Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
My life is more to me than all the wealth of Ilius
His descent was like nightfall.
But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me.
…but there they lay, sprawled across the field, craved far more by the vultures than by wives.
Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?
Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade.
There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.
Strife, only a slight thing when she first rears her head but her head soon hits the sky as she strides across the earth.
Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!
A multitude of rulers is not a good thing. Let there be one ruler, one king.