Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say
that we devise their misery. But they
themselves- in their depravity- design
grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.
Few sons are like their fathers--most are worse, few better.
For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother
A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time.
This was Argos, whom Odysseus had bred before setting out for Troy, but he had never had any enjoyment from him. In the old days he used to be taken out by the young men when they went hunting wild goats, or deer, or hares, but now that his master was gone he was lying neglected on the heaps of mule and cow dung that lay in front of the stable doors till the men should come and draw it away to manure the great close; and he was full of fleas. As soon as he saw Odysseus standing there, he dropped his ears and wagged his tail, but he could not get close up to his master. When Odysseus saw the dog on the other side of the yard, dashed a tear from his eyes without Eumaeus seeing it, and said: But Argos passed into the darkness of death, now that he had fulfilled his destiny of faith and seen his master once more after twenty years…
Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.