Short Is My Date, But

Thus Have The Gods Spun The Thread For Wretched Mortals: That They Live In Grief While They Themselves Are Without Cares; For Two Jars Stand On The Floor Of Zeus Of The Gifts Which He Gives, One Of Evils And Another Of Blessings.

Over The Wine-dark Sea.

Being Eaten By A Crocodile Is Just Like Going To Sleep...in A Giant Blender.

By Their Own Follies They Perished, The Fools.

Thou Wilt Lament Hereafter, When The Evil Shall Be Done And Shall Admit No Cure.