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"Wisdom comes through suffering.Trouble, with its memories of pain,Drips in our hearts as we try to sleep,So men against their willLearn to practice moderation.Favours come to us from gods."
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"But I believe above all that I wanted to build the palace of my memory, because my memory is my only homeland."
"My life is an open book; at least this photo album."
"When our consciousness has become a haven of illusions, our mind may have a hard time to fight the maze in our thinking. Only anchor points from our past and the innocence of our childhood might give back the core of what we are. ['Not without the past']"
"Memory may be pig-headed and want us to follow its whims along the blips and dips of our time line. ['All the words he always wanted to tell her.']"
"What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not."
"You're always making up stuff from the past, she said. "And the stuff you imagine is always better than the stuff that actually happened."
Explore more quotes by Aeschylus
"The moving light, rejoicing in its strength, Sped from the pyre of pine, and urged its way, In golden glory, like some strange new sun."
"The anvil of justice is planted firm, and fate who makes the sword does the forging in advance."
"Oh, the torment bred in the race, the grinding scream of deathand the stroke that hits the vein,the hemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,the curse no man can bear.But there is a cure in the house, and not outside it, no,not from others but from them,their bloody strife. We sing to you,dark gods beneath the earth.Now hear, you blissful powers underground - answer the call, send help.Bless the children, give them triumph now."
"If a man suffers ill, let it be without shame; for this is the only profit when we are dead. You will never say a good word about deeds that are evil and disgraceful."
"Search well and be wise, nor believe that self-willed pride will ever be better than good counsel."
"So in the Libyan fable it is told That once an eagle stricken with a dart Said when he saw the fashion of the shaft 'With our own feathers not by others' hands Are we now smitten.'"
"For Ares, lord of strife, Who doth the swaying scales of battle hold, War's money-changer, giving dust for gold, Sends back, to hearts that held them dear, Scant ash of warriors, wept with many a tear, Light to the hand, but heavy to the soul; Yea, fills the light urn full With what survived the flame- Death's dusty measure of a hero's frame!"
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