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Quote by Homer

“…and they limp and halt, they’re all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side, can’t look you in the eyes, and always bent on duty, trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin. But Ruin is strong and swift—She outstrips them all by far, stealing a march, leaping over the whole wide earth to bring mankind to grief.”

Quote by Homer

Work

The Iliad

An ancient Greek epic, The Iliad, narrates the events of the Trojan War, focusing on the conflict between the Greeks and the Trojans, particularly the story of the warrior Achilles. more

Author

Homer
Homer

Homer, according to limited information, was an ancient Greek poet, credited with authorship of the epic poems 'The Iliad' and 'The Odyssey'. His biography is not well-documented, with the exact dates of his birth and death unknown. His works have had a profound impact on Western literature. more

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“Samo si mene imao, osim onih grobova kod kuće, sad više nikog nemamo ni ti ni ja, ti si mene izgubio prije nego ja tebe, ili možda nisi, možda si mislio da stojim pred ovom okovanom kapijom, kao što bi ti stajao zbog mene, možda si se do posljednjeg časa nadao da ću ti pomoći, i kamo sreće da si mi toliko vjerovao, ne bi te uhvatio strah od konačne samoće, kad nas svi napuste. A ako si sve znao, neka mi Bog pomogne.”

“Mr. Lisbon knew his parental and neighborly duty entailed putting the retainer in a Ziploc bag, calling the Kriegers, and telling them their expensive orthodontal device was in safe keeping. Acts like theses -- simple, humane, conscientious, forgiving -- held life together. Only a few days earlier he would have been able to perform them. But now he took the retainer and dropped it in the toiler. He pressed the handle. The retainer, jostled int he surge, disappeared down the porcelain throat, and, when waters abated, floated triumphantly, mockingly, out, Mr. Lisbon waited for the tank to refill and flushed again, but the same thing happened. The replica of the boy's mouth clung to the white slope.”

“It is poor solace to speak of the passing of time and grief," the master said. His quiet voice had gone somehow bleak, though Araene could not decide where in his unchanging tone the difference lay. "We do not wish our grief to fade, for it marks the love and honor in which we held our lost kinsmen. Nevertheless, permit me to assure you that while you may find peace a barren desert, yet eventually it may bloom.”

“In this way unwittingly the Widow-to-Be is assuring her husband’s death—his doom. Even as she believes she is behaving intelligently—“shrewdly” and “reasonably”—she is taking him to a teeming petri dish of lethal bacteria where within a week he will succumb to a virulent staph infection—a “hospital” infection acquired in the course of his treatment for pneumonia. Even as she is fantasizing that he will be home for dinner she is assuring that he will never return home. How unwitting, all Widows-to-Be who imagine that they are doing the right thing, in innocence and ignorance!”