“For whoever of the deathless gods that hold the peaks of snowy Olympus pours a libation of her water is forsworn, lies breathless until a full year is completed, and never comes near to taste ambrosia and nectar, but lies spiritless and voiceless on a strewn bed: and a heavy trance overshadows him.” […]
“Then onto the flaming chariot Pallas set her feet and seized her spear – weighted, heavy, the massive shaft she wields to break the battle lines of heroes the mighty Father’s daughter storms against.” […]
” So when Zeus had raised up his might and seized his arms, thunder and lightning and lurid thunderbolt, he leaped form Olympus and struck him, and burned all the marvellous heads of the monster about him.” […]
But once Diomedes caught Aphrodite, stalking her through the onslaught, gallant Tydeus’ offspring rushed her, lunging out, thrusting his sharp spear at her soft, limp wrist and the brazen point went slashing through her […]
“But Zeus himself gave birth from his own head to bright-eyed (Athena) Tritogeneia, the awful, the strife-stirring, the host-leader, the unwearying, the queen, who delights in tumults and wars and battles.” […]
“Whichever contenders trample on this treaty first, spill their brains on the ground as this wine spills – theirs, their children’s too – their enemies rape their wives!” […]
“Now the savage work went on, Acheans and Trojans mauling each other there like wolves, leaping, hurtling into each other, man throttling man.” […]
“Wildly as two winter torrents raging down from the mountains, swirling into a valley, hurl their great waters together, flash floods from the wellsprings plunging down in a gorge and miles away in the hills a shepherd hears the thunder – so from the grinding armies broke the cries and crash of war.” […]
“Zeus bade famous Hephaestus make haste and mix earth with water and to put in it the voice and strength of human kind, and fashion a sweet, lovely maiden-shape, like to the immortal goddesses in face; and Athene to teach her needlework and the weaving of the varied web; and golden Aphrodite to shed grace upon her head and cruel longing and cares that weary the limbs.” […]
“Thoas speared him as he swerved and sprang away, the lancehead piercing his chest above the nipple plunged deep in his lung, and Thoas, running up, wrenched the heavy spear from the man’s chest, drew his blade, ripping him across the belly, took his life but he could not strip his armor.” […]
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