“Oh my son, my sorrow, why did I ever near you? All I bore was doom.”(I.491-3)
“No, don’t give up now. Range the Achaean ranks, with your winning words hold back each man you find—don’t let them haul their rolling ships to the sea!” (II.208-210)
He pulled on a soft tunic, linen, never worn, and over it threw his flaring battle cape, under his smooth feet he fastened supple sandals, across his shoulder slung his silver studded sword. Then he seized the royal scepter…its power can never die. (II. 52-4)
He dropped to a knee, let fly a shaft and a terrifying clash rang out from the great silver bow. First he went for the mules and circling dogs but then, launching a piercing shaft at the men themselves, he cut them down in droves--and the corpse-fires burned on, night and day, no end in sight (I. 55-60)
“The god's enraged because Agamemnon spurned his priest, he refused to free his daughter, he refused the ransom.” (I.110-11)
[The] Lord of the war cry led sixty ships. Amidst the [Lacedaemonian] ranks he marched, his own heart blazed the most to avenge the groans and shocks of war they’d borne for Helen. (II. 678-82)
“Stop this fighting, now. Don’t lay hand to sword. One day glittering gifts will lie before you, three times over to pay for all this outrage. “ (I. 248-50)
“You are both younger than I, in my time I struck up with better men than you…men like Pirithous, Dryas, that fine captain…they took to heart my councils” (I.303-04)
Now they might have won their journey home, fighting the will of fate, yes, of Hera had not alerted Athena. (II.181-183)
“Look, I will bow my head if that will satisfy you. That, I’ll remind you, that among the immortal gods is the strongest, truest sign I can give.” (I. 626-28)
“—Stop hoping to fathom my thoughts. You will find them a trial…Whatever I choose to plan apart from all the gods—probe and pry no more.” (I.656-60)
“What I really want is to keep my people safe, not see them dying. But fetch me another prize, and straight off too, else I alone … go without my honor. That would be a disgrace…look—my prize is snatched away.”(I. 130-141)
Here was the ugliest man who ever came to Troy. Bandy-legged, with one foot clubbed. (II. 250-51)
A mastermind like Zeus, still standing fast, He had not laid a hand on his black-benched hull. (II. 197-98)
Suddenly she rose from the churning surf like mist and settling down beside him she wept, stroked [him] gently, whispering his name, (I.424-426)
“Sing to me now, you Muses who hold the halls of Olympus! You are goddesses, you are everywhere, you know all things—all we hear is the distant ring of glory, we know nothing—who were the captains of Achaea? Who were the kings?” (II. 573-76)