And for this a thousand ships carried warriors from every part of Greece; Greeks and barbarians were slain, and cities made desolate.

Ah, Menippus, you never saw the living Helen; or you would have said with Homer, Well might they suffer grievous years of toil Who strove for such a prize. We look at withered flowers, whose dye is gone from them, and what can we call them but unlovely things? Yet in the hour of their bloom these unlovely things were things of beauty.

Strange, that the Greeks could not realize what it was for which they laboured; how short-lived, how soon to fade.

I have no time for moralizing. Choose your spot, where you will, and lie down. I must go to fetch new dead.