of course, was that it was all my own self, and my own impiety had divided me against myself. My sin was all the more incurable because I did not think myself a sinner.

Confessions Sin (V.10.2) Well, they say admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. But what does Augustine mean when he says that his impiety had divided him against himself? Are there two Augustines duking it out? No. He means that by not taking the blame for his actions, Augustine is externalizing his willpower. Remember, the Manichees believe that all particles, including the particles we're made of, are either good or evil. So he thinks believing in all that material nonsense is like eating your friend's birthday cake and saying "My stomach made me do it. Sorry."

Yet "Truth and truth alone" was the motto which they repeated to me again and again, although the truth was nowhere to be found in them. All that they said was false, both what they said about you, who truly are the Truth, and what they said about this world and its first principles, which were your creation.

Confessions Truth (III.6.1) Some pronoun clarification: "they" are the Manichees and "you" is God. In fact, this is the very first we hear of the Manichees in the Confessions, considering how important they are in Augustine's development. Augustine sees the Manichees as people who lay claim to a false truth. And that's a pretty dangerous sign, because it means that any shmuck can claim truths. Now, logically, we might say "But why should we believe Augustine's truth? Why is his truth any more real than what the Manichees believe?" Well, dear readers, this little conundrum isn't lost on Augustine either, which is why he is so intent on showing why the logic behind Christian notions of God, good and evil, free will, and the creation are foolproof. Oh, and we'd also like to draw your attention to the Manichees's motto: "Truth and truth alone." Now what do you make of that?

I realized that above my own mind, which was liable to change, there was the never changing, true eternity of truth.

Confessions Truth (VII.17.1) Hm, one pesky problem about "truth" is that it can be an adjective or a noun. Now, you might be thinking, "Lots of words are like that and I don't lose any sleep over them." To which we reply, "But in this case, doesn't this mean that there is a distinction being made between 'true' things and the truth?" To which you reply, "Is that a rhetorical question?" To which we answer "Is it?" All right, all right, we'll stop.

True happiness is to rejoice in the truth, for to rejoice in the truth is to rejoice in you, O God, who are the Truth, you, my God, my true Light, to whom I look for salvation.

Confessions Truth (X.23.1) This quote brings up a lot of the same issues as the other quotes about truth. Here, Augustine is using "truth" as both an adjective and a noun, and possibly in different ways. And he's conflating the ideas of truth, God, and light. But what's interesting about this passage is that Augustine has managed to make his lifelong quest for truth, as in knowledge, the same as his lifelong spiritual quest. Were they always the same thing? Or is this a new development for our man Augustine?

Let the strong and mighty laugh at men like me: let us, the weak and the poor, confess our sins to you.

Confessions Weakness (IV.1.1) Here, it seems like weakness is a good thing. Ever heard the Bible quotes, "blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth" (Matt. 5:5) or "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God" (Matt. 19:24)? Augustine might not be directly alluding to those verses here, but the point is that Christianity has a tradition of advocating humility and eschewing wealth and power, kind of like Christ. This is a very different kind of weakness than the weakness Augustine is talking about when he can't seem to give up earthly delights.

Grief eats away its heart for the loss of things which it took pleasure in desiring, because it wants to be like you, from whom nothing can be taken away.

Confessions Weakness (II.6.2) Easy come, easy go, right? That's the problem of loving earthly things. It's also, Augustine seems to suggest, the root of all human suffering. You can only really safely love God, because unlike everything else, God doesn't change.

For the grief I felt for the loss of my friend had struck so easily in my inmost heart simply because I had poured out my soul upon him, like water upon sand, loving a man who was mortal as though he were never to die.

Confessions Weakness (IV.8.1) When we love someone or something, isn't it always with the conceit that we won't lose them, even when we know we might? It's interesting that Augustine specifically says, "as though he would never die;" he's implying that to love anything is to believe that you'll always have it. Yes, Augustine sees loving his friend as a futile act, like pouring water onto sand. But the other big personal loss that Augustine endures in the Confessions is the loss of his mother. The loss of Augustine's good friend is almost like practice for Monica's death. Does Augustine handle that death any differently?

Everywhere I looked they loomed before my eyes in swarms and clusters, and when I set myself to thinking and tried to escape from them, images of these selfsame things blocked my way, as though they were asking where I meant to go, unclean and undeserving as I was.

Confessions Weakness (VII.7.2) The "they" here refers to "lower things," which is delightfully ambiguous. But we can guess from context that he's referring to pride and other personality vices. Augustine even compares them to insects that swarm. Gross. But he's also putting himself in an awfully passive position here. "I wanted to change, but vices prevented me from doing it. They literally blocked my path." Um, hey Augustine: don't go blaming imaginary bugs for your weaknesses. But seriously, the point he's actually trying to make is that sometimes it feels as though there are things inside of us that prevent us from changing. Yep, we've been there, Augustine.

It remained silent and afraid, for as much as the loss of life itself it feared the stanching of the flow of habit, by which it was wasting away to death.

Confessions Weakness (VIII.7.4) Augustine is talking about his darn irrational soul. Augustine can't understand why, even after he has accepted the belief that his soul will die if he doesn't give up his sinful habits and follow God, he still doesn't want to. Apparently, Augustine's soul is actually more afraid of the immediate consequences of giving up the sin it loves so much than it is of the hypothetical of "wasting away to death." The challenge is to think in the long-term, even if it means that the short-term might suck—though Augustine, the hedonist he is, isn't ready to take the long view yet.

I read them with pleasure, but I did not know the real source of such truth and certain facts as they contained. I had my back to the light and my face was turned towards the things which it illumined, so that my eyes, by which I saw the things which stood in the light, were themselves in darkness.

Confessions Wisdom/knowledge (IV.16.4) Augustine has said before that it's more important that people believe than understand. Well, Augustine is going about it backwards. After all, what's the important thing to aspire to: God's creation, or God Himself? Remember, Augustine likes to tell us that knowledge in and of itself is useless because it only serves worldly ambitions, like being the smartest person in the room. (We're looking at you, kiddo.) The important knowledge is knowledge that relates to God.

These questions I must put to you, for I have no one else to answer them.

Confessions Wisdom/knowledge (I.6.4) When we don't have the answer to some question—like, in this case, what happened when we were in the womb?—how are we supposed to go about finding it? Are some things just unknowable? Having God around as this Magic Eight Ball who knows everything suggests that the answer exists, even if we don't have access to it. Basically, God's existence suggest that, theoretically, everything has an explanation that could be revealed to us. Yet, when Augustine asks God for an answer, what kind of answer does he expect? It's not like God is going to beam down an answer directly to him, à la Star Trek. Instead, the sheer act of asking God shows us the limits of human knowledge. Deep.

Her dress was a miracle of fine cloth and meticulous workmanship, and, as I later learned, she had woven it herself. But it had darkened like a smoke-blackened family statue in the atrium as if through neglect and was dingy and worn. I could see worked into the bottom border the Greek letters Pi (for practice) and slightly higher Theta (for theory) with steps that were marked between them to form a ladder by which one might climb from the lower to the upper. Some ruffians had done violence to her elegant dress, and clearly bits of the fabric had been torn away.

Consolation of Philosophy

I who once wrote songs with joyful zeal Am driven by grief to enter weeping mode. See the Muses, cheeks all torn, dictate, And wet my face with elegiac verse. No terror could discourage them at least From coming with me on my way. They were the glory of my happy youth And still they comfort me in hapless age

Consolation of Philosophy (Boethius, Book 1) The opening lines of the Consolation hoist up the curtain to reveal Boethius's state of mind. He's not merely sad, but wallowing in sadness—literally sitting and writing a poem about how he is too sad to do anything but write sad poems. His melancholy is understandable, given he is imprisoned and potentially facing execution. Still, Philosophy will make it her mission to pull Boethius up out of his self-pity as soon as possible.

True and perfect happiness is that which makes a man self-sufficient, strong, worthy of respect, glorious and joyful.

Consolation of Philosophy (Boethius, Book 3) After much coaching from Philosophy, Boethius comes to the conclusion that happiness, self-sufficiency, and power are synonymous. Importantly, happiness does not just unite or include these qualities: it is all of them at once. This idea of supreme happiness, later equated with God, provides Philosophy with a lot of maneuvering room when she begins discussing divine justice.

It is pointless, therefore, to hope for anything or pray to escape anything. What can a man hope for, or pray to escape, when an inflexible bond binds all that can be wished for?

Consolation of Philosophy (Boethius, Book 5) The beginning of Book 5 is taken up by Boethius's doubts concerning the existence and nature of free will. He is unsatisfied with Philosophy's assertion that free will and divine foreknowledge are compatible. If God already knows what will happen, how can a person be free to choose? Philosophy's response—satisfying to Boethius but perhaps less so to modern readers—is to redefine "knowledge." God, she says, "knows" a way that does not interfere with free will as humans understand it.

So sinks the mind in deep despair And sight grown dim; when storms of life Inflate the weight of earthly care, The mind forgets its inward light And turns in trust to the dark without.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 2)

It is hardly surprising if we are driven by the blasts of storms when our chief aim on this sea of life is to displease wicked men. And though their numbers are great, we can afford to despise them because they have no one to lead them and are carried along only by ignorance which distracts them at random first one way then another.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 3)

It may be part of human weakness to have evil wishes, but it is nothing short of monstrous that God should look on while every criminal is allowed to achieve his purpose against the innocent. If this is so, it was hardly without reason that one of your household asked where evil comes from if there is a god, and where good comes from if there isn't.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 4)

So there can be no fear of exile for any man within its walls and moat. On the other hand, if anyone stops wanting to live there, he automatically stops deserving it. And so it is not the sight of this place which gives me concern but your own appearance, and it is not the walls of your library with their glass and ivory decoration that I am looking for, but the seat of your mind. That is the place where I once stored away - not my books, but - the thing that makes them have any value, the philosophy they contain.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 5)

Now I know the other cause, or rather the major cause of your illness: you have forgotten your true nature. And so I have found out in full the reason for your sickness and the way to approach the task of restoring you to health. It is because you are confused by loss of memory that you wept and claimed you had been banished and robbed of all your possessions. And it is because you don't know the end and purpose of all things that you think the wicked and the criminal have power and happiness.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 1, Chap 6)

You have been receiving a favor as one who has had the use of another's possession, and you have no right to complain as if what you have lost was fully your own. Your have no cause to begin groaning at me: I have done you no violence. Wealth, honors and the like are all under my jurisdiction. When I come, they come with me, and when I go, they leave as well. I can say with confidence that if the things whose loss you are bemoaning were really yours, you could never have lost them.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 2, Chap 2)

Remember, too, that all the most happy men are over-sensitive. They have never experienced adversity and so unless everything obeys their slightest whim they are prostrated by every minor upset, so trifling are the things that can detract from the complete happiness of a man at the summit of fortune.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 2, Chap 4)

Why then do you mortal men seek after happiness outside yourselves, when it lies within you?

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 2, Chap 4)

But ten thousand years, or any multiple of that however great, cannot be compared with unending eternity. For while finite things can be compared with one another, the finite and the infinite can never be compared. So however protracted the life of your fame, when compared with unending eternity it is shown to be not just little, but nothing at all.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 2, Chap 7)

It must be admitted that the supreme God is to the highest degree filled with supreme and perfect goodness. But we have agreed that perfect good is true happiness; so that it follows that true happiness is to be found in the supreme God.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 3, Chap 10)

Since it is through possession of happiness that people become happy, and since happiness is in fact divinity, it is clear that it is through the possession of divinity that they become happy. But by the same logic as men become just through the possession of justice, or wise through the possession of wisdom, so those who possess divinity necessarily become divine. Each happy individual is therefore divine. While only God is so by nature, as many as you like may become so by participation.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 3, Chap 10)

Grant, Father, that our minds Thy august seat may scan, Grant us the sight of true good's source, and grant us light That we may fix on thee our minds' unblinded eye. Disperse the clouds of earthly matter's cloying weight; Shine out in all Thy glory; for Thou art rest and peace To those who worship Thee; to see Thee is our end, Who art our source and maker, lord and path and goal.'

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 3, Chap 9)

If your recent conclusions may remain intact, you can learn from the Creator Himself since it is His realm we are speaking of, that the good are always strong and the wicked always humbled and weak. From Him, too, you can learn that sin never goes unpunished or virtue unrewarded, and that what happens to the good is always happy and that what happens to the bad always misfortune.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 4, Chap 1)

'High kings you see sit loftily on thrones, In purple bright, by sober arms enhedged, With savage threat in passion's breathless rage; Once strip from pride their robes of empty show, And see within the straitening fetters worn: Here lust o'erthrows the heart with poisonous greed, Here like a wave wrath whips and bears off sense, Here captive sorrow sits or hope torments; Here in one heart so many tyrants rule, The king's own will's deposed, the enslaver slaved.'

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 4, Chap 2)

And if you say they abandon goodness and turn to vice knowingly and willingly, this way they not only cease to be powerful, but cease to be at all. Men who give up the common goal of all things that exist, thereby cease to exist themselves. Some may perhaps think it strange that we say the wicked men, who form the majority of men, do not exist; but that is how it is. I am not trying to deny the wickedness of the wicked; what I do deny is that their existence is absolute and complete existence.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 4, Chap 2)

Now, there are two things on which all the performance of human activity depends, will and power. If either of them is lacking, there is no activity that can be performed. In the absence of the will, a man is unwilling to do something and therefore does not undertake it; and in the absence of the power to do it, the will is useless. So that if you see someone who wants to get something which he cannot get, you can be sure that what he has been lacking is the power to get what he wanted

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 4, Chap 2)

If God foresees all things and cannot be mistaken in any way, what Providence has foreseen as a future event must happen. So that if from eternity Providence foreknows not only men's actions but also their thoughts and desires, there will be no freedom of will.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 5, Chap 3) Providence, fate and free will. Conflict?

The cause of this mistake is that people think that the totality of their knowledge depends on the nature and capacity to be known of the objects of knowledge. But this is all wrong. Everything that is known is comprehended not according to its own nature, but according to the ability to know of those who do the knowing.

Consolation of Philosophy (Book 5, Chap 4)

If you desire To look on truth And follow the path With unwavering course Rid yourself Of joy and fear, Put hope to flight And banish grief.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 1) Setting aside strong emotions of all sorts is, Philosophy suggests, a prerequisite for achieving true happiness. At this point in the Consolation, the emotion most distracting to Boethius is grief, mentioned last here. However, it won't do Boethius any good to merely cheer himself up with pleasant thoughts. Rather, Philosophy says, he needs to find a kind of truth more durable than any passing mood.

Should I be frightened by being accused? Or cower in fear as if it were unprecedented? This is hardly the first time wisdom has been threatened with danger by the forces of evil.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 1) The majority of the Consolation will do what it says on the label, but Philosophy's early lines are more like a sharp slap: "Snap out of it!" Philosophy firmly reminds Boethius he is not the only philosopher to have suffered for his principles. Even if individual philosophers are banished, killed, or tortured, the "reckless forces of folly" will never triumph in the end.

If you are trying to stop her wheel from turning, you are of all men the most obtuse. For if it once begins to stop, it will no longer be the wheel of chance.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 2) Classical authors often used the image of a wheel to capture the capriciousness of Fortune. Those at the top of the wheel are prosperous and powerful. Those at the bottom are the unfortunate, shut out from material happiness. As the wheel turns, the two groups repeatedly switch places, so no one remains fortunate—or unfortunate—forever. This image remained popular throughout the Middle Ages and is found as an illustration in medieval manuscripts of the Consolation.

You are wrong if you think Fortune has changed toward you. Change is her normal behavior, her true nature.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 2) Fortune's mutability This statement exemplifies one of Philosophy's main goals in Book 2: to get Boethius to look beyond appearances and consider things on a deeper level. In Book 1 Boethius complained at length about the change in fortune he had undergone. Now, Philosophy asks him to reexamine what he has said. Boethius, she says, has no right to feel betrayed by his change in circumstances, because change is the one thing that can truly be counted on.

Good fortune always seems to bring happiness, but deceives you with her smiles, whereas bad fortune is always truthful because by change she shows her true fickleness. Good fortune deceives, but bad fortune enlightens.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 2) With this proverb, Philosophy suggests Boethius has gotten it all wrong in cursing his bad fortune and mourning his past happiness. Bad fortune, she says, is actually a gift inasmuch as it reveals one's true friends. If Boethius had remained prosperous until the end of his days, he would never have been able to tell who was truly loyal to him. In Philosophy's manner of reckoning, this "enlightenment" is worth more than the material gifts good fortune can bestow.

Wealth which was thought to make a man self-sufficient in fact makes him dependent on outside help. In which case, what is the way in which riches remove want?

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 3) "Expectation versus reality" is Philosophy's favorite device for showing the vanity of earthly happiness. People seek wealth in the hope of being able to provide for all their wants, but their wants actually multiply the richer they become. This twist provides a "template" of sorts for Philosophy's treatment of otherworldly goods. Fame, power, and beauty are all marred by the same insecurity and impermanence as material wealth.

Mortal men travel by different paths, though all are striving to reach one and the same goal, namely, happiness, which is a good which once obtained leaves nothing more to be desired. It is the perfection of all good things and contains in itself all that is good; and if anything were missing from it, it couldn't be perfect, because something would remain outside it, which could still be wished for. It is clear, therefore, that happiness is a state made perfect by the presence of everything that is good, a state, which, as we said, all mortal men are striving to reach though by different paths.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 3) Nobody, Philosophy asserts, is consciously running away from happiness. Instead, all are pursuing it with greater or lesser success. This idea underlies Philosophy's reframing of evil as something pathetic and pitiable, like an illness. Evildoers strive for happiness, as everyone else does, but their own evil deeds hinder them from reaching it.

When a man abandons goodness and ceases to be human, being unable to rise to a divine condition, he sinks to the level of being an animal.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 4) Boethius, like his classical predecessors, viewed humankind as occupying a middle state between the animal and the divine. The pursuit of goodness pushes an individual up this scale, while the rejection of goodness makes one sink. In the poem immediately following these lines, Philosophy likens evildoers to the men transformed into pigs by the sorceress Circe. Their plight is actually worse than those men, she says, because they are animals within and men without.

The simple and unchanging plan of events is Providence, and Fate is the ever-changing web.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 4) One distinctive feature of the Consolation is its grouping of many terms describing cause and effect: Fortune, Fate, Providence, chance, necessity. At the center of Book 4 is a proposed relationship between Fate and Providence, imagined as two aspects of God's plan. Other terms, such as fortune and chance, are then fitted into the framework established by Fate and Providence. The result is a coherent, if not necessarily cogent, accounting of causal forces interacting in the universe.

Sin never goes unpunished or virtue unrewarded, and that what happens to the good is always happy and that what happens to the bad always misfortune.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 4) This is one of the hardest claims to swallow in the Consolation for Boethius, if not for the reader. Philosophy proceeds to spend much of Book 4 marshaling a defense of this extraordinary statement. She reasons good people will find a way to use any fortune, good or ill, as a way to grow in virtue. Evil people, to the extent they are evil, will squander their good fortune and fail to learn from the bad.

Reason belongs only to the human race, just as intelligence belongs only to divinity. The result is that that kind of knowing transcends the others which of its own nature knows not only its own objects, but also the objects of the other kinds of knowing.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 5) Here, as often in the Consolation, Philosophy uses ordinary-sounding words in a narrower technical sense. By reason, Philosophy means roughly the process of "figuring things out"—a process that plays out in time within the human mind. God, who knows things without having to figure them out, has no need for reason. Rather, he possesses intelligence, by which Philosophy means an immediate—literally, direct—understanding of everything his mind beholds.

And since this is so, man's freedom of will remains inviolate and the law does not impose reward and punishment unfairly, because the will is free from all necessity. God has foreknowledge and rests a spectator fromon high of all things; and as the ever present eternity of His vision dispenses reward to the good and punishment to the bad, it adapts itself to the future quality of our actions. Hope is not placed in God in vain and prayers are not made in vain, for if they are the right kind they cannot but be efficacious. Avoid vice, therefore, and cultivate virtue; lift up your mind to the right kind of hope, and put forth humble prayers on high. A great necessity is laid upon you, if you will be honest with yourself, a great necessity to be good, since you live in the sight of a judge who sees all things.

Consolation of Philosophy (Philosophy, Book 5) Overall the Consolation has progressed from issues of moral philosophy to rarefied questions concerning the nature of God. In this, the work mirrors the pattern embroidered on Philosophy's gown, which depicts an ascent from practical to contemplative concerns. At the very end of the Consolation, however, Boethius suddenly shifts gears to remind the reader of the moral import of these seemingly abstract ideas. God's omniscience may be edifying to think about, but it also necessitates a certain kind of behavior for the Christian reader.

Consonance, which regulates the flow of all music, cannot exist without sound. Sound, moreover, cannot exist without a pulsating and percussive force, and neither of these can exist unless preceded by movement. For if everything is immobile, one thing cannot strike or impel another, and all things would be bereft of motion; and thus no sound could be made. For this reason we define sound thusly: a percussive activation of the air that proceeds undissolved to the process of hearing.

Fundamentals of Music

Everything is on a continuum from few to many, and one number can be compared to another. When numbers are compared, some will be equal, and others unequal. And so it is with sounds: some are the same, and others distant one from another. But those pitches that do not reach a concord in their inequality are in every way dissonant. For consonance is the concord of dissimilar pitches brought together into one.

Fundamentals of Music

The first type of music is music of the spheres, which can be seen especially in the heavens or in combination with the elements or changing of the seasons. For how can it be that a celestial machine can move so quickly yet silently on its course? And although its sound does not reach our ears, which happens for many reasons, it is not possible however that such an extremely fast motion of such large bodies makes no sound, especially because the paths of the stars are all joined in a way that nothing more perfect could be conceived.

Fundamentals of Music

The third type of music is that which is said to involve certain instruments. These include those activated by pressure, as in strings, or by wind, as with the aulos, or by water [hydraulic organs], or by striking, as with those that are made of brass in concave shape. And so all of these make diverse sounds.

Fundamentals of Music

There are various kinds of motions, some faster, others slower. If someone perceives a continual motion, he will necessarily regard it as either faster or slower. Moreover, if someone shall move his hand, he will move it faster or slower. And similarly when the motion is slow and less frequent, lower sounds are necessarily produced, created by that slowness and infrequency.

Fundamentals of Music

Where could it be more evident that it is better to possess rational understanding than to be a creator of a work or a practitioner, than in the science of music? It is just as much more noble than the mind is superior to the body because it is only reason that separates the expert from the servant. Reason commands and leads to rectitude because unless the command of reason is followed, the undertaking will fail.

Fundamentals of Music

With regard to music of the body, whoever looks within himself will understand it. For what is it that mixes non-corporal reason with the physicality of the body than a certain harmony, just as high and low pitches by means of temperance make one consonance. For what more than this joins together the parts of the soul: as Aristotle says, it is a conjunction of the rational and the irrational.

Fundamentals of Music

Thus we see in the construction of war monuments a similar process with regard to the bestowing of names. For individuals are recalled or triumphs celebrated by inscribing the names of those who planned them, not with the names of those who did the actual labor.

Fundamentals of Music "But a musician is one who has gained by reason an understanding of the science of music, not through servitude of work, but through the dominance of cogitation. "

Does a lion roar in the thicket when it has no prey? Does it growl in its den when it has caught nothing?

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Hear this word, you cows of Bashan on Mount Samaria, you women who oppress the poor and crush the needy and say to your husbands, "Bring us some drinks!"

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

I hate, I despise your religious festivals; I cannot stand your assemblies.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

I will make the sun go down at noon, and darken the earth in broad daylight. I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Strike the capitals until the thresholds sake, and shatter them on the heads of all the people; and those who are left I will kill with the sword; not one of them shall flee away, not one of them shall escape.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Surely the Sovereign Lord does nothing without revealing his plan to his servants the prophets.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

The great house shall be shattered to bits and the little house to pieces. Do horses run on rocks? Does one plow the sea with oxen? But you have turned justice into poison and the fruit of righteousness into wormwood.

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

Therefore this is what the Lord says: "Your wife will become a prostitute in the city, and your sons and daughters will fall by the sword. Your land will be measured and divided up, and you yourself will die in a pagan country. And Israel will surely go into exile, away from their native land."

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

When a trumpet sounds in a city, do not the people tremble? When disaster comes to a city, has not the Lord caused it?

Hebrew Bible (Amos)

"God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

"I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

"You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

He said, "If you listen carefully to the LORD your God and do what is right in his eyes, if you pay attention to his commands and keep all his decrees, I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the LORD, who heals you."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

Then they said, 'The God of the Hebrews has revealed himself to us; let us go a three days' journey into the wilderness to sacrifice to the Lord our God, or he will fall upon us with pestilence or sword.'

Hebrew Bible (Exodus)

"Now therefore, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation. These are the words that you shall speak to the Israelites."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus) God hedges his bets on how powerful he is. "The whole earth" is his, and yet, he's singling out this one people for himself. If Israel gets protection and status out of this deal, what does God get? In other words, why does God need the Israelites? Why is he making this deal if he could have anything he wanted?

When you go, you will not go empty-handed; each woman shall ask her neighbor and any woman living in the neighbor's house for jewelry of silver and of gold, and clothing, and you shall put them on your sons and on your daughters.

Hebrew Bible (Exodus) Here, God isn't just a spiritual friend sitting on your shoulder—he has to deliver the loot. Loyalty ain't free. But wait, what about "Thou shalt not steal?" Well, the Ten Commandments aren't necessarily universal laws; in war, to the victor still go the spoils.

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents,.

Hebrew Bible (Exodus) Think about these rules in the context of your own community. If you were building a society from the ground up, what rules would you write? Would any of them overlap with the Ten Commandments?

So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families.

Hebrew Bible (Exodus) This passage isn't just a matter of good versus evil; it's a loyalty contest. The midwives were loyal to God's will instead of Pharaoh's, and God rewards them with big families. That means continuity, stability, and power for these ladies. Sounds like a good deal.

"You shall no longer give the people straw to make bricks, as before; let them go and gather straw for themselves. But you shall require of them the same quantity of bricks as they have made previously; do not diminish it, for they are lazy; that is why they cry, 'Let us go and offer sacrifice to our God.' Let heavier work be laid on them; then they will labor at it and pay no attention to deceptive words."

Hebrew Bible (Exodus) What a meanie. Why is Pharaoh doing this? It seems pretty nonsensical to make life harder for your own workers, especially when all they did was ask for time off for a religious holiday. This is unreasonable stubbornness, folks, and it's designed to make you, the reader, feel sympathetic towards the Israelites. Pretty sneaky.

"I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous."

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

For my part, I am going to bring a flood of waters on the earth, to destroy from under heaven all flesh in which is the breath of life; everything that is on the earth shall die. But I will establish my covenant with you; and you shall come into the ark, you, your sons, your wife, and your sons' wives with you.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then he took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis)

When he was about to enter Egypt, he said to his wife Sarai, "I know well that you are a woman beautiful in appearance; and when the Egyptians see you, they will say, 'This is his wife'; then they will kill me, but they will let you live. Say you are my sister, so that it may go well with me because of you, and that my life may be spared on your account."

Hebrew Bible (Genesis) Abraham's little fib actually works out pretty well for him. Not only does he come out of Egypt alive, but he leaves as a super-rich man. And hey, if it worked once, why not give it another go: Abraham tells this very same fib again in 20:2. This time, he argues that—technically—Sarah is his half-sister. We can't decide if that makes it better or worse.

Now Sarai, Abram's wife, bore him no children. She had an Egyptian slave-girl whose name was Hagar, and Sarai said to Abram, "You see that the Lord has prevented me from bearing children; go in to my slave-girl; it may be that I shall obtain children by her." And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis) At first, Sarah is gung-ho about the idea of Hagar being her surrogate. The desire for children is so strong that she doesn't really think about what it will mean for another woman to bear her husband's child. Spoiler alert: it causes some problems.

Then she said, "Here is my maid Bilhah; go in to her, that she may bear upon my knees and that I too may have children through her."

Hebrew Bible (Genesis) First things first: "go into her" = have sex with her. Genesis loves it some euphemisms. Back to the story: didn't Rachel learn the surrogacy lesson from Sarah? Are the results any different his time?

When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.

Hebrew Bible (Genesis) Sibling rivalry

And said: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."

Hebrew Bible (Job)

He pours contempt on princes, and looses the belt of the strong. He uncovers the deeps out of darkness, and brings deep darkness to light. He makes nations great, and destroys them; he enlarges nations, then leads them away.

Hebrew Bible (Job)

You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away. And your life will be brighter than the noonday; its darkness will be like the morning.

Hebrew Bible (Job)

I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted. I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You, therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Hebrew Bible (Job) Job finally understood. Whether we are in sin or not, God does what He wills to do. Nothing can stop the plans of the Lord. He is sovereign over all things.

Then his wife said to him, 'Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!' But he said to her, 'You speak as one of the foolish women would speak. Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?' In all of this Job did not sin with his lips.

Hebrew Bible (Job) Job had his priorities straight. It's God first! He didn't side with his wife because she was in blatant sin and blasphemy in her remarks to him.

There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job, and that man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.

Hebrew Bible (Job) Job was blameless, meaning no sin was found in him. Therefore, we can assume that he took sin very seriously and repented immediately when he knew he was in the wrong. He didn't try to keep his sin under control; he got rid of it through repentance immediately! His fear of God was great.

And the Lord said to Satan, 'Behold, all that he has is in your hand. Only against him do not stretch out your hand.' So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord.

Hebrew Bible (Job) Satan cannot do whatever he wants with us. God's sovereignty stretches out to Satan too. Satan is only allowed to do what God allows him to do! Pretty awesome! It shows even more the power of God and how Satan is powerless against Him!

And the Lord said to Satan, "Have you considered my servant, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?"

Hebrew Bible (Job) Yes, God puts us to the test to refine us. He isn't to blame for anything bad that happens to us. He is to be praised at the growth we experience in the storms He allows to come at us.

The second angel blew his trumpet, and something like a great mountain, burning with fire, was thrown into the sea. A third of the sea became blood, a third of living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed.

Hebrew Bible (Revelation)

"Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance, for the Lord is a God who knows, and by him deeds are weighed."

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

And she made a vow, saying, "Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant's misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head."

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

But the Lord said, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things human beings look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

When your days are over and you rest with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, who will come from your own body, and I will establish his kingdom.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel)

Also before they burnt the fat, the priest's servant came, and said to the man that sacrificed, Give flesh to roast for the priest; for he will not have sodden flesh of thee, but raw. And if any man said unto him, Let them not fail to burn the fat presently, and then take as much as thy soul desireth; then he would answer him, Nay; but thou shalt give it me now: and if not, I will take it by force.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) Even though this sounds like the rules for the world's oddest barbecue, the sacrifice of a fat animal used to be extremely important. Going back all the way to Cain and Abel, the sacrificial offering is a Big Deal for the Man Upstairs. But there's a catch. God also likes rules, so if you're going to sacrifice, make sure you're doing it right. Or else.

And the priests' custom with the people was, that, when any man offered sacrifice, the priest's servant came, while the flesh was in seething, with a fleshhook of three teeth in his hand; And he struck it into the pan, or kettle, or caldron, or pot; all that the fleshhook brought up the priest took for himself.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) Even though this sounds like the rules for the world's oddest barbecue, the sacrifice of a fat animal used to be extremely important. Going back all the way to Cain and Abel, the sacrificial offering is a Big Deal for the Man Upstairs. But there's a catch. God also likes rules, so if you're going to sacrifice, make sure you're doing it right. Or else.

My heart rejoiceth in the Lord, mine horn is exalted in the Lord: my mouth is enlarged over mine enemies; because I rejoice in thy salvation. There is none holy as the Lord: for there is none beside thee: neither is there any rock like our God. Talk no more so exceeding proudly; let not arrogancy come out of your mouth: for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) In 1 Samuel, Hannah has to endure the taunts of her rival wife because Hannah can't have children.

With the loyal you show yourself loyal; with the blameless you show yourself blameless; with the pure you show yourself pure, and with the crooked you show yourself perverse. You deliver a humble people, but your eyes are upon the haughty to bring them down. Indeed, you are my lamp, O Lord, the Lord lightens my darkness.

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) In David's prayer, God turns into a kind of mirror for the devotee. God reflects back your own wickedness—or your own kindness and benevolence.

"Is the sword to keep devouring forever? Do you not know that the end will be bitter? How long will it be before you order your people to turn from the pursuit of their kinsmen?"

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) Surprisingly, Joab—who is normally totally violent—is moved by this plea. It's kind of a nice moment, right? It reveals a more human side to this super-warrior—though he's going to change his mind and kill Abner later on.

For she said unto her husband, I will not go up until the child be weaned, and then I will bring him, that he may appear before the Lord, and there abide for ever

Hebrew Bible (Samuel) When we meet Hannah, we discover that she can't have kiddos. So, being a quick thinker, she makes a promise to God. If God will give her a child, then she will give her son back to God. When her son Samuel is old enough, he goes to live in the temple. Believe us, it might seem weird, but to them, it was an honor. We're just not sure Samuel was all that into it during his teenage years.

"Such was the number of the barbarians, that when they shot forth their arrows the sun would be darkened by their multitude." Dieneces, not at all frightened at these words, but making light of the Median numbers, answered "Our Trachinian friend brings us excellent tidings. If the Medes darken the sun, we shall have our fight in the shade."

Herodetus

All these fortifications Deioces caused to be raised for himself and his own palace. The people were required to build their dwellings outside the circuit of the walls. When the town was finished, he proceeded to arrange the ceremonial. He allowed no one to have direct access to the person of the king, but made all communication pass through the hands of messengers, and forbade the king to be seen by his subjects. He also made it an offence for any one whatsoever to laugh or spit in the royal presence.

Herodetus

And my own opinion is that the sun does not get rid of all the water which he draws year by year from the Nile, but retains some about him. When the winter begins to soften, the sun goes back again to his old place in the middle of the heaven, and proceeds to attract water equally from all countries. Till then the other rivers run big, from the quantity of rain-water which they bring down from countries where so much moisture falls that all the land is cut into gullies; but in summer, when the showers fail, and the sun attracts their water, they become low.

Herodetus

As for such of their ships as were damaged and disabled, these, being pursued by the enemy, made straight for Mycale, where the crews ran them ashore, and abandoning them began their march along the continent. Happening in their way upon the territory of Ephesus, they essayed to cross it; but here a dire misfortune befell them.

Herodetus

But this I know: if all mankind were to take their troubles to market with the idea of exchanging them, anyone seeing what his neighbor's troubles were like would be glad to go home with his own.

Herodetus

For if one should propose to all men a choice, bidding them select the best customs from all the customs that there are, each race of men, after examining them all, would select those of their own people; thus all think that their own customs are by far the best.

Herodetus

Great wealth can make a man no happier than moderate means, unless he has the luck to continue in propsperity to the end. Many very rich men have been unfortunate, and many with a modest competence have had good luck. The former are better off than the latter in two respects only, whereas the poor but lucky man has the advantage in many ways; for though the rich have the means to satisfy their appetites and to bear calamities, and the poor have not, the poor, if they are lucky, are more likely to keep clear of trouble, and will have besides the blessings of a sound body, health, freedom from trouble, fine children, and good looks. Now if a man thus favoured died as he has lived, he will be just the one you are looking for: the only sort of person who deserves to be called happy. But mark this: until he is dead, keep the word "happy" in reserve. Till then, he is not happy, but only lucky.

Herodetus

He advises them that tough lands produce tough peoples, so, if they wish to retain the empire he has enabled them so spectacularly to gain, they must not even think about removing themselves to some softer, enervating environment.

Herodetus

He asked, "Croesus, who told you to attack my land and meet me as an enemy instead of a friend?" The King replied, "It was caused by your good fate and my bad fate. It was the fault of the Greek gods, who with their arrogance, encouraged me to march onto your lands. Nobody is mad enough to choose war whilst there is peace. During times of peace, the sons bury their fathers, but in war it is the fathers who send their sons to the grave."

Herodetus

Human prosperity never abides long in the same place

Herodetus

If anyone, no matter who, were given the opportunity of choosing from amongst all the nations in the world the set of beliefs which he thought best, he would inevitably—after careful considerations of their relative merits—choose that of his own country. Everyone without exception believes his own native customs, and the religion he was brought up in, to be the best.

Herodetus

It is better by noble boldness to run the risk of being subject to half of the evils we anticipate than to remain in cowardly listlessness for fear of what might happen.

Herodetus

On their arrival at the shrine of the god, Aristodicus, speaking on behalf of the whole body, thus addressed the oracle: "Oh! king, Pactyas the Lydian, threatened by the Persians with a violent death, has come to us for sanctuary, and lo, they ask him at our hands, calling upon our nation to deliver him up. Now, though we greatly dread the Persian power, yet have we not been bold to give up our suppliant, till we have certain knowledge of thy mind, what thou wouldst have us to do."

Herodetus

So speaking, he unstrung the bow, and gave it into the hands of the messengers. Then, taking the purple robe, he asked them what it was, and how it had been made. They answered truly, telling him concerning the purple, and the art of the dyer - whereat he observed "that the men were deceitful, and their garments also."

Herodetus

Some men give up their designs when they have almost reached the goal, while others, on the contrary, obtain a victory by exerting, at the last moment, more vigorous efforts than ever before.

Herodetus

Such was the man's account of what he had seen. The other, on turning the matter over in his mind, conjectured that this was the body of Orestes, of which the oracle had spoken. He guessed so, because he observed that the smithy had two bellows, which he understood to be the two winds, and the hammer and anvil would do for the stroke and the counterstroke, and the iron that was being wrought for the evil lying upon evil.

Herodetus

The Andrians were the first of the islanders to refuse Themistocles' demand for money. He had put it to them that they would be unable to avoid paying, because the Athenians had the support of two powerful deities, one called Persuasion and the other Compulsion. The Andrians had replied that Athens was lucky to have two such useful gods, who were obviously responsible for her wealth and greatness; unfortunately, they themselves, in their small & inadequate land, had two utterly useless deities, who refused to leave the island and insisted on staying; and their names were Poverty and Inability.

Herodetus

The Lydians have very nearly the same customs as the Greeks, with the exception that these last do not bring up their girls in the same way. So far as we have any knowledge, they were the first nation to introduce the use of gold and silver coin, and the first who sold goods by retail. They claim also the invention of all the games which are common to them with the Greeks.

Herodetus

The following is their manner of sacrifice: They lead the victim, marked with their signet, to the altar where they are about to offer it, and setting the wood alight, pour a libation of wine upon the altar in front of the victim, and at the same time invoke the god. Then they slay the animal, and cutting off his head, proceed to flay the body.

Herodetus

Those who are skilled in archery bend their bow only when they are preparing to use it; when they do not require it, they allow it to remain unbent, for otherwise it would remain unserviceable when the time for using it arrived. So it is with man. If he were to devote himself unceasingly to a dull round of business, without breaking the monotony by cheerful amusements, he would fall imperceptibly into idiocy, or be struck by paralysis.

Herodetus

What the History is really about lies behind this: man, giant-sized, seen against the background of the entire world, universalized in his conflict with destiny, the gods, and the cosmic order. The medium that is most fertile in showing the true nature of reality is the human mind, remembering, reflective, and fertile most of all when its memory and reflection are put at the service of its dreaming and fantastic side.

Herodetus

When the rich give a party and the meal is finished, a man carries round amongst the guests a wooden image of a corpse in a coffin, carved and painted to look as much like the real thing as possible, and anything from 18 inches to 3 foot long; he shows it to each guest in turn, and says: "Look upon this body as you drink and enjoy yourself; for you will be just like it when you are dead.

Herodetus

There are enormous snakes there, and also lions, elephants, bears, asps, donkeys with horns, dog-headed creatures, headless creatures with eyes in their chests (at least, this is what the Libyans say) wild men and wild women and a large number of other creatures whose existence is not merely the stuff of fables.

Herodetus Some of these beings belong to a different, more archaic world, where the boundary between man and beast was fluid and uncertain. We can see a whole spectrum of more or less fantastic creatures, whose ranks included the Cyclops and Sirens of the Odyssey. Herodotus accommodates such creatures in the absence of better information, but at the very least he feels the need to explicitly confirm their place in the new world of critical inquiry.

From Heliopolis to Thebes is a nine days' voyage up the Nile, a distance of eighty-one schoeni or 4860 states. Putting together the various measurements I have given, one finds that the Egyptian coastline is, as I have said, about 420 miles in length, and the distance from the sea inland to Thebes about 714 miles. It is another 210 miles from Thebes to Elephantine.

Herodetus The same striving for precision, exactness and authority also explains his diligence when it comes to numbers, distances and measurements.

The difference in size between the young and the full-grown crocodile is greater than in any other known creature; for a crocodile's egg is hardly bigger than a goose's, and the young when hatched is small in proportion yet it grows to a size of some twenty-three feet long or even more.

Herodetus To Herodotus, at least, measuring the world, mapping new territory, noting the features of distant lands and territories are all part of the process of "sense-making", in which the new and unknown is related to the well-known and familiar. At the same time, Herodotus shows a profound interest in names and naming and the translation of words and concepts from one language into another. He tells us that the name Egypt applied first to Thebes, and that the name of the Asmach people of Egypt means those who stand on the left hand of the king. Being able to name things in the world is part of being able to explain them. Herodotus was not just pioneering critical enquiry; along with the world he discovered, he had to invent a method and a language.

Men's indignation, it seems, is more exited by legal wrong than by violent wrong; the first looks like being cheated by an equal, the second like being compelled by a superior.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Most people, in fact, will not take the trouble in finding out the truth, but are much more inclined to accept the first story they hear.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Such was the end of these men; they were worthy of Athens, and the living need not desire to have a more heroic spirit, although they may pray for a less fatal issue. The value of such a spirit is not to be expressed in words. Any one can discourse to you for ever about the advantages of a brave defence which you know already. But instead of listening to him I would have you day by day fix your eyes upon the greatness of Athens, until you become filled with the love of her; and when you are impressed by the spectacle of her glory, reflect that this empire has been acquired by men who knew their duty and had the courage to do it, who in the hour of conflict had the fear of dishonour always present to them, and who, if ever they failed in an enterprize, would not allow their virtues to be lost to their country, but freely gave their lives to her as the fairest offering which they could present at her feast.

History of the Peloponnesian War

The absence of romance in my history will, I fear, detract somewhat from its interest, but if it is judged worthy by those inquirers who desire an exact knowledge of the past as an aid to the understanding of the future, which in the course of human things must resemble if it does not reflect it, I shall be content. In fine I have written my work not as an essay with which to win the applause of the moment but as a possession for all time.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Think, too, of the great part that is played by the unpredictable in war: think of it now, before you are actually committed to war. The longer a war lasts, the more things tend to depend on accidents. Neither you nor we can see into them: we have to abide their outcome in the dark. And when people are entering upon a war they do things the wrong way round. Action comes first, and it is only when they have already suffered that they begin to think.

History of the Peloponnesian War

When one is deprived of ones liberty, one is right in blaming not so much the man who puts the shackles on as the one who had the power to prevent him, but did not use it.

History of the Peloponnesian War

And it may well be that my history will seem less easy to read because of the absence in it of a romantic element. It will be enough for me, however, if these words of mine are judged useful by those who want to understand clearly the events which happened in the past and which (human nature being what it is) will, at some time or other and in much the same ways, be repeated in the future. My work is not a piece of writing designed to meet the needs of an immediate public, but was done to last for ever.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 22, Page 48) Scholars have made much of how complex and difficult Thucydides is to translate, which owes to his dense and wordy style. Translators have at times disagreed considerably over Thucydides' meaning and whether it is even possible to translate him accurately. This passage sheds light on Thucydides' own expressed intention for his idiosyncratic writing style: to serve accuracy and truth rather than entertainment. Victorian translator Richard Crawley famously rendered the last phrase—"done to last for ever"—as "a possession for all time" by (Book 1, Chapter 22). Ancient Greek poets claimed to bestow immortality on heroes by writing epic poems about them. Thucydides both appropriates and subverts this tradition, first by implying he is immortalizing the events of the Peloponnesian War "for ever" and second by immortalizing events that he can account for through his own and others' first-hand experiences (48). For Thucydides, part of the value of immortalizing true events lies in their likelihood of repeating in the future. Thus, they are an education not only to contemporaries of these events but to all of humanity across time.

Instead we recommend that you should try to get what it is possible for you to get, taking into consideration what we both really do think; since you know as well as we do that, when these matters are discussed by practical people, the standard of justice depends on the equality of power to compel and that in fact the strong do what they have the power to do and the weak accept what they have to accept.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 5, Chapter 89, Pages 401-02) This passage appears in The Melian Dialogue and is one of its more debated and discussed passages in the text. The dialogue here conveys the words of the Athenian speaker, who informs the Melians that being the weaker power compels them to accept what a strong power (in this case, Athens) dictates. At the beginning of the dialogue, the Melians say they are being forced to choose between freedom and slavery; the Athenian does not necessarily dispute that. His point is that the powerful can do whatever they want, which speaks to the corrupting influence power can have. It can be used for good or ill, depending on human motivations and applications.

Thucydides the Athenian wrote the history of the war fought between Athens and Sparta, beginning the account at the very outbreak of the war, in the belief that it was going to be a great war and more worth writing about than any of those which had taken place in the past.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 1, Page 35)

My belief was based on the fact that the two sides were at the very height of their power and preparedness, and I saw, too, that the rest of the Hellenic world was committed to one side or the other; even those who were not immediately engaged were deliberating on the courses which they were to take later. This was the greatest disturbance in the history of the Hellenes, affecting also a large part of the non-Hellenic world, and indeed, I might almost say, the whole of mankind.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 1, Page 35) These are Thucydides' opening sentences, in which he explains his primary motive for writing about the war he lived through and served in as an Athenian general: He believed the war to be the most significant conflict in the history of the Hellenic people, specifically because the two main combatants were so powerful and so polarizing. Later in the book, Thucydides will revisit the motif of power as a corrupting and polarizing force.

In investigating past history, and in forming the conclusions which I have formed, it must be admitted that one cannot rely on every detail which has come down to us by way of tradition. People are inclined to accept all stories of ancient times in an uncritical way—even when these stories concern their own native countries.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 20, Page 46) Here, Thucydides announces himself as skeptical of tradition and of stories from the distant past that cannot be corroborated or evidenced. In Thucydides' time, people looked to the Olympian gods and the myths associated with them to explain human events and their outcomes. Throughout the book, Thucydides juxtaposes people's reliance on sacrifices, oracles, and soothsayers with the consequences of human choices and errors and acts of nature, such as earthquakes, floods, and thunderstorms. In addition to questioning tradition, he questions his own leaders and seeks to assess them rationally and empirically.

It is better evidence than that of the poets, who exaggerate the importance of their themes, or of the prose chroniclers, who are less interested in telling the truth than in catching the attention of their public, whose authorities cannot be checked, and whose subject-matter, owing to the passage of time, is mostly lost in the unreliable streams of mythology. We may claim instead to have used only the plainest evidence and to have reached conclusions which are reasonably accurate, considering that we have been dealing with ancient history. As for this present war, even though people are apt to think that the war in which they are fighting is the greatest of all wars and, when it is over, to relapse again into their admiration of the past, nevertheless, if one looks at the facts themselves, one will see that this was the greatest war of all.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 21, Page 47) In this passage, Thucydides discusses his objection to poets and writers: They are more interested in entertaining their audiences than in telling them the truth. This motif of language or rhetoric functioning outside of truth, which to Thucydides is tied to morality, repeats in later books when he reproduces speeches. At times, audience members object to speeches that sound good but do not have substance, or to speakers using their platforms to denounce their fellow citizens. Yet Thucydides himself claims to be reproducing speeches that he never heard or, if he did, reconstructs from memory and his own beliefs about what would have been appropriate to say, given the occasion.

And with regard to my factual reporting of the events of the war I have made it a principle not to write down the first story that came my way, and not even to be guided by my own general impressions; either I was present myself at the events which I have described or else I heard them from eye-witnesses whose reports I have checked with as much thoroughness as possible. Not that even so the truth was easy to discover: different eye-witnesses gave different accounts of the same events, speaking out of partiality for one side or the other or else from imperfect memories.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 22, Page 48) Contemporary historians would consider eyewitness accounts to be too biased to serve as reliable evidence. However, for Thucydides' time, focusing on what has been seen and heard—and especially cross- referencing eyewitness accounts—represents a radical departure from traditional storytelling. Also radical is Thucydides acknowledging that personal interest and the fallibility of memory can pollute the quality of evidence. In one sense, he holds himself to this standard when he assesses both Athenian and Spartan leaders according to their behavior, rather than Thucydides' own loyalties. Yet his questionable reporting of speeches may be said to fail his standards of truth.

The Spartans voted that the treaty had been broken and that war should be declared not so much because they were influenced by the speeches of their allies as because they were afraid of the further growth of Athenian power, seeing, as they did, that already the greater part of Hellas was under the control of Athens.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 1, Chapter 88, Page 87) Thucydides differentiates between the essential truth that caused the Spartans and the Athenians to break their Thirty Years' Peace and the "openly expressed" reasons (49). Both states expressed that they felt wronged by the other due to how they responded to their allies' conflicts. Both felt deceived or disrespected by the other: Sparta, when Athens built its defensive walls after the Persian invasion; and Athens, when Sparta sent Athenian troops home following the slave rebellion. However, Thucydides boils down the reason for war to one factor: Sparta's fear of Athens' growing power. Power, especially as a corrupting influence, is a recurring motif in the book as Thucydides enumerates the many and various political maneuvers of both the two main powers and their constantly-shifting alliances.

For famous men have the whole earth as their memorial: it is not only the inscriptions on their graves in their own country that mark them out; no, in foreign lands also, not in any visible form but in people's hearts, their memory abides and grows. It is for you to try to be like them. Make up your minds that happiness depends on being free, and freedom depends on being courageous.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 2, Chapter 43, Pages 149-50) This passages is from Pericles' Funeral Oration, one of the more famous speeches presented in the book. Ancient Greek tradition dictated that, following burial of the dead, a speaker be selected to address mourners. For the burial of the war's first casualties, Pericles is chosen. Scholars have noted that the speeches Thucydides purports to reproduce at times seem to be in his voice. Pericles' funeral oration provides a potential example of this. In Book 1, Thucydides expresses his desire to create a text that will "last for ever," invoking the purpose of epic poetry (48). However, while myths lack a basis in empirical fact, Thucydides seeks to mythologize true events from his time (48). Pericles's funeral oration similarly seeks to mythologize contemporary men. He describes "famous men" as being remembered "not by their physical graves but by the greatness of their deeds," which remain "eternal in men's minds" (149). Just as Pericles invokes their fathers' sacrifices in the Persian War, future generations may invoke the men who have died in the current war. They become immortalized by their deeds, as were the Greeks' mythic heroes. In addition to the resonance with Thucydides' stated intentions for his history (creating a lasting monument to greatness), Pericles' words bring into relationship the part (individual soldiers) with the whole (the city of Athens). He honors the deeds and sacrifices of individuals while placing them in a larger context of protecting a city that serves, as Pericles says elsewhere in his oration, as an "education to Greece" (147). Later in the book, Thucydides will note that Athens was at its strongest under Pericles, who was more patriot than politician, unlike the city's later leaders.

So and such they were, these men—worthy of their city. We who remain behind may hope to be spared their fate, but must resolve to keep the same daring spirit against the foe. It is not simply a question of estimating the advantages in theory. I could tell you a long story (and you know it as well as I do) about what is to be gained by beating the enemy back. What I would prefer is that you should fix your eyes every day on the greatness of Athens as she really is, and should fall in love with her.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 2, Chapter 43, Pages 149-50) This passages is from Pericles' Funeral Oration, one of the more famous speeches presented in the book. Ancient Greek tradition dictated that, following burial of the dead, a speaker be selected to address mourners. For the burial of the war's first casualties, Pericles is chosen. Scholars have noted that the speeches Thucydides purports to reproduce at times seem to be in his voice. Pericles' funeral oration provides a potential example of this. In Book 1, Thucydides expresses his desire to create a text that will "last for ever," invoking the purpose of epic poetry (48). However, while myths lack a basis in empirical fact, Thucydides seeks to mythologize true events from his time (48). Pericles's funeral oration similarly seeks to mythologize contemporary men. He describes "famous men" as being remembered "not by their physical graves but by the greatness of their deeds," which remain "eternal in men's minds" (149). Just as Pericles invokes their fathers' sacrifices in the Persian War, future generations may invoke the men who have died in the current war. They become immortalized by their deeds, as were the Greeks' mythic heroes. In addition to the resonance with Thucydides' stated intentions for his history (creating a lasting monument to greatness), Pericles' words bring into relationship the part (individual soldiers) with the whole (the city of Athens). He honors the deeds and sacrifices of individuals while placing them in a larger context of protecting a city that serves, as Pericles says elsewhere in his oration, as an "education to Greece" (147). Later in the book, Thucydides will note that Athens was at its strongest under Pericles, who was more patriot than politician, unlike the city's later leaders.

This, then, was the calamity which fell upon Athens, and the times were hard indeed, with men dying inside the city and the land outside being laid waste. At this time of distress people naturally recalled old oracles, and among them was a verse which the old men claimed had been delivered in the past and which said: War with the Dorians comes, and a death will come at the same time. There had been a controversy as to whether the world in this ancient verse was 'dearth' rather than 'death'; but in the present state of affairs the view that the word was 'death' naturally prevailed; it was a case of people adapting their memories to suit their sufferings. Certainly I think that if there is ever another war with the Dorians after this one, and if a dearth results from it, then in all probability the people will quote the other version.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 2, Chapter 54, Page156) Here, Thucydides reflects on how the plague affected Athenians, in the process presenting a general truth about human nature: People tend to hear what they want to hear. This motif of meaning's mutability recurs in Thucydides' text, both with how people interpreted oracles and sacrifices (as occurs in this example) and with how they interpreted speeches (as occurs throughout the book). Regardless of how wise an argument, people often heard what they wanted to hear and followed their own whims and desires. Thucydides' truth can also apply to scholarly translation debates: Translators see in him what they want or expect to see, and translate accordingly. Thucydides also points out in this example how people looked to oracles as a way to understand events that befell them, rather than analyzing empirical facts to understand patterns of cause and effect.

Fanatical enthusiasm was the mark of a real man, and to plot against an enemy behind his back was perfectly legitimate self-defense. Anyone who held violent opinions could always be trusted, and anyone who objected to them became suspect. To plot successfully was a sign of intelligence, but it was still cleverer to see that a plot was hatching. If one attempted to provide against having to do either, one was disrupting the unity of the party and acting out of fear of the opposition. In short, it was equally praiseworthy to get one's blow in first against someone who was going to do wrong, and to denounce someone who had no intention of doing any wrong at all.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 3, Chapter 82, Page 243) This chapter follows Thucydides' discussion of Corcyra, the first state where civil war occurred. He reflects on the corrosive effects of civil strife, which broke out throughout the Hellenic world during the war. As people divided themselves into warring groups, fanaticism became the norm, and this fanaticism infected every aspect of thought. When prudence, patience, and moderation are no longer valued, atrocities become inevitable. Both Athens' destruction of Melos and the Syracusans' annihilation of the Athenian expedition could be said, through Thucydides' lens, to be the byproducts of this extremism.

So revolutions broke out in city after city, and in places where the revolutions occurred late the knowledge of what had happened previously in other places caused still new extravagances of revolutionary zeal, expressed by an elaboration in the methods of seizing power and by unheard-of atrocities in revenge. To fit in with the change of events, words, too, had to change their usual meanings. What used to be described as a thoughtless act of aggression was now regarded as the courage one would expect to find in a party member; to think of the future and wait was merely another way of saying one was a coward; any idea of moderation was just an attempt to disguise one's unmanly character; ability to understand a question from all sides meant that one was totally unfitted for action.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 3, Chapter 82, Page 243) This chapter follows Thucydides' discussion of Corcyra, the first state where civil war occurred. He reflects on the corrosive effects of civil strife, which broke out throughout the Hellenic world during the war. As people divided themselves into warring groups, fanaticism became the norm, and this fanaticism infected every aspect of thought. When prudence, patience, and moderation are no longer valued, atrocities become inevitable. Both Athens' destruction of Melos and the Syracusans' annihilation of the Athenian expedition could be said, through Thucydides' lens, to be the byproducts of this extremism.

Love of power, operating through greed and through personal ambition, was the cause of all these evils. To this must be added the violent fanaticism which came into play once the struggle had broken out. Leaders of parties in the cities had programmers which appeared admirable—on one side political equality for the masses, on the other the safe and sound government of aristocracy—but in professing to serve the public interest they were seeking to win the prizes for themselves.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 3, Chapter 82, Pages 243) Thucydides further reflects on how the love of power corrupts character, both of individuals and societies as a whole. Fanaticism corrodes truth— expressed in the previous quote in his observation that words changed "their usual meanings" (243). This corrosion of truth, which began on an individual scale, then leads to an overall "deterioration of character," as he believes happened "throughout the Greek world" as a result of civil strife (243). The final outcome of this struggle for power is destruction, as eventually happened to Athens. In laying out cause and effect in this way, Thucydides shows that conflict is the product of human actions and forces of nature rather than gods and myths.

As a result of these revolutions, there was a general deterioration of character throughout the Greek world. The simple way of looking at things, which is so much the mark of a noble nature, was regarded as a ridiculous quality and soon ceased to exist. Society had become divided into two ideologically hostile camps, and each side viewed the other with suspicion.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 3, Chapter 83, Page 244) Thucydides further reflects on how the love of power corrupts character, both of individuals and societies as a whole. Fanaticism corrodes truth— expressed in the previous quote in his observation that words changed "their usual meanings" (243). This corrosion of truth, which began on an individual scale, then leads to an overall "deterioration of character," as he believes happened "throughout the Greek world" as a result of civil strife (243). The final outcome of this struggle for power is destruction, as eventually happened to Athens. In laying out cause and effect in this way, Thucydides shows that conflict is the product of human actions and forces of nature rather than gods and myths.

There was also an earthquake which destroyed part of the wall, the town hall, and a few other buildings. Events of this kind are caused, in my opinion, by earthquakes. Where the full force of the earthquake is felt, the sea is drawn away from the shore and then suddenly sweeps back again even more violently, thus causing the inundation. Without an earthquake I do not see how such things could happen.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 3, Chapter 89, Page 247) Here,Thucydides describes in detail a natural disaster, again demonstrating his focus on the rational, empirical causes of events, in this case what contemporary readers would recognize as a tsunami. Thucydides' analytical eye takes into account that, in additional to human choices, the natural world also impacts the outcome of events. King Agis's invasion being stalled by an earthquake is one of many instances in the book when Thucydides accounts for forces of nature as causal agents. These forces exist in cause- and-effect relationships, rather than being the products of gods' whims or soothsayers' predictions.

"Our resources are the same as ever; we simply miscalculated them, and this is a mistake that may be made by everyone. It is not reasonable, therefore, for you to think that because of your present strength and your recent acquisitions, fortune also will always be on your side. True wisdom is shown by those who make careful use of their advantages in the knowledge that things will change (and so too they will show more intelligence than others when things are going wrong with them); as for war, they will know that its course is governed by the total chances in operation and can never be restricted to the conditions that one or other of the two sides would like to see permanently fixed. Such people, by avoiding the over-confidence which may spring from a success in war, are less likely than anyone to make mistakes and are most anxious, if they can, to come to terms during the period of their own good fortune."

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 4, Chapters 18-19, Page 275) The Spartans' first offer of peace to Athens occurs after Athens' victories at Pylos, a territory in the Peloponnese. Athens was on its way to Sicily but has stopped in Pylos due to a storm—another instance of natural acts impacting human outcomes—and battled successfully against the Peloponnesians. This passage is the speech of a Spartan envoy to Athens, explaining why it is in Athens' best interests to accept Sparta's offer: Sparta's defeat is not the product of arrogance, declining power, or a dearth of resources but simply mistakes, which Athens too may make at some point in the future. At the beginning of the book, Pericles warned Athens that he worried about mistakes they might make. The Spartan envoy echoes Pericles' warning, but the Athenians do not heed it. They reject Sparta's offer and ultimately suffer devastating defeat.

The older men thought that they would either conquer the places against which they were sailing or, in any case, with such a large force, could come to no harm; the young had a longing for the sights and experiences of distance place, and were confident that they would return safely; the general masses and the average soldier himself saw the prospect of getting pay for the time being and of adding to the empire so as to secure permanent paid employment in future. The result of this excessive enthusiasm of the majority was that the few who actually were opposed to the expedition were afraid of being thought unpatriotic if they voted against it, and therefore kept quiet.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 6, Chapter 24, Page 425) Nicias had intended to discourage Athens from embarking on the Sicilian expedition by elaborating on the great expense and preparation it would require. However, his words have the opposite effect: Rather than being discouraged, Athens is energized by the preparations involved. As Thucydides shows earlier with interpretations of oracles, people hear what they want to hear. Because they want to go on the expedition, they hear in an intended warning and opportunity to allow expedition preparations to animate them.

The dead were unburied, and when any man recognized one of his friends lying among them, he was filled with grief and fear; and the living who, whether sick or wounded, were being left behind caused more pain than did the dead to those who were left alive, and were more pitiable than the lost.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 7, Chapter 75, Pages 527-28) In one of the most emotional passages in his text, Thucydides describes the Athenian military's fraught retreat. After losing the final naval battle, the soldiers attempt to retreat by land but are eventually trapped. Scholars have suggested that the attention Thucydides devotes to the soldiers' physical condition, emotional state, and the immense scale of suffering reveal an Athenian bias. Though Athens exiled him and he is able to criticize the city's leaders and their decisions, he may still be a patriot. Interestingly, Thucydides uses the language of divination—"boded evil"—but ties it to empirical facts: One need not be a soothsayer to recognize that sailors traveling on land and trusting foot soldiers instead of ships represents an illogical, even untenable, reversal (528). Reasonable analysis of facts, not oracles, indicates a negative outcome.

Their prayers and their lamentations made the rest feel impotent and helpless, as they begged to be taken with them and cried aloud to every single friend or relative whom they could see; as they hung about the necks of those who had shared tents with them and were now going, following after them as far as they could, and, when their bodily strength failed them, reiterated their cries to heaven and their lamentations as they were left behind.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 7, Chapter 75, Pages 527-28) In one of the most emotional passages in his text, Thucydides describes the Athenian military's fraught retreat. After losing the final naval battle, the soldiers attempt to retreat by land but are eventually trapped. Scholars have suggested that the attention Thucydides devotes to the soldiers' physical condition, emotional state, and the immense scale of suffering reveal an Athenian bias. Though Athens exiled him and he is able to criticize the city's leaders and their decisions, he may still be a patriot. Interestingly, Thucydides uses the language of divination—"boded evil"—but ties it to empirical facts: One need not be a soothsayer to recognize that sailors traveling on land and trusting foot soldiers instead of ships represents an illogical, even untenable, reversal (528). Reasonable analysis of facts, not oracles, indicates a negative outcome.

They had come to enslave others, and now they were going away frightened of being enslaved themselves; and instead of the prayers and paeans with which they had sailed out, the words to be heard now were directly contrary and boded evil as they started on their way back, sailors travelling on land, trusting in hoplites rather than in ships. Nevertheless, when they considered the greatness of the danger that still hung over them, all this seemed able to be borne.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 7, Chapter 75, Pages 527-28) In one of the most emotional passages in his text, Thucydides describes the Athenian military's fraught retreat. After losing the final naval battle, the soldiers attempt to retreat by land but are eventually trapped. Scholars have suggested that the attention Thucydides devotes to the soldiers' physical condition, emotional state, and the immense scale of suffering reveal an Athenian bias. Though Athens exiled him and he is able to criticize the city's leaders and their decisions, he may still be a patriot. Interestingly, Thucydides uses the language of divination—"boded evil"—but ties it to empirical facts: One need not be a soothsayer to recognize that sailors traveling on land and trusting foot soldiers instead of ships represents an illogical, even untenable, reversal (528). Reasonable analysis of facts, not oracles, indicates a negative outcome.

And when they did recognize the facts, they turned against the public speakers who had been in favor of the expedition, as though they themselves had not voted for it, and also became angry with the prophets and soothsayers and all who at the time had, by various methods of divination, encouraged them to believe that they would conquer Sicily.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 8, Chapter 1, Pages 538-39) Thucydides critiques Athenian generals' procrastination and inaction upon arriving at Sicily, which contrasts with the immediate action taken when they are faced with imminent danger. He also notes how outcomes can manipulate memory. People who supported the expedition based on their leaders' speeches, prophecies that were interpreted favorably based on the public mood—both are rethought in the face of devastating defeat. This reformulating of past events also echoes the public's response to the plague, when people adapt their memories "to suit their sufferings" (156).

When the news reached Athens, for a long time people would not believe it, even though they were given precise information from the very soldiers who had been present at the event and had escaped; still they thought that this total destruction was something that could not possibly be true.

History of the Peloponnesian War (Book 8, Chapter 1, Pages 538-39) Thucydides critiques Athenian generals' procrastination and inaction upon arriving at Sicily, which contrasts with the immediate action taken when they are faced with imminent danger. He also notes how outcomes can manipulate memory. People who supported the expedition based on their leaders' speeches, prophecies that were interpreted favorably based on the public mood—both are rethought in the face of devastating defeat. This reformulating of past events also echoes the public's response to the plague, when people adapt their memories "to suit their sufferings" (156).

Insofar as these facts involve what the various participants said both before and during the actual conflict, recalling the exact words was difficult for me regarding speeches I heard myself and for my informants about speeches made elsewhere; in the way I thought each would have said what was especially required in the given situation, I have stated accordingly, with the closest possible fidelity on my part to the overall sense of what was actually said.

History of the Peloponnesian War Some modern critics decry the speeches in Thucydides' History as the failure of an otherwise truthful and authoritative narrator. Yet Thucydides himself apparently saw no problem; there was no conflict between his aim to tell what really happened and his use of speeches, although he did find the subject important enough to warrant an explanation. Among the speeches, the so-called "Funeral Oration" stands out. Allegedly delivered by the famous Athenian statesman and orator Pericles' after the first year of the Peloponnesian war, the speech was intended to celebrate those who had fallen, and offers an appraisal of Athenian culture, identity, and ideology.

And the results, by avoiding patriotic storytelling, will perhaps seem the less enjoyable for listening. Yet if they are judged useful by any who wish to look at the plain truth about both past events and those that at some future time, in accordance to human nature, will recur in similar or comparable ways, that will suffice.

History of the Peloponnesian War Thucydides was convinced that he himself offered a far superior product. As a high-ranking Athenian military commander (or "strategos"), Thucydides brought to the project firsthand experience of the war, as well as an acute understanding of the complex power politics behind events on the battlefield. His analysis of the immediate and underlying causes of the war and his insight into the considerations and motivations of those fighting it remain one of the most brilliant pieces of political history to date.

And this war - even though men always consider the war on hand the most important while they are fighting but once they have ended it are more impressed by ancient ones - will nevertheless stand out clearly as greater than the others for anyone who examines it from the facts themselves.

History of the Peloponnesian War With Thucydides, the writing of war took a new direction. In contrast to the wars of Homer and Herodotus, the armed conflict that concerned Thucydides was fought primarily among Greeks. It also involved events that occurred within the author's lifetime, which introduced a contemporary dimension to the genre. Thucydides focused on offering a strong and authoritative account of the war, its causes, and behind the scenes negotiations. To this end, he largely left out the gods and religious explanations more generally - although there is still more religion in Thucydides than one may think. Instead, he offered a deep analysis of human factors and motivations. Although Thucydides was aware that all authors exaggerate the importance of their topic, he still felt inclined to make a case for this.

As for myself, even at the actual time when I was busiest with great matters, I felt I was also diffusing and disseminating knowledge of those very same deeds throughout the entire earth to be remembered forever. Perhaps, when I am dead, I shall no longer be able to perceive whether their memory does, in fact, remain. Or possibly, as certain philosophers have argued, some part of my being will still be conscious that this is happening. But however that may be, at least I derive satisfaction here and now from the thought and the hope that what I have done will not be forgotten.

In Defense of Archias

For how could we, who undergo the toils and hazards of public life, be spiritless enough to feel satisfied with the idea that, after we have spent not one single moment of our lives in peace and tranquillity, all this effort will go for nothing at the very moment when we die? Many distinguished men have taken great pains to leave their statues and representation behind them. But those are likenesses only of the body, and not of the spirit at all, and so have not we all the more reason to feel enthusiastic about bequeathing a similar image of our intellectual and moral personalities as well, to be moulded and elaborated by the very finest talents available?

In Defense of Archias

He used to read out his poems to Marcus Aemilius Scaurus. He associated with Quintus Catulus senior and junior. His friendship was cultivated by Lucius Crassus. He was also on very intimate terms not only with the Luculli but with Drusus and the Octavii and the whole family of Hortensius. He was held in the greatest honour; so much so, indeed, that the roll of his admirers was by no means limited to men who really wanted to learn and listen, but also came to include the sort of people who found it desirable to pretend they had a taste for such things.

In Defense of Archias

I cannot therefore, I submit, be justly rebuked or censured if the time which others spend in advancing their own personal affairs, taking holidays and attending Games, indulging in pleasures of various kinds or even enjoying mental relaxation and bodily recreation, the time they spend on protracted parties and gambling and playing ball, proves in my case to ave been taken up with returning over and over again to these literary pursuits.

In Defense of Archias

Many is the time when ferocious beasts have been enchanted and arrested in their tracks as these strains come to their ears. Shall we, then, who have been nurtured on everything that is fine, remain unmoved at a poet's voice?

In Defense of Archias

Reading stimulates the young and diverts the old, increases one's satisfaction when things are going well, and when they are going badly provides refuge and solace. It is a delight in the home; it can be fitted in with public life; throughout the night, on journeys, in the country, it is a companion which never lets me down.

In Defense of Archias

Southern Italy was in those days full of Greek culture and learning, and in Latium too such studies were pursued with greater keenness than could be found in the same towns today; while here at Rome also, where the internal situation was peaceful at the time, these pursuits were by no means neglected.

In Defense of Archias

To those recent internal perils which threatened myself and yourselves he proposes to offer an undying testimonial of praise. He belongs, moreover, to a profession which has universally and at all times been declared and believed to possess a sacred character. If then, gentlemen, such great powers warrant the applause of man kind — and truly they deserve the commendation of the gods themselves! — I entreat you to take him under your protection. Let it not be said that a severe judgement of yours has done harm to such a man. Let it be seen instead that your humane decision has brought him relief.

In Defense of Archias

Yes, I confess I am devoted to the study of literature. If people have buried themselves in books, if they have used nothing they have read for the benefit of their fellow-men, if they have never displayed the fruits of such reading before the public eye, well, let them by all means be ashamed of the occupation. But why, gentlemen, should I feel any shame? Seeing that not once throughout all these years have I allowed myself to be prevented from helping any man in the hour of his need because I wanted a rest, or because I was eager to pursue my own pleasures, or even because I needed a sleep!

In Defense of Archias

How many pictures of high endeavor the great authors of Greece and Rome have drawn for our use, and bequeathed to us, not only for our contemplation, but for our emulation! These I have held ever before my vision throughout my public career, and have guided the workings of my brain and my soul by meditating upon patterns of excellence.

In Defense of Archias According to Cicero, some level of public work and engagement is also necessary. Cicero describes the central role that civic engagement plays in creating an ideal Roman man though his own career as an orator and statesmen, which relates his political success prior to giving the Pro Archia. Cicero stresses that the "great authors" of Greece and Rome have provided "pictures of high endeavors" not just for contemplation, but more importantly for emulation. Further, this emulation of great acts must also be accom- panied by proper engagement within a social and political context. In the wake of his consulship, and with the status of novus homo, Cicero exemplifies how literature, history, and poetry provides prime examples for leadership. These examples suggest not only that Cicero has incorporated the teachings from ancient texts into his actions, but also that these actions have been directed towards the public good. Further, these lofty values and moral teachings have guided Cicero's "brain and [...] soul by meditating on patterns of excellence." The takeaway from this passage is that a Roman is well learned and uses this education and morality for the public good. Cicero uses himself as an ex- ample of just how the artes combine with the humanitas to educate the individual, present a clear, ethical model, and direct action aimed at some public career.

For there is no concealing the fact, and it had better be accepted and openly admitted: we all like to be praised! The better the man the greater his desire for celebrity. The philosophers who bid us despise ambition do not forget to affix their names to their own books! On the very writings in which they deplore publicity and self-advertisement, they publicize and advertise themselves.

In Defense of Archias Benefit: fame, advertisements

Indeed, all the arts which pertain to a civilized society have a certain common bond, and by a certain, as it were, kindred relationship are connected to one another.

In Defense of Archias Cicero believes that intellectual activities such as the "enlightened and cultivated pursuits" of literature and poetry, are fundamental to one's Roman cultural identity. In the beginning of the oration, Cicero focuses on cultural and literary pursuits to broaden Roman cultural identity and emphasizes the bonds between the artes and humanitas. This line suggests both the importance that the artes plays in humanitas, or civilized society, and the symbiotic relationship that arts and civilization have with one another. The two formerly dissimilar concepts - artes and humanitas - are linked by a special bond that both normalizes the relationship between the two concepts and connects the members of the trial (Cicero, Archias, the jury, and the praetor) in celebration of this bond.

All literature, all philosophy, all history, abounds with incentives for noble action, incentives which would be buried in black darkness were the light of the written word not flashed upon them.

In Defense of Archias Cicero suggests that the artes are important in the development of moral and virtuous people. This passage demonstrates that from the artes, civilized men can learn about noble action, which would otherwise be lost to the world. Cicero suggests that without the writer, historian, or poet, light could not be shed on history and the foundation it provides to inform future, moralized action. In this way, Cicero combines the artes with humanitas to support one another, and to prescribe a historically-rooted social, political, and military conception of Roman cultural identity. The necessity of civic service is a central part of Cicero's definition of Roman cultural identity.

Had I not persuaded myself from my youth up, thanks to the moral lessons derived from a wide reading, that nothing is to be greatly sought after in this life save glory and honor, and that in their quest all bodily pains and all dangers of death or exile should be lightly accounted, I should never have borne for the safety of you all the brunt of many a bitter encounter, or bared my breast to the daily onsets of abandoned persons.

In Defense of Archias Here, Cicero establishes the importance of literature and poetry with a detailed description of the moral benefits derived from such study, and he uses himself as the prime example of a Roman citizen who has practiced this method. Cicero again praises the use of literature in humanitas, which include the "moral lessons derived from a wide reading" (preaceptis multisque litteris). Cicero teaches that nothing is greater in life than "glory and honor" (laudem atque honestatem), and that attention to these virtues ought to come before "bodily pains," the "dangers of death," or even shameful "exile."19 It is interesting too that Cicero begins to use himself as an example of these Roman virtues, which suggests that as a result of his intense study of philosophy, history, and literature, he has braved many dangers in the name of honor and glory. He also does this daily, suggesting the importance of striving continuously towards these virtues.

For unless I had convinced myself from my earliest years, on the basis of lessons derived from all I had read, that nothing in life is really worth having except moral decency and reputable behaviour, and that for their sake all physical tortures and all perils of death and banishment must be held of little account, I should never have been able to speak up for the safety of you all in so many arduous clashes, or to endure these attacks which dissolute rogues launch against me every day. The whole of literature, philosophy and history is full of examples which teach this lesson — but which would have been plunged in utter darkness if the written word had not been available to illuminate them.

In Defense of Archias Importance of literature, philosophy and history

But it would be entirely wrong to suppose that Greek poetry ranks lower than Latin in value. For Greek literature is read in almost every country in the world, whereas Latin is understood only within its own boundaries which, as you must admit, are restricted. Our deeds, it is true, extend to all the regions of the earth. But the effect of this should be to inspire us with the determination that every country where the strong arm of Rome has carried its weapons should also be given an opportunity to learn of our illustrious achievements. For literary commemoration is a most potent factor in enhancing a country's prestige. And to those who hazard their lives for the sake of glory, such literature is a vigorous incentive, stimulating them to risk fearful perils and perform noble endeavours.

In Defense of Archias Practical benefits of literature (esp of Greek)

It may, however, be a matter for surprise in some quarters that in an inquiry dealing with statute law, in a public trial held before a specially selected praetor of the Roman people and a jury of high dignity, in the presence of a crowded audience of citizens, my speech should be made in a style out of keeping not merely with the conventions of the bar, but also with forensic language. But I crave your indulgence, an indulgence which will, I trust, cause you no inconvenience, and which is peculiarly applicable to the nature of my client's case; and I would ask you to allow me, speaking as I am on behalf of a distinguished poet and a consummate scholar, before a cultivated audience, an enlightened jury, and the praetor whom we see occupying the tribunal, to enlarge somewhat upon enlightened and cultivated pursuits, and to employ what is perhaps a novel and unconventional line of defense to suit the character of one whose studious seclusion has made him a stranger to the anxious perils of the courts.

In Defense of Archias The opening of the Pro Archia Poetia signals an important shift from a forensic speech to a poetic and linguistically inspired oration. This establishes a better platform for Cicero's definition of Roman citizenship and cultural identity to expand beyond the legal definition of both. Cicero opens the Pro Archia by asking for the indulgence of the audience, the jury, and the praetor for the less traditional manner of speech used in his defense of Archias. Cicero elevates the audience and jury to a place of high culture and learnedness. He describes them as "cultivated" and "enlightened," suggesting that he considers these qualities most important toward defining Roman cultural identity. Further, Cicero uses this flattering and elevating language to transform the traditional legal style to suit his client Archias and to suggest the major themes of his defense of the poet.

"As when one grafts a twig around a bough and wraps the bark around them, he will see those branches, growing to maturity, unite: so were these bodies that had joined no longer two but one - although biform: one could have called that shape a woman or a boy: for it seemed neither and seemed both."

Metamorphoses Gender (4.375-379) This story of Hermaphroditus, who is simultaneously a boy and a girl, is where we get our modern word "hermaphrodite." Once again, this story shows Ovid's interest in the possible fluidity of gender.

And here (the only place the flood had spared) Deucalion and his wife, in their small skiff, had landed. First, they prayed unto the nymphs of the Corycian cave, the mountain gods, and Themis - she, the goddess who foretells the future, in those early days, was still the keeper of the Delphic oracle. One could not point to any better man, a man with deeper love for justice, than Deucalion; and of all women, none matched Pyrrha in devotion to the gods.

Metamorphoses Religion (1.316-323) In Ovid's poem, good things come to those who pray to the gods (usually). This is certainly the case for Deucalion and Pyrrha, the only two humans to be spared when a giant flood washes over the earth.

Now my work is finished, which the wrath of Jupiter, or fire, or sword or the gnawing ability of time will never undo....I will live forever.

Metamorphoses These words, from XV.871-879, conclude the Metamorphoses. In this quotation, Ovid insists on the permanence of his work, which may seem strange after his extensive exploration of transformations and changes. But Ovid believes that creating art is an effective way to fend off change of an unwelcome sort. In Metamorphoses, artists, even those with mediocre skills, are the ones who control their own destinies. Philomela transcends her imprisonment by creating a new mode of language. Daedalus escapes from captivity by creating wings to fly over land and sea. Pygmalion avoids the immoral women of his day by carving his ideal mate out of ivory. Ulysses weaves a compelling speech to defeat Ajax. Ovid suggests that like his characters, he possesses the artistry that will give him power over the most feared transformation: from life to death. His body may decay, but he will live on through his artistic creation.

Often he lays on the work of his hand to test if it is flesh or ivory and he does not concede that it is ivory. He kisses it and thinks it kisses him back. He speaks with it, embraces it, and even feels that his fingers sink into its limbs and fears to turn them black and blue.

Metamorphoses This passage, from Book X, lines 254-258, describes Pygmalion's infatuation with his own statue. In the ancient world, conventional wisdom held that the best art replicates nature almost perfectly. To some degree, the story of Pygmalion holds to this wisdom. Pygmalion's statue mimics the female form so exactly that he mistakes it for a real woman. Indeed, the statue transforms into a real woman, as if Pygmalion's artistry is so successful that it cannot remain mere art. At the same time, though, the story of Pygmalion may reverse the conventional wisdom. We could argue that Pygmalion's artistry actually exceeds nature's greatness, that the statue comes alive because nature longs to embody it. Elsewhere in the Metamorphoses, Ovid makes this reversal more explicit. In Book III, there is a grotto so beautiful that, the narrator says, it must be nature's imitation of art. There is a similarly gorgeous grotto in Book XI. The narrator says he does not know whether nature or art created the grotto, but if he had to guess, he would say art. For Ovid, art transcends nature.

But as always, you must wait to see the end of a person, and no one ought to be called blessed until he dies and his funeral is over.

Metamorphoses This quotation, from III.135-138, comes after Cadmus's victory over the serpent and his miraculous founding of Thebes. It expresses a dark sentiment, and its inclusion in the midst of Cadmus's successes reminds us that happiness, prosperity, and good fortune may not last. Present blessings do not guarantee future prosperity. Ovid packs two meanings into this quotation. First, he suggests that we should wait until people have died to assess their lives, since disasters might befall them at the last minute. But the phrase "no one ought to be called blessed until he dies" has another, bleaker meaning. It suggests that we are better off dead and in our graves than alive and subject to the gods' whims. This certainly proves true in Cadmus's case. In Books III and IV, horrors are rained down on Cadmus's family. Actaeon turns into a deer and is savagely torn apart by his own dogs; Semele is killed by Jupiter in the act of copulation; Pentheus is ripped to pieces by his own mother and aunt; Athamas bashes his grandson's head into a rock and chases his last daughter, Ino, and her son over a cliff; and Cadmus and his wife are turned into snakes. Neither is Cadmus's life exceptionally dreadful. The extent of the devastation is unusual, but most of the mortals in the poem suffer similar fates.

Then Phoebus set aside the dazzling rays that wreathed his head; he had his son draw near and said, embracing him: "I have no cause to say you are not mine; Clymene's words about your birth are true. To set you free of any doubts, ask what you will of me: whatever gift you want, you shall receive. And may the pool of Styx on which gods swear, the pool my eyes have never seen, now be the witness of my promise." Just as soon as Phoebus' words were done, young Phaethon asked to have his father's chariot - for one day, to guide its wingèd horses on their way.

Metamorphoses Foolishness (2.40-48) Here we see two kinds of folly. The first is when the Sun-god promises to give his son anything he asks for. The second is Phaethon's reckless request to drive the chariot of the Sun.

So many futile kisses did he waste on the deceptive pool! How often had he clasped the neck he saw but could not grasp within the water, where his arms plunged deep! He knows not what he sees, but what he sees invites him. Even as the pool deceives his eyes, it tempts them with delights. But why o foolish boy, do you persist? Why try to grip an image? He does not exist - the one you love and long for.

Metamorphoses Foolishness (3.427-433) Falling in love with your own reflection in a pool of water, and keep looking at it until you die

"Your value rests in your body, mine in my mind. As much as the one who directs the ship is greater than the one who rows it and as much as the general excels the common soldier, I am greater than you. For in our bodies the mind is of more value than the body, and our real strength is our mind."

Metamorphoses In this quotation, from lines 65-69 of Book XIII, Ulysses concludes his speech on the subject of why he, rather than Ajax, should get Achilles' arms. Ulysses says that brains are more valuable than brawn. He wins the contest thanks to his clever rhetoric, a victory that proves his point. More broadly, though, the Metamorphoses as a whole confirms Ulysses' thesis. Ovid repeatedly stresses the importance of speech. In many of the transformations that take place, the most painful byproduct is the inability to speak. When Callisto is changed into a bear, she cannot speak to her son or beseech Jupiter for help. As a cow, Io cannot speak to her father and must spell out her name with her hoof. Actaeon, a deer, cannot call off his dogs when they attack him. These characters are separated from their loved ones, or even killed, because of the loss of speech. Ineffective speech can also be painful. While lecturing herself about her incestuous love for her father, Myrrha gets lost in a tangle of words. She asks herself, "Will you be the rival of your mother and the mistress of your father? Will you be a sister to your son and a mother to your brother?" (X.344-347) Because she can't give a name to her feelings, Myrrha suffers.

There spring was never-ending. The soft breeze of tender zephyrs wafted and caressed the flowers that sprang unplanted, without seed. The earth, untilled, brought forth abundant yields; and though they never had lain fallow, fields were yellow with the heavy stalks of wheat. And streams of milk and streams of nectar flowed, and golden honey dripped from the holm oak.

Metamorphoses Man & Nature (1.101-112) This passage describes the first Age of human existence, also known as the Golden Age. Ovid's description of this era is typical to that of other Roman writers. The basic idea is that, in this period, people didn't have to do any work because the Earth spontaneously produced their food for them. (Sweet.) The Golden Age as imagined by classical authors has many parallels with the Garden of Eden in the major Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam).

An animal with higher intellect, more noble, able - one to rule the rest: such was the living thing the earth still lacked. Then man was born. Either the Architect of All, the author of the universe, in order to beget a better world, created man from seed divine - or else Prometheus, son of Iapetus, made man by mixing new-made earth with fresh rainwater (for earth had only recently been set apart from heaven, and the earth still kept seeds of the sky - remains of their shared birth); and when he fashioned man, his mold recalled the masters of all things, the gods.

Metamorphoses Man & Nature (1.76-88) This is the first entrance onto the scene of "man" (this is meant to refer to all of humanity, including both men and women). From the very beginning, this new creature is depicted as fundamentally different from the other creatures on earth because of its partially divine nature and shape. This difference is symbolized by the fact that humans stand upright, thus bringing them closer to the stars.

Those parts that bore some moisture from the earth became the flesh; whereas the solid parts - whatever could not bend - became the bones. What had been veins remained, with the same name. And since the gods had willed it so, quite soon the stones that man had thrown were changed to men, and those the woman cast took women's forms. From this, our race is tough, tenacious; we work-hard - proof of our stony ancestry.

Metamorphoses Memory & the past (1.407-415) In these lines, Ovid tries to explain something about the world he lives in by pointing to its origin. In this case, he ascribes the toughness of the age he lives in to the fact that this race of humans originated as stones. We have already seen plenty of examples of this when looking at the theme of "Transformations." What makes this passage slightly different, however, is its focus on language - when he says that humans' veins originated as "veins" in rock. In this way, Ovid is also investigating part of human culture and memory.

Fire, the weightless force of heaven's dome, shot up; it occupied the highest zone. Just under fire, the light air found its home. The earth, more dense, attracted elements more gross; its own mass made it sink below. And flowing water filled the final space; it held the solid world in its embrace. When he - whichever god it was - arrayed that swarm, aligned, designed, allotted, made each part into a portion of the whole, then he, that earth might be symmetrical, first shaped its sides into a giant ball.

Metamorphoses Science (1.26-35) These lines, which come a little bit later in Ovid's account of the formation of the universe, combine his blending of scientific and mythological theories. As you can see, he does say that some "god" was involved in the process, but he also gives a more scientific account when he says how the different elements - Fire, Air, Earth, and Water - arrived at their separate positions in the cosmos. Some people claim that "observation" and "experiment" first came into being with modern science, but Ovid's account shows that this really isn't true. The observation that flame rises became evidence that flame was attracted to a higher position in the cosmos; this theory then seemed to be backed up by the fact that stars - which the ancients thought were made of fire - were seen at the highest level of the sky. Similarly, even though the ancients didn't know Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation, it was their observations that made them think that earth and water tended to sink to the lowest level of the cosmos. Perhaps most striking is the intuition that the world was spherical - "a giant ball." Ovid would definitely not be a member of the Flat Earth Society.

When Echo saw Narcissus roaming through the lonely fields, she was inflamed with love, and - furtively - she followed in his footsteps. As she drew still closer, closer, so her longing grew more keen, more hot - as sulphur, quick to burn, smeared round a torch's top bursts into flame when there are other fires close to it.

Metamorphoses Sex & desire (3.370-374) If you've read our "In A Nutshell" section, you'll know that Ovid started out as a love poet. In Ancient Rome, one of the most common ways in which love poets described the passion of sexual desire was as a burning flame. Ovid's rival, Virgil, the other master of Latin epic, uses very similar imagery to this in Book 4 of his poem the Aeneid. There, he is describing the passion of the Carthaginian Queen Dido. This quote also goes into more detail about how this desire can increase or decrease. Here, Ovid is saying that being near to one another makes passion's flame burn brighter.

As he began to speak and grabbed her right hand and asked her for help and promised to marry her, Medea replied with tears rolling down her face, "I know what I am about to do; ignorance of truth will not deceive me, but love."

Metamorphoses These words, from VII.89-93, are from the first and most sophisticated soliloquy in the poem. In that eloquent, clear soliloquy, Medea analyzes her feelings and considers the ramifications of her actions. She concludes that she has two options: She can be faithful to her father and unfaithful to Jason, or she can help Jason and betray her father. Therefore, her decision to help Jason is also a deliberate and intentional betrayal of her father. She weeps because she fully understands what she is about to do. Because of her wisdom and self-knowledge, Medea seems far more sophisticated even than the gods, who lack insight into their feelings. Medea is the most formidable mortal woman in the poem, but Ovid portrays many women as remarkably intelligent and clear thinking. His mortal female characters are psychologically complex in ways that his male characters and his gods are not. In the next three books, four more women face similar conflicts between duty and love and discuss those conflicts in soliloquies (Scylla in VIII.44-80, Byblis in IX.487-516, Myrrha in X.320-355, and Atalanta in X.611-635). In a poem peopled with one-dimensional characters, these soliloquies offer rare insight into human psychology.

And here, as Pentheus spies the sacred rites with his profaning eyes, the one who is the very first to sight Echion's son - just as she is the first to rush against him madly, and the first to hurl a thyrsus at him - is his mother. "Come, come, my sisters, both of you!" she shouts. "A giant boar is roaming on our slopes: I must tear him apart." Against him rush all that mad crowd, attacking from all sides

Metamorphoses Transformation (3.710-715) As you're probably starting to notice, the only thing Ovid loves better than stories about transformation is transforming his definition of transformation. That sneak. Here he shows us a couple of new ways of thinking about it. First of all, you have the transformation of the women of Thebes into wild, raving monsters, once they become devotees of Bacchus. At the same time, you have the transformation of Pentheus into a boar - though of course, this only happens in the imagination of his mother. Unfortunately for Pentheus, the truth doesn't do him any good. Even though he isn't really a boar, the women treat him as one, and tear him limb from limb.

One man seeks refuge on a hill, another rows in his curving boat where, just before, he'd plowed; one sails across his fields of grain or over the submerged roof of his villa; sometimes an anchor snags in a green meadow; sometimes a curving keel may graze the vines. Where grateful goats had grazed among the grass, the squat sea-lions sprawl. And undersea, the Nereids, amazed, stare hard at cities and homes and groves; through woodlands, dolphins roam; they bump against tall branches, knock and shake oak trees.

Metamorphoses Transformations (1.293-303) One of the interesting things in Ovid's poem is how he switches between describing transformations that could only come about by supernatural means (i.e., when a god turns somebody into a tree) and transformations that are natural. In this passage, from Book 1, Ovid describes the effects of a flood. Now, on the surface, this flood is supernatural in origin (it is caused by Neptune, god of the sea, who is carrying out the orders of Jupiter); on the other hand, even if this flood is much bigger and more impressive than an ordinary flood, is it really that far removed from reality? Can you think of other instances in Ovid's poem that seem to blur the distinction between natural and supernatural? Or is the supernatural sometimes just a metaphor for natural processes?

But as he wept, his voice grew faint, his hair was hid beneath white plumage, and his neck grew longer, stretching outward from his chest. A membrane knit together reddened fingers; wings wrapped around his sides; a pointed peak replaced his mouth. For Cycnus had become a swan - a strange new bird, who does not trust his wings to seek the sky of Jove, as if that bird recalled the cruel lightning bolt the god had hurled. And so the swan seeks out still pools and broad lakes; hating all that's fiery, he chooses water - fire's contrary.

Metamorphoses Transformations (2.367-380) At many times in The Metamorphoses, Ovid tries to explain part of the world as it exists in his day by pointing to what it was before. In this case, Ovid tries to explain the behavior of swans, which don't like to fly very much and stay close to water. He says they do this because the first swan used to be a boy named Cycnus, who was traumatized when he saw the fiery death of his friend Phaethon. (Phaethon made the mistake of trying to drive the chariot belonging to his father, the Sun-god.) In this case, the original being (the boy) and the later creature (the swan) even share a name: "cycnus" was also the Latin word for swan. We still see this word in the English word "cygnet," which refers to a baby swan. Is the word's transformation into English just another metamorphosis? It is also interesting to consider that real swans undergo a metamorphosis from having brown feathers as cygnets to white feathers as adults.

Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame and wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.

New Testament (Corinthians)

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.

New Testament (Corinthians)

For thought absent in body, I am present in spirit; and as if present I have already pronounced judgement in the name of the Lord Jesus on the man who has done such a thing.

New Testament (Corinthians)

If I speak in human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

New Testament (Corinthians)

It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that is not found even among pagans; for a man is living with his father's wife.

New Testament (Corinthians)

No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to us all. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

New Testament (Corinthians)

Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor practicing homosexuals.

New Testament (Corinthians)

"Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?"

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

"How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"

New Testament (Gospel according to John) Nicodemus to Jesus

"The time has come," he said. "The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!"

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. "Good teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

He said to them, "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation."

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask.

New Testament (Philemon)

For this reason, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love.

New Testament (Philemon)

I wanted to keep him with me, so that he might be of service to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel; but I preferred to do nothing without your consent, in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced.

New Testament (Philemon)

So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has wronged you in any way, or owes you anything, charge that to my account.

New Testament (Philemon)

Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the Lord's people.

New Testament (Philemon)

"But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars - they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death."

New Testament (Revelation)

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.

New Testament (Revelation)

And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain.

New Testament (Revelation)

I saw thrones on which were seated those who had been given authority to judge. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded because of their testimony about Jesus and because of the word of God. They had not worshiped the beast or his image and had not received his mark on their foreheads or their hands. They came to life and reigned with Christ a thousand years.

New Testament (Revelation)

I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this scroll: If any one of you adds anything to them, God will add to you the plagues described in this scroll.

New Testament (Revelation)

Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them.

New Testament (Revelation)

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

New Testament (Romans)

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

New Testament (Romans)

Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ.

New Testament (Romans)

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will.

New Testament (Romans)

I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.

New Testament (Romans)

Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned.

New Testament (Romans)

You, however, are not controlled by the sinful nature but are in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, they do not belong to Christ.

New Testament (Romans)

It seems, then, that each partner correctly deems himself worthy of something—that is, that one ought to distribute more to each of them from the friendship, but not more of the same thing. Rather, to the person who is superior, one ought to distribute honor, and to the one in need, gain. Honor is the reward of virtue and of benefaction, whereas aid is the gain appropriate to need.

Nicomachean Ethics (8.14.1163b1-3) Aristotle equates the relationship between friends to the terms of justice normally reserved for conversations about "social contract." While this friendship is not equal—it's based on superiority—there are still things that each person can and should contribute. Aristotle uses the language of distributive justice to explain this concept. The superior friend "gains" nothing tangible, but he does earn honor, which is nobler. While this is a friendship of utility and therefore not the best, it is important: it represents the relationship between a king and his subjects.

If, therefore, there is some end of our actions that we wish for on account of itself, the rest being things we wish for on account of this end, and if we do not choose all things on account of something else—for in this way the process will go on indefinitely such that the longing involved is empty and pointless—clearly this would be the good, that is, the best.

Nicomachean Ethics Choice (1.2.1094a19-23) Aristotle explains his idea of the most "choiceworthy" thing. He doesn't say specifically what it is at this point (why would you keep reading?), but he does make it clear that we yearn for the good that's most complete. When we stumble onto that certain something that doesn't need anything else to make it better, we should choose that as the greatest possible good in life.

And the person lacking self-restraint acts out of desire, but he does not do so from choice; the self-restrained person, conversely, acts from choice but not out of desire. And whereas desire opposes choice, desire does not oppose desire. Desire has to do with what is pleasant and painful, whereas choice has to do with neither the painful nor the pleasant.

Nicomachean Ethics Choice (3.2.1111b14-17) Aristotle begins to narrow the scope of what is truly voluntary by defining the types of actions subject to choice. Desire, it seems, has the upper hand in each of these situations. Because desire comes from a different place than rational thought, it doesn't easily obey our intellect. And without intellect, Aristotle will later tell us, there's no real capacity to deliberate and choose.

What sort of thing is choice, then, since it is none of the things mentioned? It indeed appears to be something voluntary, but not everything voluntary is an object of choice. But is it, therefore, at least an object of prior deliberation? For choice is accompanied by reason and thought.

Nicomachean Ethics Choice (3.2.1112a13-16) The answer is yes: choice specifically is the product of prior deliberation. He'll go further to say that we can't properly choose if we are ignorant or without virtue. While this definitely takes away some personal responsibility from those who do stupid things, it doesn't let them off the hook. The inability to choose may keep us from being truly unjust, but it doesn't make us good or honorable, and therefore excludes us from happiness.

Since what is chosen is a certain longing, marked by deliberation, for something that is up to us, choice would in fact be a deliberative longing for things that are up to us. For in deciding something on the basis of having deliberated about it, we long for it in accord with our deliberation

Nicomachean Ethics Choice (3.3.1113a10-13) This is choice in a nutshell. Note that in order to choose properly, three things have to be present: 1) longing (preferably correct longing); 2) deliberation, or the ability to think before acting; 3) the ability to act under our own steam, not out of compulsion. If any of these are missing or incomplete, we won't act out of choice but out of compulsion, desire, or necessity.

In this way too, it was possible at the beginning for both the unjust person and the licentious one not to become such as they are, and hence they are what they are voluntarily; but once they become such, it is no longer possible for them to be otherwise.

Nicomachean Ethics Choice (3.5.1114a19-22) Choice plays a huge role in the development of our virtues. When we're in the position to deliberate and choose our actions (i.e. what we do is voluntary) we're choosing also the type of person we are becoming. If we choose poorly, we're habituating ourselves to become bad people. And once we walk down that path, there's no turning back because eventually, our reason (and hence, our ability to choose properly) will be destroyed.

For the complete good is held to be self-sufficient. We do not mean by self-sufficient what suffices for someone by himself, living a solitary life, but what is sufficient also with respect to parents, offspring, a wife, and, in general, one's friends and fellow citizens, since by nature a human being is political.

Nicomachean Ethics Community (1.7.1097b7-11) Here, Aristotle tackles the concept of the greatest good, which is happiness. It's the thing that motivates all human behavior and is, all by itself, perfectly satisfying and sustaining. But Aristotle's no fool; he understands that humans can't find happiness in total solitude because we're social beings. His declaration that a "human being is political" means that we are meant to live in community, interacting with and supporting the common good.

As for private expenditures, there are all those that occur just once (such as a wedding or anything of this sort) and anything the whole city or people of worth take seriously, as well as anything connected with the receiving and sending off of foreign guests or the giving and reciprocating of gifts. For the magnificent person is lavish not on himself but on the common affairs.

Nicomachean Ethics Community (4.2.1123a1-5) All virtues benefit the common good through the actions of good people. In this case, it's the magnificent person (one who spends a lot of his own money to improve the community) who sees to the things that ought to be done to ensure social stability. Note that even private expenditures (i.e. weddings) have an impact on the community. Aristotle says that even the furnishings in the magnificent person's house have to be excellent, since it's his duty to stimulate the local economy and receive important civic leaders in style.

For someone who accords with the middle characteristic here is the sort of person we mean by an equitable friend, if his disposition also goes together with feeling affection for the other. This characteristic differs from friendship, however, because it is without the relevant passion, that is, the feeling of affection for those with whom one associates.

Nicomachean Ethics Friendship (4.6.1126b21-23) Aristotle isn't really defining friendship here. Instead, he's talking about the virtue a person might have in relation to the people around him. If this were a Jane Austen novel, we might say that this person is "amiable"—someone who knows how to be friendly in a pleasing way. This virtue is the starting point for friendship, because without it, a person would not be properly sociable.

When people are friends, they have no need of justice, but when they are just, they do need friendship in addition; and in the realm of the just things, the most just seems to be what involves friendship. Yet friendship is not only necessary but also noble, for we praise those who love their friends, and an abundance of friends is held to be a noble thing. Further, people suppose good men and their friends to be one and the same.

Nicomachean Ethics Friendship (8.1.1155a26-31) What exactly is it about friendship that makes justice a secondary concern? Aristotle will later posit that it's because we see our friend as a second self, and it is very nearly impossible to do an injustice to ourselves. This automatic sense of justice between friends also allows other virtues to surface, or at least makes it easier for the good side to come out. Because of this, we always think of our friends as the "best"—kind, worthy, good people. Which is why we always ask a friend for a job recommendation, and not just anyone. And although Aristotle later tells us that we really shouldn't have many great friends, we do feel that he or she who winds up with the most friends wins.

The friendship of a husband for a wife is the same as that in aristocracy, for it accords with virtue, and to the better person goes more of the good and to each what is suited to each. So also in the case of what is just. The friendship of brothers is like that of comrades...also resembling this friendship is the friendship pertaining to timocracy, for the citizens wish to be equals and equitable.

Nicomachean Ethics Friendship (8.11.1161a23-27) Aristotle continues to map the concept of intimate friendships onto political life in order to see how these relationships work on the macrocosmic levels. What we see happening in households can be seen in society at large, as is the case in the friendship between husband and wife and brothers. There's no equality in marital friendship (hey, it's ancient Greece), but there is a kind of kindred nobility there, and a sense that each partner merits their own things. Brothers are the closest to total equality, like a timocracy—a polity governed by those who pay property taxes.

Further, there is also the need of the passage of time and the habits formed by living together; for as the adage has it, it is not possible for people to know each other until they have eaten together the proverbial salt, nor is it possible, before this occurs, for them to accept each other and to be friends until each appears to each as lovable and is trusted.

Nicomachean Ethics Friendship (8.3.1156b26-28) This seems like a lot of work to say that someone is our friend. But Aristotle wants to make sure that we don't jump headfirst into an inferior friendship that'll end in a lot of heartache. First requirement: friends have to spend a lot of time together. In doing so, two things happen: we become like each other (similar habits) and we learn to trust. It's also important that each person finds something stable in the other person to admire. Otherwise, we might wind up with a friendship of convenience rather than the real thing.

For it seems possible for someone to possess virtue even while asleep or while being inactive throughout life and, in addition to these, while suffering badly and undergoing the greatest misfortunes. But no one would deem happy somebody living in this way, unless he were defending a thesis.

Nicomachean Ethics Happiness (1.5.1095b34-1096a2) It's rare, but we see a little bit of Aristotelian humor in here—zing! The philosopher's telling us that we have to be very careful when defining happiness, since there are so many loopholes. While he does feel that virtue is part of a happy life, he knows that it can't be the extent of it, since a person can display virtue and still lack other essential characteristics of a good life (i.e. consciousness and health). His conclusion: there has to be something greater that defines happiness.

The simply complete thing, then, is that which is always chosen for itself and never on account of something else. Happiness above all seems to be of this character, for we always choose it on account of itself and never on account of something else. Yet honor, pleasure, intellect, and every virtue we choose on their own account...but we choose them also for the sake of happiness, because we suppose that, through them, we will be happy.

Nicomachean Ethics Happiness (1.7.1097a35-1097b5) Aristotle supposes that the ultimate good that every human being searches for has to be something so fantastic that we would live inside of it and only it forever if we could, without the need for anything else. And while the virtues are admirable, they aren't that certain something we reach for through good behavior. Happiness fits the bill precisely because it is the thing that motivates all our actions and choices—even if we make the wrong ones.

But those fortunes that turn out in the contrary way restrict and even ruin one's blessedness, for they both inflict pains and impede many activities. Nevertheless, even in the midst of these, nobility shines through, whenever someone bears up calmly under many great misfortunes, not because of any insensitivity to pain but because he is wellborn and great souled.

Nicomachean Ethics Happiness (I.10.110027-33) It'd be impossible to talk about happiness without talking about its opposite (hey, it's Aristotle). He is responding to the idea that a person's life is often judged happy or unhappy based on last-minute reversals of fortune. He warns us not let the natural variations in good fortune change our opinion of a person's happiness. Still, there are some catastrophes that really do make us re-assess our bliss levels. Even when we suffer, there's an opportunity to recover a bit of life satisfaction, if we respond with a stiff upper lip.

But in every action and choice, it is the end involved, since it is for the sake of this that all people do everything else. As a result, if there is some end of all actions, this would be the good related to action; and if there are several, then it would be these.

Nicomachean Ethics Happiness (I.7.1097a21-24) Aristotle's told us that in our pursuit of happiness, we seek the ultimate, complete good. Any good that can be made better by something else simply doesn't qualify. But what is this great good, this end that we all search for? Happiness, of course. There is nothing greater that we hope or aim for when we do anything (including waking up in the morning).

For it is impossible or not easy for someone without equipment to do what is noble: many things are done through instruments, as it were—through friends, wealth, and political power. Those who are bereft of some of these...disfigure their blessedness, for a person who is altogether ugly in appearance, or of poor birth, or solitary and childless cannot really be characterized as happy

Nicomachean Ethics Happiness (I.8.1099b31-1099b5) Even in the 4th Century B.C., Aristotle knows that those who are born without social privilege have a much harder time doing the things that bring them honor and happiness in this world. And although there is a kind of self-sufficiency in happiness (or "blessedness"), Aristotle's observations here show that even the happy person needs some external goods—like companionship and wealth—to maintain a good life.

For it is impossible or not easy for someone without equipment to do what is noble: many things are done through instruments, as it were—through friends, wealth, and political power. Those who are bereft of some of these...disfigure their blessedness, for a person who is altogether ugly in appearance, or of poor birth, or solitary and childless cannot really be characterized as happy.

Nicomachean Ethics Justice/judgement (1.8.1099b31-1099b5) Aristotle shows what we might consider a "modern sensibility" when it comes to his understanding of what it takes to do the right thing. He's speaking here of the advantages of privilege (i.e. having the "equipment to do what is noble") and the great disadvantages that come when a person is without. Without certain goods, a person has a much harder time being virtuous, and as a result, difficulty being completely happy. His narrow concept of what it means to be happy is both thoughtful (considering disadvantage) and a bit elitist (writing off those without privilege).

[The tactful or witty person] will not do just anything or everything, of course, since a joke is a kind of slander and legislators prohibit the slandering of some things, but they perhaps ought also to prohibit joking about some things. The refined and liberal person, then, is disposed in this way, he being like a law unto himself.

Nicomachean Ethics Justice/judgement (4.8.1128a29-31) Two different views of "judgment" are active in this passage. First, there's the correct reason of the witty or tactful person that allows him to judge how properly to joke and please his friends. Then, there's the more legalistic meaning, in which a person might be subject to the law if he lacks tact and moral judgment. It makes perfect sense, then, that the person who uses correct reason can be judge of the situation (i.e. "a law unto himself"), since he knows how to walk the line between amusement and slander.

The laws pronounce on all things, in their aiming at the common advantage, either for all persons or for the best or for those who have authority, either in accord with virtue or in some other such way. As a result, we say that those things apt to produce and preserve happiness and its parts for the political community are in a manner just.

Nicomachean Ethics Justice/judgement (5.1.1129b15-19) Aristotle sees the law as the main preserver of equity and peace in society. It's the job of lawgivers to look into all aspects of human behavior and life in order to make the kinds of laws that will produce good citizens (by setting clear and reasonable boundaries) and promote justice (correcting inequalities, punishing lawbreakers).

And we posit the work of a human being as a certain life, and this is an activity of soul and actions accompanied by reason, the work of a serious man being to do these things well and nobly, and each thing is brought to completion well in accord with the virtue proper to it—if this is so, then the human good becomes an activity of soul in accord with virtue.

Nicomachean Ethics Life, Consciousness & Existence (1.7.1098a13-15) In order to figure out which characteristics belong to human happiness, Aristotle wants to decide what kind of work is proper to human beings. Hint: it's to live a life of reason, constantly acting in virtuous ways. But this isn't just the work of humans; it's the work of happy humans, since life in accordance with virtue is the highest good.

Pleasure also completes the activities, as indeed it does in being alive, which people long for. It is reasonable, then, that they aim also at pleasure, since it completes for each what it is to be alive, which is a choiceworthy thing.

Nicomachean Ethics Life, Consciousness & Existence (10.4.1175a16-17) Aristotle's trying to convince us that pleasure may be the premier good thing about being alive. And he's doing a pretty good job of it. He says that life itself is a kind of activity within which we choose other activities that accord with our virtues. While each of these activities are good in themselves, they are made even better by pleasure. Pleasure, then, completes human activity, which means that a clever human being might, in fact, be doing the things he does specifically because pleasure is the end he's aiming for from the beginning.

And the more he possesses complete virtue and the happier he is, the more he will be pained at the prospect of death. For to this sort of person, living is especially worthwhile, and he is deprived of the greatest goods knowingly—and this is a painful thing.

Nicomachean Ethics Life, Consciousness & Existence (3.9.1117b10-13) Aristotle's speaking of courage and the paradox relating to it: though it is always pleasant to do what is right, it can sometimes be a painful thing to do. This is especially true in the most extreme case (i.e. sacrificing a good life), since we know that we won't be around to enjoy the greatest pleasure: existing. Why, then, behave virtuously? Aristotle doesn't answer that here. He does imply, however, that courage is a virtue that can be had in degrees—it's okay if we aren't willing to go all the way and die for our principles.

The refined and active, on the other hand, choose honor, for this is pretty much the end of the political life. But it seems to be more superficial than what is being sought, for honor seems to reside more with those who bestow it than with him who receives it; and we divine that the good is something of one's own and a thing not easily taken away.

Nicomachean Ethics Principles (1.5.1095b22-27) In trying to get at the ultimate good that makes us happy, Aristotle considers honor. It seems like a good choice: we all love to be publicly recognized for the good things we do. But honor, like so many other good things, rests in the hands of the community (who judge who deserves merit) and not within ourselves. And things that are entirely out of our control can't be the ultimate good—since it depends on the whims of those who might not even be virtuous.

But those who possess such goods in the absence of virtue do not justly deem themselves worthy of great things, nor are they correctly spoken of as great souled...And people who possess such goods become haughty and hubristic because, in the absence of virtue, it is not easy to deal with the goods of fortune in a suitable manner.

Nicomachean Ethics Principles (4.3.1124a27-31) People of fortune often have a sense of privilege that comes with the territory. Because they have money and power, they believe themselves to be good or virtuous—sometimes even excessively so. Aristotle says that virtue cannot rise from external goods, like money. The virtues have to be present and active in the person. Otherwise, good fortune can become a calamity for the human soul.

But instances of good fortune too seem to contribute to greatness of soul, since the wellborn deem themselves worthy of honor, as do those who possess political power or wealth. For they are in a position of superiority, and everything superior in point of goodness is more honorable. Hence these sorts of things render people more great souled, since they are honored by some as a result.

Nicomachean Ethics Society & class (4.3.1124a21-25) Aristotle's being pretty slippery in his assessment of privilege here. In this conversation about the "great souled person," he seems to be saying that wealth guarantees virtuous nobility. And he kind of is. However, Aristotle isn't implying that all people with money are noble. While it may be easier for them to achieve a high moral standing, their power and wealth don't guarantee goodness, let alone a perfection of virtue.

The deviation from kingship is tyranny, for while both are monarchical, they differ most because the tyrant looks to what is advantageous for himself and the king to what is advantageous for the ruled.

Nicomachean Ethics Society & class (8.10.1160b1-3) It's hard to argue with these definitions of kingship and tyranny, even if Aristotle's views on kingship are a little rose-colored. He defines the regimes—or types of rule—not in order to give us a civics lesson; he does it to show that what we know about political society is reflected in more intimate communities. So what we know of the good king might be applied to the father of a household, and so on down the line. Whatever notions Aristotle has of justice as it applies to society as a whole, then, can easily be adapted to individual relationships.

But since different things go to parents, brothers, comrades, and benefactors, one must distribute to each what is properly his and fitting. People appear to do this in fact: they invite their relatives to weddings because the family line is something they share in common, as are the actions pertaining to their family.

Nicomachean Ethics Society & class (9.2.1165a16-21) Aristotle speaks often about distributive justice, which basically states that each person in any given community (including families) gets what's rightly theirs. That doesn't mean that each person receives (or gives) the same things, but that each person receives in proportion to what they contribute to the common good. The same principle applies to giving or giving back: you've got to render what is properly due to each person according to rank or relationship. This type of exchange is the grease that keeps the wheels of society—on the macro- and micro-levels—turning.

For even if this is the same thing for an individual and a city, to secure and preserve the good of the city appears to be something greater and more complete: the good of the individual by himself is certainly desirable enough, but that of a nation and of cities is nobler and more divine.

Nicomachean Ethics Society & class (I.2.1094b7-10) Aristotle's speaking here of the greatest good, which he posits is the "political art." He chooses this because human life is carried out in community and the best chance we have for happiness as individuals is to live in a just society governed by good laws. Though he values individual happiness and will talk about how happy individuals contribute to the health of the city, he makes no bones about who's more important here. Individual happiness isn't necessarily a casualty in the search for the common good—but it's a lot less important.

But experience of particular things seems to be courage as well. So it is that Socrates too supposed courage to be knowledge. Yet different people are experienced in different things, and in matters of war, it is the professional soldiers who are such. For there seem to be many false alarms in war, which professional soldiers especially see through.

Nicomachean Ethics Wisdom & knowledge (3.8.1116b4-7) Aristotle has a lot of positive things to say about "knowers," or people who seem to have a head for knowing something, as an expert might. In this case, having professional knowledge (an intellectual virtue) can lead to displaying a moral virtue (courage, in this case). However, knowledge only gets you so far. For these "courageous" soldiers, things begin to fall apart when they enter into unknown territory, whenever something exceeds their experience.

Similarly too, people suppose that to know the just and unjust things is in no way to be wise, because it is not difficult to comprehend what the laws say (but these are not the just things, except incidentally). But how the just things are done and how they are distributed—this is indeed a greater task than to know what is conducive to health.

Nicomachean Ethics Wisdom & knowledge (5.9.1137a10-4) Though both wisdom and comprehension are both intellectual virtues, Aristotle's pretty clear here about which one is superior. Simply grasping intellectually what lawgivers say about justice isn't enough to maintain the balance of society. True wisdom in this case requires both perception and experience to understand how justice works best on a day-to-day (and case-to-case) basis. It's not hard to imagine that Aristotle's responding to those who maybe poke fun at the "political art."

But stating the arguments that proceed from science is not a sign of anything, for even people in the grip of these passions state demonstrations and verses of Empedocles, and those who are first learning will put together arguments but not yet understand them. For one must grow naturally into the knowledge, and that requires time.

Nicomachean Ethics Wisdom & knowledge (7.3.1147a18-22) Aristotle tells us that knowledge in itself doesn't constitute wisdom...or even prudence. In both cases, we have to contemplate "science" long enough to "have" it, to be in actual, useful possession of it. Otherwise, we're really no better than parrots. Drunk parrots, at that.

For it is not when science in the authoritative sense seems to be present that the experience of the lack of self-restraint occurs, nor is it this science that is dragged around on account of passion, but rather that [knowledge] which is bound up with perception.

Nicomachean Ethics Wisdom & knowledge (7.3.1147b16-18) Aristotle divides the world into two types of people: the knowers and the non-knowers. Non-knowers are those who lack knowledge, either through a lack of intellect or education, or from some temporary condition (i.e. drunkenness). It ought to be impossible for a knower to fall into error (i.e. lacking self-restraint). But humans can know certain things (universal knowledge) and still lack the knowledge of "defining boundaries," or the limits of things. When that happens, we only have partial knowledge and may not be able to see consequences of our actions. So while we may know that indulgence in fifteen doughnuts every day isn't great for us, we may still be shocked at a diagnosis of diabetes.

Now as we keep our watch and wait the final day, count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.

Oedipus Rex After Creon has dealt with Oedipus's fate, they both depart the stage to leave only the chorus. The chorus ends the play with these lines that reaffirm the power of the gods to dictate each action of man. Once more, the chorus functions as a way to explain the morals and meanings of the tragedy to the audience. Their perspective has changed radically over the course of play—from full-heartedly supporting Oedipus, to questioning his position, and finally to condemning him to his fate. Here, they extrapolate from the specific example of Oedipus to offer a more broad-reaching comment on humanity. They take their king as proof that none can escape the control of the gods, and that their earlier skepticisms of divine control were unwise. As a result, men can only "keep our watch and wait the final day," implying that observation and submissiveness are the only possible responses to destiny. Oedipus's proud attempts to escape or challenge his fate are deemed foolhardy, and thus any active attempt to shift one's life will ultimately fail. The chorus's next line is far darker, however, for it says that no one will be "free of pain" until death. This seems to imply that being bound by destiny is by definition a type of pain—and that watching and waiting will similarly bring pains that can never be fully eluded. Sophocles's final lesson extracted from Oedipus is thus a cautionary and dark one: none can escape the providence of the gods, and therefore one must accept a life of pained predestination.

But whether a mere man can know the truth, whether a seer can fathom more than I— there is no test, no certain proof though matching skill for skill a man can outstrip a rival. No, not till I see these charges proved will I side with his accusers.... Never will I convict my king, never in my heart.

Oedipus Rex After Tiresias and Oedipus have finished fighting, the chorus expresses their sympathy for the king. They acknowledge the power of oracles, but also refuse to accept Tiresias's judgement until it has been proved certain. The chorus challenges Tiresias, as Oedipus did before, on whether he does indeed profess prophetic powers above those of humans. They wonder "whether a seer can fathom more than I," thus expressing a deep-seated skepticism with oracles. Like Oedipus, they want the proof of "matching skill for skill"—an even playing field, such as when Oedipus proved his strength and intelligence against the Sphinx. Perhaps the chorus, composed as it is by residents of Thebes, has been influenced by Oedipus's more secular and humanist sensibilities, which prioritize human agency over the will of the gods. Indeed, they seem willing to defend Oedipus to great lengths when they say "Never will I convict my king, never in my heart." That is to say, the chorus is willing to deny explicit evidence against Oedipus due to their strong attachment to him as a ruler. This passage also marks the chorus as distinctly ignorant rather than omniscient. They play the role of an audience that is not already intimately aware of the story of Oedipus—and thus they allow viewers to compare their own knowledge against what a more ignorant viewer might assume. This strategy is part of what allows Sophocles to re- stage an old tale and maintain dramatic tension, for he can maintain the semblance of unfamiliarity in the perspective of the chorus.

Blind who now has eyes, beggar who now is rich, he will grope his way toward a foreign soil, a stick tapping before him step by step.

Oedipus Rex After pronouncing that Oedipus will suffer a terrible end, Tiresias tells this riddle about the killer of Laius. He describes the pitiful way the killer's life will end. As is characteristic in the play, the elements of the prophecy will be easily recognized by anyone who knows the Oedipus story. "Blind who now has eyes" refers to the way Oedipus will gouge out his own eyes once he learns of his crimes, while "beggar who now is rich" foretells how he will fall swiftly from king to vagrant. As before, Tiresias uses Oedipus's own language—"step by step"—from the king's earlier curse on the killer of Laius. Here, Tiresias uses the phrase more literally to refer to the way Oedipus will, once he is blinded, move slowly away from Thebes as an outcast. That Tiresias has left Oedipus with a riddle recalls the hero's own triumph when he solved the riddle of the Sphinx. In a sense, Tiresias is offering a second test to Oedipus's character: perhaps if he were able to solve this relatively straightforward riddle, he could avoid his fate. That he cannot do so speaks to how extensively Oedipus has been blinded by his pride—to the point that he cannot perform the same task that garnered him acclaim in Thebes to begin with. Sophocles thus renders Oedipus's tragic downfall the result of not just any character flaw, but rather one that undermines his defining heroic characteristic: intelligence.

Now my curse on the murderer. Whoever he is, a lone man unknown in his crime or one among many, let that man drag out his life in agony, step by painful step—

Oedipus Rex Having learned that the plague is a punishment for the murder of Laius, Oedipus here condemns the killer. He spitefully demands that his life be drawn out in extended pain rather than lived freely or ended quickly. For an audience familiar with the Oedipus story, these lines unwittingly predict the tragic hero's fate. Oedipus highlights how the actual identity of the murderer does not matter to him, whether he has committed many crimes before or whether this is his first. The phrase "unknown in his crime" implies that the murderer may not even be aware of what he has done, which is the precise situation in which Oedipus finds himself. That Oedipus's curse demands he "drag out his life in agony" speaks to a certain type of vengeful cruelty: the victim is not supposed to merely receive punishment or death, but rather experience a torturous decline (as Oedipus himself will). This passage brings up a point of much contention in analyses of this play: does Oedipus bring his fate upon himself? Here, the protagonist seems to have cursed himself and demanded his own torturous death—which would make the play's plot his own fault. In this case, Oedipus is not just at the whims of destiny and the gods, but rather lives a tragic life due to human action and free will. The tension between these two poles—fate and human agency—remains a central problem to the play, and it begins already in this famous curse.

You who set our beloved land—storm-tossed, shattered— straight on course. Now again, good helmsman, steer us through the storm!

Oedipus Rex In the wake of Oedipus's fight with Creon, the chorus continues to defend their ruler. They repeatedly call upon him to save them from the current plague. Sophocles underlines, once more, how fully the populace of Thebes has aligned themselves with Oedipus. Though they do diverge from his viewpoints at times—for instance urging a merciful treatment of Creon—their general view is entirely sympathetic to him. Here, the chorus again brings up the way Oedipus had previously saved their "beloved land," this time making use of a sailing metaphor, in which the plague is a "storm" and their ruler a "good helmsman." The image presents composure and good judgment as the necessary qualities to save Thebes—both of which Oedipus is, of course, lacking at this point. Yet the chorus seems unaware of this discrepancy. That they simply continue to implore Oedipus speaks to their own sort of blindness—for they, like their ruler, cannot tell that he acts unjustly and will thus bring tragedy upon himself.

Great laws tower above us, reared on high born for the brilliant vault of heaven— Olympian Sky their only father, nothing mortal, no man gave them birth, their memory deathless, never lost in sleep: within them lives a mighty god, the god does not grow old.

Oedipus Rex Jocasta and Oedipus have just finished discussing the significance of the prophecies that each has received. When they depart, the chorus offers a chilling and complex speech about the state of the gods in Thebes. Their first move is to aggrandize the gods and stress their omnipresence in human affairs. That "Great laws tower above us" indicates that a different and more powerful set of rules exist in the divine realm—ones that would supersede the relatively minute human regulations. Indeed, "no man gave them birth," thus directly contrasting the power of Oedipus as a human king with the divine rulers who exist entirely independently of him. After a series of somewhat heretical exchanges between Jocasta and Oedipus, this passage firmly reinstates the importance of the gods for the chorus, and thus for Thebes society. A particular emphasis is placed on how these rules and their creators are eternal and immune to decay. The chorus fixates on how they are "nothing mortal," "deathless," and "the god does not grow old"—which contrasts with the ephemeral nature of humans and their laws. Part of their entitlement thus comes from the way they are immune to the current state of Thebes and the eventual fate of Oedipus.

Listen to me and learn some peace of mind: no skill in the world, nothing human can penetrate the future.

Oedipus Rex Jocasta gives this consoling speech after Oedipus recounts his interaction with Tiresias. She claims that prophets have no real knowledge of events to come, and that Oedipus therefore should not be disturbed by what Tiresias has said. These lines make a sharp division between the human and divine realms: Jocasta associates "skill" with "human," both of which contrast with the providence of the "future." Much like Oedipus praised his intelligence over the bird auguries of Tiresias, Jocasta claims that human skill can only affect the current state of affairs and cannot "penetrate" or enter any zone beyond that of the present. Though this appeal might strike some as disheartening, it would grant "peace of mind" to Oedipus and Jocasta by denying the significance of the prophecies they have heard thus far. That is to say, it would allow them to exist in their human realm without the anxiety that they should change their actions to respond to the unique "skill" of Tiresias. It is important to clarify here that Jocasta is not denying the existence or providence of the gods. This is not an atheistic passage, but rather one that sharply delineates between divine and earthly realms. Her claim is that mediums such as Tiresias do not actually bridge the gap between the two realms, but rather exist fully in the human one—and thus have no unique access to the divine.

Man of agony—that is the only name I have for you, that, no other—ever, ever, ever!

Oedipus Rex Jocasta has just concluded that Oedipus is her son and she repeatedly implores him not to continue his investigation. When he refuses to do so, she screams this at him. This passage plays on the way that Oedipus introduced himself at the play's onset: recall that he selected not to use his name at first, but rather implied that all should know him based on his fame. Here, Jocasta similarly replaces his name, but instead with the epithet "man of agony," thus foreshadowing how this will be Oedipus's new legacy by the play's end. Beyond condemning him to a life of misery, Jocasta's language also subtly wipes away his identity. Replacing his specific name with this generic term denies the coherence between Oedipus's current royal position and his actual identity. Jocasta implies that he will hold "no other" title or identity in the years to come, and that this identification with agony with be permanent: "ever, ever, ever!" Thus Sophocles uses Jocasta's moment of realization—called in Greek tragedy an anagnorisis—to demonstrate the pending end of Oedipus's identity as it is currently defined.

Take me away, far, far from Thebes, quickly, cast me away, my friends— this great murderous ruin, this man cursed to heaven, the man the deathless gods hate most of all!

Oedipus Rex Oedipus continues to disparage his fate and to speak of madness and darkness. He then asks to be thrown out of Thebes. In contrast to his earlier proud position as a king, Oedipus has descended to the lowliest role of beggar and outcast. He thus rejects the city he had saved and ruled and affirms that he was "cursed to heaven" or fated to this end. Oedipus further reaffirms the importance of the "deathless gods," which had previously been said to be in decline. Yet as with his blindness, Oedipus insists upon acting decisively and taking control of his fate: he speaks in commands to others and curses himself—as if to preempt the curses and judgments of others. In an odd way, then, he seems to be defending his own minute quantity of human agency up to the very end of the play. One should note, however, that the passage recreates, in an odd way, the first moments of Oedipus's life—when as a baby he was cast away from the city. A circular narrative like this affirms how his destiny was set to begin with: both because it repeats a similar motif and because it shows how inescapable his destiny as an outcast must be. Though he may have been able to avoid it as a young baby, his fate eventually returned. Thus we see at the play's end a complicated negotiation of fate and agency, in which the structure of the tragedy reaffirms the power of destiny even as the hero seeks to carve out a space for his own control.

Look at you, sullen in yielding, brutal in your rage— you will go too far. It's perfect justice: natures like yours are hardest on themselves.

Oedipus Rex Oedipus permits Creon to leave without punishment. But as he departs, Creon shouts this condemnation of Oedipus. His insult points again to the crippling pride in Oedipus's personality. That he is "sullen in yielding" speaks to how reluctant he is to accept the calming advice of Jocasta and the chorus, while "brutal in your rage" reiterates how terrifying he is if allowed to fully unleash his frustration. Creon points again to how Oedipus is unable to mediate his response to the given situation based on whether he should be angry or accepting. As a result, he "will go too far," or overreach what is permitted by his royal position. Beyond reiterating Oedipus's character flaws, Creon's language also stresses that Oedipus's fate is the result of his own faulty actions. Saying "it's perfect justice" implies that Oedipus's story is not the result of a pre-designed divine plot to unseat him, but rather is the natural and necessary result of his own arrogant behavior. Similarly, "natures like yours are hardest on themselves" places the burden of agency onto Oedipus's "nature." By Creon's account, it is the tragic hero who brings fate on himself.

Thebes, city of death, one long cortege and the suffering rises wails for mercy rise and the wild hymn for the Healer blazes out clashing with our sobs our cries of mourning— O golden daughter of god, send rescue radiant as the kindness in your eyes!

Oedipus Rex The chorus continues to lament the current decrepit state of Thebes. They narrow their earlier general call for help from the gods to one toward a specific deity (seemingly Artemis, a daughter of Zeus, although she is only one of a litany of gods and goddesses called upon by the Chorus). Sophocles' language here is highly lyrical: that Thebes is deemed "city of death" shows how horrifically it has been affected by the plague, and the phrase "one long cortege" presents it as a single funeral procession for its demise. The next two lines put into parallel "suffering rises" and "wails for mercy rise," playing on the term "rise" to mean both increasing and lifting through the air toward the gods. The chorus then describes their own laments and the role they play in the cacophony of Thebes: a mix of "wails for mercy," "wild hymn," and "cries of mourning." Thus we have the combination of horror and entreaties for aid, being described by the very public performing the acts themselves. Before, the chorus's request for help was addressed to a general divine realm, but they ask here specifically for "the Healer." This speaks to the greek belief that specific gods played particular roles on earth and in heaven—and that each was bestowed with a set of properties to be called upon when needed. The references to "kindness in your eyes" also bears noticing considering the importance of vision throughout the play. Indeed, the salvation of Thebes will come through "eyes"—yet its radiance will be the cruelty that gouges out Oedipus's eyes in order to absolve the city of its crime.

If ever, once in the past, you stopped some ruin launched against our walls you hurled the flame of pain far, far from Thebes—you gods, come now, come down once more!

Oedipus Rex The chorus enters suddenly into the play's action. They beg the Gods to come to aid the city as they have before. A chorus's role is essential in every Greek tragedy: they function as an analog for the audience within the play—a general public that watches the events unfolding and helps articulate their significance to the actual audience. Here, the chorus has a specific identity: members of the city of Thebes who specifically wish for their city to be saved. As a result, they are not entirely omniscient—they haven't yet heard Creon's news from the oracle, in this case—but will gain information as it is explained to the public of Thebes. Even as the priests ask Oedipus, a mortal man, for help, the chorus members turn their pleas to higher powers, directly imploring the gods to "come now, come down" to their aid. This language showcases the Greek belief that the gods intervened directly in human affairs and could take on corporeal bodies to do so. Intriguingly, the chorus's plea makes references to past interventions with the lines "if ever, once in the past" and "once more!" These references imply that the gods have directly changed the fate of Thebes before—and that those past events signify that they have a continued obligation to do so. Thus the chorus's speech points to the intimate relationship between divine and mortal realms, which in turn means an intimate relationship between fate (the will of the gods) and free will (the will of humans).

Did you rise to the crisis? Not a word, you and your birds, your gods—nothing. No, but I came by, Oedipus the ignorant, I stopped the Sphinx! With no help from the birds, the flight of my own intelligence hit the mark.

Oedipus Rex Tiresias and Oedipus begin to fight, each insulting the other about the way they have been negligent of Thebes. Here, Oedipus reprimands Tiresias for not having intervened when Thebes was previously crippled by the Sphinx. Oedipus juxtaposes the roles of divine and human intervention. He aligns Tiresias with "your birds, your gods"—the first which stands for auguries (observing the actions of birds to predict the future), the second which explicitly links him to the divine. But Oedipus claims "nothing" came from this spiritual realm, whereas it was "Oedipus the ignorant" who was successful. His ignorance is set in contrast with the "help from the birds"—the foresight permitted by reading divine signs—and Oedipus thus implies that his "own intelligence" has merit even if it is not derived from divine prophecy. He was able to solve the riddle of the Sphinx through his own mental acuity alone, without the aid of the gods. Oedipus's statement is actually quite blasphemous, for it elevates his human intelligence above divine providence. Again, he displays himself to be deeply proud, assuming that his previous accomplishments have given him a status that cannot be challenged by others, even the gods. This fault speaks, itself, to the limits of Oedipus's "intelligence," for while he may be shrewd and clever, he has no wisdom when dealing with others and thus cannot prevent his fate.

Just send me home. You bear your burdens, I'll bear mine. It's better that way, please believe me.

Oedipus Rex Tiresias comes to Oedipus to offer counsel on the plague. But when asked to share his wisdom, Tiresias asks to be allowed to depart without any comment. As with the earlier scene, Oedipus here seems to bring his fate upon himself. By pressing Tiresias to tell him about the murderer of Laius, Oedipus is actively pursuing his own demise. Sophocles thus presents a division between the information held by prophets like Tiresias and its assimilation into the populace: his foresight seems to only come true when it is at last vocalized to Oedipus—for at that point it will become self-fulfilling prophecy. The text also implicitly cautions against the hubris of pursuing knowledge beyond one's range of understanding, for Oedipus's tragic action is not so much the murder itself but rather his insistent wish to know the truth instead of just to "bear your burdens" in silence. Furthermore, Tiresias seems capable of resisting this fate. He knows Oedipus's true identity, but actively resists telling him of it—he acts, not like an oracle who would simply freely convey information. Sophocles thus makes Tiresias a character halfway between the divine and mortal realms: he has access to content beyond normal humans, but he is still privy to the human emotions of pity and anger—which dictate whether he will reveal what he has foreseen.

If you are the man he says you are, believe me you were born for pain.

Oedipus Rex When interrogated by Oedipus, the shepherd at first resists his attempts to procure information. Yet eventually the shepherd gives in, condemning Oedipus to his terrifying fate. These lines articulate an important new position on the role of fate in Oedipus's destiny. Whereas other characters or critics may believe the tragic action occurred due to a mixture of destiny and human folly, the shepherd clearly attributes what will occur solely to a pre-determined narrative. That Oedipus was "born for pain" implies that his life's torment began precisely at the moment he came into the world: his later actions thus would only fulfill this pre- designed path, rather than carving a new one. This point builds on Jocasta's claim that his name is "man of agony"—which makes his identity similarly equivalent to pain—and reiterates the power of the gods and fate to control each moment in human affairs. Thus Sophocles moves at this crucial moment in the tragedy to highlight the role of destiny over human action.

As soon as there are many events in his life that give him trouble and disturb his peace of mind, he sets himself free. And this privilege is his, not only when the crisis is upon him, but as soon as Fortune seems to be playing him false; then he looks about carefully and sees whether he ought, or ought not, to end his life on that account.

On Suicide 70

Even so, on this journey where time flies with the greatest speed, we put below the horizon first our boyhood and then our youth, and then the space which lies between young manhood and middle age and borders on both, and next, the best years of old age itself. Last of all, we begin to sight the general bourne of the race of man.

On Suicide 70

Fools that we are, we believe this bourne to be a dangerous reef; but it is the harbour, where we must some day put in, which we may never refuse to enter; and if a man has reached this harbour in his early years, he has no more right to complain than a sailor who has made a quick voyage. For some sailors, as you know, are tricked and held back by sluggish winds, and grow weary and sick of the slow-moving calm; while others are carried quickly home by steady gales.

On Suicide 70

He holds that it makes no difference to him whether his taking-off be natural or self-inflicted, whether it comes later or earlier. He does not regard it with fear, as if it were a great loss; for no man can lose very much when but a driblet remains.

On Suicide 70

No general statement can be made, therefore, with regard to the question whether, when a power beyond our control threatens us with death, we should anticipate death, or await it. For there are many arguments to pull us in either direction.

On Suicide 70

Shall I reflect that Fortune has all power over one who lives, rather than reflect that she has no power over one who knows how to die?

On Suicide 70

Socrates might have ended his life by fasting; he might have died by starvation rather than by poison. But instead of this he spent thirty days in prison awaiting death, not with the idea "everything may happen," or "so long an interval has room for many a hope" but in order that he might show himself submissive to the laws[6] and make the last moments of Socrates an edification to his friends. What would have been more foolish than to scorn death, and yet fear poison?

On Suicide 70

The executioner is upon you; wait for him. Why anticipate him? Why assume the management of a cruel task that belongs to another? Do you grudge your executioner his privilege, or do you merely relieve him of his task?

On Suicide 70

You have often been cupped in order to relieve headaches. You have had veins cut for the purpose of reducing your weight. If you would pierce your heart, a gaping wound is not necessary - a lancet will open the way to that great freedom, and tranquillity can be purchased at the cost of a pin-prick.

On Suicide 70

"But," says one, "I wish to live, for I am engaged in many honourable pursuits. I am loth to leave life's duties, which I am fulfilling with loyalty and zeal." Surely you are aware that dying is also one of life's duties? You are deserting no duty; for there is no definite number established which you are bound to complete.

On Suicide 77

Even if I were not an old man, I could not have helped feeling pleasure at this; but as it is, my pleasure was far greater. For, however small my possessions might be, I should still have left over more travelling-money than journey to travel, especially since this journey upon which we have set out is one which need not be followed to the end.

On Suicide 77

For they alone may keep spread their topsails, which all ships use when out at sea, because nothing sends a ship along so well as its upper canvas; that is where most of the speed is obtained. So when the breeze has stiffened and becomes stronger than is comfortable, they set their yards lower; for the wind has less force near the surface of the water. Accordingly, when they have made Capreae and the headland whence all other vessels are bidden to be content with the mainsail, and the topsail stands out conspicuously on the "Alexandrian" mail-boats.

On Suicide 77

Gaius Caesar was passing along the Via Latina, when a man stepped out from the ranks of the prisoners, his grey beard hanging down even to his breast, and begged to be put to death. "What!" said Caesar, "are you alive now?"

On Suicide 77

It would be a kindly act to distribute gifts to those who had attended him throughout his whole life, when that life was finished, just as, when a banquet is finished, the remaining portion is divided among the attendants who stand about the table. Marcellinus was of a compliant and generous disposition, even when it was a question of his own property; so he distributed little sums among his sorrowing slaves, and comforted them besides.

On Suicide 77

So near at hand is freedom, and is anyone still a slave? Would you not rather have your own son die thus than reach old age by weakly yielding? Why therefore are you distressed, when even a boy can die so bravely? Suppose that you refuse to follow him; you will be led. Take into your own control that which is now under the control of another. Will you not borrow that boy's courage, and say: "I am no slave!"? Unhappy fellow, you are a slave to men, you are a slave to your business, you are a slave to life. For life, if courage to die be lacking, is slavery.

On Suicide 77

Then a tub was brought in; he lay in it for a long time, and, as the hot water was continually poured over him, he gradually passed away, not without a feeling of pleasure, as he himself remarked, - such a feeling as a slow dissolution is wont to give. Those of us who have ever fainted know from experience what this feeling is.

On Suicide 77

While everybody was bustling about and hurrying to the water-front, I felt great pleasure in my laziness, because, although I was soon to receive letters from my friends, I was in no hurry to know how my affairs were progressing abroad, or what news the letters were bringing; for some time now I have had no losses, nor gains either.

On Suicide 77

You are afraid of death; but how can you scorn it in the midst of a mushroom supper? You wish to live; well, do you know how lo live? You are afraid to die. But come now: is this life of yours anything but death?

On Suicide 77

You know the taste of wine and cordials. It makes no difference whether a hundred or a thousand measures pass through your bladder; you are nothing but a wine-strainer. You are a connoisseur in the flavour of the oyster and of the mullet; your luxury has not left you anything untasted for the years that are to come; and yet these are the things from which you are torn away unwillingly. What else is there which you would regret to have taken from you? Friends? But who can be a friend to you? Country? What? Do you think enough of your country to be late to dinner? The light of the sun? You would extinguish it, if you could; for what have you ever done that was fit to be seen in the light?

On Suicide 77

And I am particularly amazed by this feature of the philosophers' argument, that people who admit their incapacity for steering in calm weather - because they have never learned how or wanted to know - these same people offer to take the helm in the greatest storms. ... For my own part, even if it were true that a philosopher should not willingly lower himself to take part in civic affairs, but should not refuse to do so under the compulsion of a crisis, still I would think that the knowledge of public administration is some- thing that philosophers should by no means neglect, because they ought to prepare in advance whatever they might need, even if they do not know whether they actually will.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

For just as the excessive power of the aristocracy causes their fall, so too liberty itself makes slaves out of this excessively free populace. Anything that is too successful - in weather, or harvests, or human bodies - generally turns into its opposite, and that is particularly true of commonwealths: extreme liberty, both of the people at large and of particular individuals, results in extreme slavery. From this pure liberty arises a tyrant, the most unjust and harshest form of slavery. For from this unruly, or rather monstrous, populace some leader is usually chosen against those aristocrats who have already been beaten down and driven from their place: someone bold, corrupt, vigorous in attacking people who have often served the commonwealth well; someone who buys the people's good will using others' property as well as his own.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

For my own part, just as I think ''great and powerful cities'' (as Ennius calls them) better than villages and forts, so too I think that the men who lead these cities by their counsel and authority should be considered far wiser than philosophers who have no experience at all of public life. We are strongly drawn to try to increase the resources of the human race, and we are eager to make human life safer and better by our plans and efforts; it is the spur of nature herself that goads us on to this pleasure.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

Furthermore, virtue is not some kind of knowledge to be possessed without using it: even if the intellectual possession of knowledge can be maintained without use, virtue consists entirely in its employment; moreover, its most important employment is the governance of states and the accomplishment in deeds rather than words of the things that philosophers talk about in their corners.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

Furthermore, we should pay no attention at all to the excuses people advance in order more easily to enjoy their ease. They say that for the most part those who are active in public life are completely worthless men: to be paired with them is low, and to fight against them, especially when the mob is stirred up, is wretched and dangerous. Therefore, they say, a wise man should not take the reins when he cannot curb the insane and uncontrollable impulses of the crowd, nor should a free man endure blows or await injuries unendurable to a wise man in struggling with foul and disgusting opponents - as if for good and brave men of great spirit there could be any more suitable reason for taking part in public life than not to be subject to wicked men or allow them to ravage the common- wealth while they themselves are incapable of bringing aid, even if they should wish to.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

I think that the saying of Plato (or whoever else said it) is elegant: when a storm drove him from the sea to an unknown land on a deserted shore, when his companions were afraid because of their ignorance of the place, they say that he noticed that some geometrical shapes were drawn in the sand; when he saw them, he exclaimed that they should be of good spirits: he saw human traces. He clearly inferred that not from his observation of sown fields, but from the signs of learning.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

Peace and tranquillity are like a ship or a minor illness: you can be undisciplined when there is no danger. But when the sea gets rough or the disease gets worse, the sailor or the sick man calls for one person's help. So too, at home and in peace, our people give orders to the magistrates themselves - they threaten, refuse to obey, ask for one magistrate's help against another, and appeal to the people; but in war they obey their leaders as they would a king: safety matters more than one's own desires.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

They list the familiar examples of this among the Greeks: Miltiades, the conqueror of the Persians, before the honorable wounds that he received in his great victory had healed, gave up in the chains placed on him by his fellow citizens the life that had survived the enemy's weapons; Themistocles was driven in fear from the country he had freed and took refuge not in the harbors of Greece that he had saved but in the barbarian lands which he had defeated. There is no shortage of examples of the fickleness of the Athenians and their cruelty towards their greatest citizens.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

They thought that life, honor, and glory were given to them by the justice of the king. The same goodwill would have lasted among their descendants, if the kings had retained the same character; but you see that because of the injustice of one of them that entire form of the commonwealth was destroyed.

On the Commonwealth Book 1

Who would think anyone wealthier than the man who lacks nothing of what nature requires, or more powerful than the man who achieves all that he seeks, or more blessed than the man who is freed from all mental disturbance, or of more secure good fortune than the man who possesses, as they say, only what he can carry with him out of a shipwreck? What power, what office, what kingdom can be grander than to look down on all things human and to think of them as less important than wisdom, and to turn over in his mind nothing except what is eternal and divine?

On the Commonwealth Book 1

This structure has, in the first place, a certain degree of equality, which free people cannot do without for very long; it also has solidity, in that those primary forms are easily turned into the opposite vices, so that a master arises in place of a king, a faction in place of aristocracy, a confused mob in place of the people; and these types themselves are often replaced by new ones.

On the Commonwealth Book 1 Idea of a mixed constitution (one supreme position + aristocracy + elected positions)

But this new kind of globe included the motions of the sun and moon and the five stars that are known as ''planets'' or ''wandering,'' something that could not be achieved in the solid globe. The discovery of Archimedes was all the more remarkable, because he had discovered how a single turning action could preserve these unequal orbits with their different speeds. When Galus moved this globe, the moon followed the sun by as many revolutions of the bronze globe as it does by days in the sky itself; the result was that the same eclipse of the sun occurred on the globe, and the moon then fell into the space which was in the shadow of the earth...

On the Commonwealth Book 1 Importance of astronomy

During the great war which the Athenians and Spartans waged so bitterly against one another, Pericles, the leading man of his state in authority, eloquence, and judgment, is said to have taught his fellow citizens something similar: when there was a sudden darkness and the sun disappeared, the Athenians were seized by intense fear, and he taught them what he had learned from his teacher Anaxagoras, that such things necessarily take place at specific times when the whole moon passes below the disk of the sun; and that while it does not happen at every new moon, it can only happen at the time of the new moon. In giving a scientific lecture, he freed the people from fear: at that time this was a new and unknown explanation, that the sun is eclipsed by the interposition of the moon.

On the Commonwealth Book 1 Practical uses of astronomy

But the alteration of the monarchic form is the first and the most certain: when a king begins to be unjust, the form is immediately destroyed, and that same person is a tyrant, the worst form, but closest to the best. If the aristocracy gets rid of him (which generally happens), the commonwealth has the second of the three forms; it is almost monarchic, that is, a senatorial council of leaders taking good care of the people. If the people themselves kill or expel the tyrant, the government is reasonably restrained, so long as it is intelligent and perceptive: they rejoice in their accomplishment, and want to protect the commonwealth that they have set up. But when either the people bring force to bear on a just king and deprive him of his throne or even (as happens more frequently) have tasted the blood of the aristocracy and subordinated the entire commonwealth to their own desires, do not make the mistake of thinking that any huge ocean or fire is harder to calm than the violence of a mob out of control.

On the Commonwealth Book 1 The corruptibility of constitutions - all three can lead to tyranny

In playing the lyre or the flute, and of course in choral singing, a degree of harmony must be maintained among the different sounds, and if it is altered or discordant a trained ear cannot endure it; and this harmony, through the regulation of very different voices, is made pleasing and concordant. So too the state, through the reasoned balance of the highest and the lowest and the intervening orders, is harmonious in the concord of very different people. What musicians call harmony with regard to song is concord in the state, the tightest and the best bond of safety in every republic; and that concord can never exist without justice.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

Maritime cities are also subject to corruption and alteration of character. They are exposed to new languages and customs; not only foreign goods are imported, but foreign customs as well, so that nothing of ancestral institutions can remain unaltered. People who live in those cities do not stick to their own homes; they are drawn far from home by eager hopes and expectations, and even when they remain physically, in their minds they are wandering in exile. Nothing did more to weaken gradually, and ultimately to destroy, Carthage and Corinth than this wandering and dissipation of their citizens: through the desire for trade and travel they abandoned the cultivation of fields and of military skill.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

The centuries of the knights, together with the ''six voting groups'' and the first class - plus 1 century given to the carpenters because of their great utility to the city - make up 89 centuries; if only 8 of the remaining 104 centuries join them, then a voting majority of the people is achieved, and the much greater multitude in the other 96 centuries is neither excluded from voting, which would be arrogant, nor excessively powerful, which would be dangerous.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

Then after separating this large number of the knights from the people at large, he divided the rest into five classes, separating the older from the younger, and he so organized them that the votes were in the control of the wealthy rather than the majority; he made certain that the greatest number did not have the greatest power.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

With exceptional foresight he realized that coastal positions are not the most advantageous for cities founded in the expectation of long life and power. In the first place, maritime cities are exposed to dangers that are both multiple and unexpected. If a city is surrounded by land, there are many advance indications of enemies' arrival - almost audible sounds of crashing - not only when they are anticipated but even when they are unexpected: no enemy can suddenly appear by land without our knowing not only that he is there but who he is and where he is from. But an enemy that comes by ship across the sea can arrive before anyone can suspect that he is coming; and when he does come he does not display who he is or where he is from or even what he wants; there is no sign to indicate whether he is friend or foe.

On the Commonwealth Book 2

He placed five priests chosen from the aristocracy in charge of religious rituals, and by the promulgation of laws (of which we have documentary evidence) he softened through religious ceremonies minds that were inflamed with the habit and the desire for making war.

On the Commonwealth Book 2 Numa's deeds

Could anything display divine ability more than Romulus' embrace of the benefits of the coast while avoiding its vices by placing his city on the bank of a large river that flows strongly into the sea throughout the year? In that way, the city could import essentials by sea and export its surplus produce; it could also use the river to receive the necessities of civilized life not only from the sea but carried downriver from inland. Romulus therefore seems to me to have divined that this city would someday be the home and center of the greatest empire; for a city located in any other part of Italy would not so easily have exercised so much power.

On the Commonwealth Book 2 Romulus

'In fact, even if the offspring of the men to come should wish to pass on to their descendants the praise of each one of us that they have received from their parents, it is still true that because of the floods and fires that necessarily destroy the earth at appointed times we cannot achieve long-lasting glory, far less eternal. And what difference does it make if future generations speak of you if none of those in previous generations did so? They outnumber us, and they were clearly better men.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

'Keep at it; and know this: it is not you that is mortal but your body. You are not what your physical shape reveals, but each person is his mind, not the body that a finger can point at. Know then that you are a god, as surely as a god is someone who is alert, who feels, who remembers, who looks ahead, who rules and guides and moves the body of which he is in command just as that leading god does for the universe. And just as the eternal god moves the universe, which is partly mortal, so too does the eternal soul move the fragile body.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

'Thus, even if you lose hope of returning to this place, where all things exist for great and outstanding men, still - what is that human glory really worth which can last scarcely a fraction of a single year? Therefore look on high if you wish; contemplate this dwelling and eternal home; and do not give yourself to the words of the mob, and do not place your hopes in human rewards: virtue itself by its own allurements should draw you towards true honor. Let others worry about what they say about you - and they will say things in any case. But everything they say is bounded by the narrow limits of the area, as you see, and it is never eternal about anyone, and it is overwhelmed by the deaths of men and extinguished by the forgetfulness of future generations.'

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

And since it is clear that what is moved by itself is eternal, who could deny that the soul has such a nature? Whatever is moved by an external force is inanimate; but whatever is animate is stirred by its own internal motion. That is the special nature and force of the soul. And if it is the one thing of all which moves itself, then it is certainly not born and is therefore eternal. Use your soul in the best activities! And the best concerns are those that involve the safety of the fatherland; the soul which is aroused and exercised by them will fly more swiftly to this, its dwelling and home.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

But those eight orbits, of which two have the same pitch, create seven sounds distinguished by their intervals; and that number is really at the heart of the matter. Learned men who have imitated it with stringed instruments and song have opened for themselves their return to this place, just like others who have used outstanding intelligence to cultivate divine studies in their human lives. ... The sound made by the rapid revolution of the universe is so great that human ears cannot grasp it, just as you are unable to look directly into the Sun, because your sight and sense are overcome by its rays.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

I wonder how long your mind will be fixed on the ground? Don't you see the precinct into which you have come? Everything is linked, you see, in nine circles or rather spheres. One of them, the outer one, is the sphere of the heavens which embraces all the rest; it is the highest god himself protecting and limiting the rest, and in it are fixed the eternal revolving courses of the stars. Within that are seven which revolve in the opposite direction from the heavens.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

The souls of men who have surrendered themselves to the pleasures of the body and have made themselves into the servants of those pleasures, and at the urging of desires that are directed by pleasure have broken the laws of gods and men - those souls, when they have departed from the body, circle around the earth and only after having been harried for many generations do they return to this place.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

Then we went to bed; and as I was exhausted from the trip and from staying awake so late, I was gripped by a deeper sleep than usual. At this point - and I believe that it was the result of what we had said: our thoughts and words often bring forth in sleep something like Ennius' report of Homer, about whom he obviously used to think and speak a great deal when he was awake - Africanus showed himself to me in the appearance which I knew better from his portrait than from having seen him.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

There were stars which we never see from this place, and their size was such as we have never suspected; the smallest one was the one furthest from the heavens and closest to earth and shone with borrowed light. The globes of the stars easily surpassed the size of the earth, and earth itself now seemed so small to me that I was ashamed of our empire, which touches only a little speck of it.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

Unless the god, whose precinct is all that you behold, frees you from the guardianship of your body, you have no access to this place. Men are created under these terms, that they are to look after that globe which you see in the middle of this precinct, which is called earth; and they are given a soul from those eternal fires which you call constellations and stars, which are spherical globes endowed with divine minds and accomplish their rotations and revolutions with amazing speed. And so, both you and all pious people must keep your soul in the guardianship of the body, and you must not depart from human life without the order of him who gave you your soul: you must not seem to run away from the human duty assigned by the god.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

You are coming to besiege it now as little more than a simple soldier, but within two years you will destroy it as consul, and you will receive on your own account the name which you have already inherited from me.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

You must always look at these heavenly bodies and scorn what is human. What fame can you achieve in what men say, or what glory can you achieve that is worth seeking? You see that humans inhabit small and scattered portions of the earth, and that huge emptiness separates the blotches of human habitation. The people who inhabit the earth are not only so broken up that nothing can pass from one group of them to another, but some of them live across from you, others below you, and some directly opposite you on the earth; and it is clear that you can expect no glory among them.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

You should be like your grandfather here and like me your father in cultivating justice and piety; it is important in relation to your parents and family, but most important in relation to your fatherland. That way of life is the way to the heavens and to this gathering of those who have ceased to live and after having been released from the body now inhabit the place you see'' (it was a bright circle shining among the stars with a most radiant whiteness), which you have learned from the Greeks to name the Milky Way.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio

These people are alive; they have escaped from the chains of the body as if from a prison, and what is called life among you is in fact death.

On the Commonwealth Book 6 Dream of Scipio Afterlife of statesmen, immortality of soul (Link to ideas of Seneca BUT Cicero thinks we cannot end our lives until god determines it is time to do so; contrast to Lucretius who thinks the soul dies when the body dies)

Such heinous acts could superstition prompt.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, line 101; page 6) Lucretius is discussing a central point of his poem: that ignorance leads to superstition, and superstition leads to suffering. He relays the myth of Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks in the Trojan War, who believed that he had to sacrifice his own daughter so that the gods would bless his journey. According to Lucretius, it was a needless murder, brought about by ignorance of the nature of the gods.

The man who avoids love does not deprive himself of the joys of Venus, but rather chooses those that involve no penalty.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book IV, lines 1074-1075; page 129) The Epicurean lifestyle, seeking pleasure and avoiding pain, has a difficult time dealing with sex. On the one hand, it brings short-term pleasure, but on the other hand, sexual relationships can cause strife and heartbreak. Lucretius advises pursuing casual relationships, so that one can enjoy "the joys of Venus" without the risk of emotional pain. Ultimately, Lucretius prefers that one avoid sex altogether if one can, since even the pleasure of it is fleeting and unsatisfying.

The first stage of this study will have this rule as its basis: nothing ever springs miraculously out of nothing.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, line 150; page 7) This is one of the fundamental tenets of the Epicurean model of the universe, and it is the first principle that Lucretius teaches us in this work. Atoms, the building blocks of matter, cannot be created out of thin air. A set number of atoms exist in the universe now, and the same number have always existed. This is one of the arguments for the immortality of atoms; since they cannot be born, they cannot die.

Mother of Aeneas' people, delight of human being and the gods, Venus, power of life, it is you who beneath the sky's sliding stars inspirit the ship- bearing sea, inspirit the productive land. To you every kind of living creature owes its conception and first glimpse of the sun's light.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 1-4; page 2) These are the opening lines of the work. Lucretius is using a device that was extremely common in ancient poetry: the invoking of a deity. When invoking a god or goddess, the poet would generally praise them and their particular powers, and then ask the deity to help them with their poem. In this case, Lucretius praises Venus (goddess of love, and mother of the mythical Trojan hero Aeneas, who settled in Italy) as the one who brings life and light to the world. Later in Book I, we learn that Lucretius doesn't actually believe that the gods are involved in mortal affairs; rather than actually praying to the goddess, Lucretius is perhaps using this device to establish some of the work's themes.

This terrifying darkness that enshrouds the mind must be dispelled not by the sun's rays and the dazzling darts of day, but by study of the superficial aspect and underlying principle of nature.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 146-148; page 7) Lucretius repeats this sentiment several times throughout the work. He uses darkness and light as metaphors for ignorance and knowledge, and he presents Epicurean philosophy as the light that illuminates that darkness. The stakes, as laid out by Lucretius, are fairly high: without knowledge of nature to guide the way, people are susceptible to the folly of superstition.

The complement of the foregoing doctrine [that nothing ever springs from nothing] is the principle that, although nature resolves everything into its constituent particles, she never annihilates anything.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 215-218; page 9) This is the second basic rule of the Epicurean model, and it goes hand-in- hand with the previous one. Atoms cannot be destroyed; therefore, they are immortal. Lucretius does accept that materials can resolve into their constituent particles, through evaporation or disintegration. However, when this happens, the constituent particles are released into the world and can form the building blocks for new objects.

For every change that involves a thing outstepping its own limits means the instantaneous death of what previously existed.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 670-671; page 21) It is central to Epicurean philosophy that everything in the universe has limits; that is, everything is defined in some way, and is subject to rules. Breaking or changing those rules means changing the essential nature of the object in question. This means that only mortal things can change, and immortal things such as atoms must remain the same forever.

For the same atoms constitute sky, sea, lands, rivers, and sun; the same compose crops, trees, and animals; only they differ in their combinations and movements. Similarly, throughout these verses of mine you see many letters common to many words [...] Such is the power letters derive from mere alteration of order.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 820-827; page 25) Lucretius teaches that atoms come in different shapes and sizes, and that they construct matter by combining in different arrangements. Therefore, there is no one "fire" atom, but rather a set of atoms that, in the correct arrangement, create fire. Lucretius frequently uses letters of the alphabet as an analogy for this phenomenon, since letters possess no meaning on their own, but in combination with other letters, they can take on an infinite number of possible meanings.

Doctors who try to give children foul-tasting wormwood first coat the rim of the cup with the sweet juice of golden honey; their intention is that the children [...] will be tricked into applying their lips to the cup and at the same time will drain the bitter draught of wormwood [...] I have a similar intention now: since this philosophy of ours often appears somewhat off-putting to those who have not experienced it [...] I have preferred to expound it to you in harmonious Pierian poetry and, so to speak, coat it with the sweet honey of the Muses.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book I, lines 936-948; pages 28-29) Lucretius employs this analogy several times throughout this work. Recognizing that this is not the sort of subject matter that would hold a reader's attention, he has chosen to write in the genre of epic poetry in order to make the reading experience more pleasant. He often breaks up lengthy scientific arguments with poetic passages for this reason. "Pierian" poetry is poetry that is sacred to the Muses, the goddesses of creative inspiration; they are associated with the Pierian Spring in Greece.

Death does not destroy things so completely that it annihilates the constituent elements: it merely dissolves their union.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book II, lines 1003- 1005; page 60) Here, Lucretius is explaining the life cycle on Earth. Earlier in Book II, he derides the practice of worshipping our planet as the Great Mother, because he finds religion to be foolish. However, there is an element of accuracy to that cult, because the Earth really does nurture and beget all life on Earth. The particles within the Earth combine to form plants, animals, and humans, and, in turn, everything that has died returns its constituent particles into the Earth. This life cycle earns our planet the title of "mother," in Lucretius' eyes.

To think that you should fail to see that nature importunately demands only that the body may be rid of pain, and that the mind, divorced from anxiety and fear, may enjoy a feeling of contentment!

On the Nature of the Universe (Book II, lines 16-19; pages 35- 36) As he introduces Book II of his work, Lucretius laments that so many people waste their time on meaningless activities inspired by greed and ambition. The Epicurean way of life is based on avoiding pain and seeking pleasure. This means avoiding conflict and competition with others, since such activities rarely lead to satisfaction. It also means practicing moderation; once greed takes hold, you can never be satisfied, no matter how much you obtain.

For even if I had no knowledge of the primary elements of things, I would venture to deduce from the actual behavior of the sky, and from many other facts, evidence and proof that the world was by no means created for us by divine agency: it is marked by such serious flaws.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book II, lines 178-182; page 40) An element of Epicurean theology is that not only do the gods exist separately from the mortal plane, but they also had no hand in the creation of the world. Instead, Lucretius tells us, the Earth, the celestial bodies, and the conditions for life, all came about by chance, through the random movement of atoms over an infinite amount of time. He points to flaws in our planet, such as inhospitable deserts, as evidence that the world was not created for us.

For it is inherent in the very nature of the gods that they should enjoy immortal life in perfect peace, far removed and separated from our world; free from all distress, free from peril, fully self-sufficient, independent of us, they are not influenced by worthy conduct nor touched by anger.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book II, lines 647-651; page 51) This passage describes the existence of the gods, in a realm entirely separate from the mortal plane. Significantly, the gods enjoy the ideal Epicurean life, and experience no pain of any sort. The gods, then, can serve as a model for mortals to strive toward. It is interesting, too, that a key element of the gods' peace is that they have nothing to do with mortal affairs; mortals, after all, do not live Epicurean lives, and are therefore apt to cause distress.

Next let me assure you that all the punishments that tradition locates in the abysm of Acheron actually exist in our life.

On the Nature of the Universe (Book III, line 979; page 94) By "the abysm of Acheron," Lucretius means the Underworld; the place where all souls go after they die, according to Greek and Roman thought. Lucretius derides humanity for acting foolishly out of fear of punishment in the afterlife, when in fact we suffer our punishments here on Earth. He gives the example of ambitious men who push themselves to obtain more and more but can never be satisfied. Criminals, too, suffer the tortures that we associate with the Underworld, but in life.

Thus far I have spoken on the authority of the Egyptians and their priests. They declare that from their first king to this last mentioned monarch, the priest of Vulcan, was a period of three hundred and forty-one generations; such, at least, they say, was the number both of their kings, and of their high-priests, during this interval. Now three hundred generations of men make ten thousand years, three generations filling up the century; and the remaining forty-one generations make thirteen hundred and forty years.

Herodetus

When the Athenians heard what the Eginetans had done, believing that it was from enmity to themselves that they had given consent, and that the Eginetans intended to join the Persian in his attack upon Athens, they straightway took the matter in hand.

Herodetus

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war.

New Testament (Revelation)

Then I saw "a new heaven and a new earth," for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea.

New Testament (Revelation)

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

New Testament (Romans)

For what has become cold instead of hot, or dark instead of pale, or good instead of bad, has changed (has altered); similarly in other cases too it is by itself undergoing change that each thing is able to receive contraries.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

And now the youth was to enter the line of battle with his lord, his first time to be tested as a fighter. His spirit did not break and the ancestral blade would keep its edge, as the dragon discovered as soon as they came together in the combat.

Beowulf Courage, tradition (2625-2630) The battle with the dragon is Beowulf's last courageous act, but for Wiglaf, it is only the first test of his courage. Unlike the other Geat warriors, who fled in fear when Beowulf needed them most, Wiglaf will pass this test

The cup was carried to him, kind words spoken in welcome and a wealth of wrought gold graciously bestowed: two arm bangles, a mail-shirt and rings, and the most resplendent torque of gold I ever heard tell of anywhere on earth or under heaven.

Beowulf Wealth (1191-1196) The exchanges of wealth between different kings and warriors can become extremely complex. In this passage, Beowulf is given gold, armor, and other rewards by King Hrothgar. After sailing home to Geatland, Beowulf presents some of these rewards to his own king, Hygelac. In return, Hygelac gives Beowulf another set of treasures from his own stockpile. Why so many different exchanges? It helps to solidify the alliances and relationships between all three warriors.

Adversity has the effect of drawing out strength and qualities of a man that would have laid dormant in its absence.

Herodetus

At the outset, we should say what music is and say how it is understood by those well-schooled in it. There are three kinds of music: the first is music of the spheres [mundana]; the second is music of the body [humana]; and the third that which is made by certain instruments [instrumentalis], for example, the kithara or the aulos and others which assist with songs.

Fundamentals of Music

For the whole earth is the tomb of famous men; not only are they commemorated by columns and inscriptions in their own country, but in foreign lands there dwells also an unwritten memorial of them, graven not on stone but in the hearts of men. Make them your examples, and, esteeming courage to be freedom and freedom to be happiness, do not weigh too nicely the perils of war.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Suddenly there came into our view to-day the "Alexandrian" ships, - I mean those which are usually sent ahead to announce the coming of the fleet; they are called "mail-boats." The Campanians are glad to see them; all the rabble of Puteoli stand on the docks, and can recognize the "Alexandrian" boats, no matter how great the crowd of vessels, by the very trim of their sails.

On Suicide 77

Jesus replied, "Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born again."

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.

New Testament (Corinthians)

No, we shall never mention the battles of the giants, or let them be embroidered on garments; and we shall be silent about the innumerable other quarrels of gods and heroes with their friends and relatives. If they would only believe us we would tell them that quarrelling is unholy, and that never up to this time has there been any quarrel between citizens.

The Republic Book 2 Censorship Socrates continues to discuss the importance of censoring artworks. He explains that excluding stories that recount negative behaviors will prevent Greek citizens from repeating those undesirable actions. This passage defines a causal relationship between the plot events of a story and the actions of those reading that story. For instance, reading of "plots and fightings of the gods" is presumed to encourage a similar "habit of quarreling" in future generations. From this point, Socrates extrapolates that "we shall never mention the battles of the giants": He relies on a logical link between reading material and personal action as a rational grounding for the necessity of censorship. Here, we have a sense of the way that he builds up his argument—based on a few moral principles that are extended to justify seemingly severe actions. The key claim here is that there is a correspondence between material read and actions performed—a link that continues to be featured today, in spirited debates about video game and movie censorship. Socrates is relying, notably, less on an argument of intrinsic morality and more on the effects of a given moral system. That is to say, he is not so much concerned with the inherent ethics of censorship and far more with the pragmatic benefits that censorship could bring to the ideal city. This is an important distinction, as Socrates' philosophy is generally not thought of in these utilitarian terms. Yet by bringing up the concrete dynamics of the ideal city, he transitions into a relatively pragmatic argumentative style.

The saddest aspect of life is that there is no one on earth whose happiness is such that he won't sometimes wish he were dead rather than alive.

Herodetus

Of things said without any combination, each signifies either substance or quantity or qualification or a relative or where or when or being-in-a-position or having or doing or being affected.

Aristotle's Theoretical Philosophy Categories

They stretched their beloved lord in his boat, laid out by the mast, amidships, the great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasures were piled upon him, and precious gear. I never heard before of a ship so well furbished with battle tackle, bladed weapons and coats of mail. The massed treasure was loaded on top of him: it would travel far on out into the ocean's sway.

Beowulf Wealth (34-42) One of the first scenes in Beowulf is the funeral of the Danish king Shield Sheafson. Buried at sea, the proof of Shield's greatness and his following among his people is the literal boatload of treasures sent out to sea with his body.

Very few things happen at the right time, and the rest do not happen at all. The conscientious historian will correct these defects.

Herodetus

If it had not been for the pernicious power of envy, men would not so have exalted vengeance above innocence and profit above justice... in these acts of revenge on others, men take it upon themselves to begin the process of repealing those general laws of humanity which are there to give a hope of salvation to all who are in distress.

History of the Peloponnesian War

In a democracy, someone who fails to get elected to office can always console himself with the thought that there was something not quite fair about it.

History of the Peloponnesian War

Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.

New Testament (Gospel according to Mark)

I pray that your partnership with us in the faith may be effective in deepening your understanding of every good thing we share for the sake of Christ.

New Testament (Philemon)

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and they with me.

New Testament (Revelation)

"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."

New Testament (Gospel according to John)

"But now my death is upon me. Let me at least not die without a struggle, inglorious, but do some big thing first, that men to come shall know of it. "

The Iliad Pride (22.303-305) Even when he feels death hanging over him, Hektor's sense of pride dictates his actions. Knowing that he did not die a shameful death is his final consolation.

Let me do it, for through you God wishes to restore the dignity of our family.

The Alexiad

It is now generally known that in all arts and disciplines, it is more honorable to be a person who works from true understanding, rather than manual labor. Thus it is far better to know how to do something, than it is to do something but not know how it is done. Indeed, physical activity is tantamount to slavery; reason, however, rules like a mistress. For unless the hand follows the will of reason, all will come to naught.

Fundamentals of Music

No one is so senseless as to choose of his own will war rather than peace, since in peace the sons bury their fathers, but in war the fathers bury their sons.

Herodetus