Quotes from Aeschylus

No mortal can complete his life unharmed and unpunished throughout--ah ah! Some troubles are here now, some will come later. Chorus, Aeschylus' Eumenides from the Oresteia

Obedience is mother to success and is wedded to safety.

You are dreaming, children, dreams dearer than gold, more blest than the Blest beyond the North Wind's raging. Dreams are easy, oh, but the double lash is striking home.

Marvels, the Earth breeds many marvels, terrible marvels overwhelm us. The heaving arms of the sea embrace and swarm with savage life. And high in the no man's land of night torches hang like swords.

No dreams, these torments, not to me, they're clear, real - the hounds of mother's hate.

Time refines all things that age with time.

Neither anarchy, nor tyranny, my people. Worship the Mean, I urge you, shore it up with reverence and never banish terror from the gates, not outright.

Now, by the altar, Over the victim Ripe for our ritual, Sing this enchantment: A song without music, A sword in the senses, A storm in the heart And a fire in the brain; A clamour of Furies To paralyse reason, A tune full of terror, A drought in the soul!

May good prevail, and justify my deed.

It is an easy thing for one whose foot is on the outside of calamity to give advice and to rebuke the sufferer.

Time in his aging overtakes all things alike.

Man shall learn from man's lot.

Todo es arduo, menos ser rey de dioses. Que, excepto Zeus, nadie en el mundo es libre.

If bright water you stain with mud, you nevermore will find it fit to drink.

Time shell be the limit of my suffering.

You have learned the lesson by experience.

But concern not thou thyself vainly with matters that are of no advantage.

He has opened the way of wisdom to mortals, by proclaiming as a sovereign law: By suffering comes understanding

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

Thy tongue sounds in accordance with thy form. (Vulcan)

Time in its aging course teaches all things.

What mortal else who hears shall claim he was born immune to the demon of harm?

If libations were proper to pour above the slain, this man deserved, more than deserved, such sacrament. He filled our cup with evil things unspeakable and now himself come home has drunk it to the dregs.

We are the old, dishonoured ones, the broken husks of men. Even then they cast us off, the rescue mission left us here to prop a child's strength upon a stick. What if the new sap rises in his chest? He has no soldiery in him, no more than we, and we are the aged past ageing, gloss of the leaf shrivelled, three legs at a time we falter on. Old men are children once again, a dream that sways and wavers into the hard light of day.