Home > Work > Agamemnon (Oresteia, #1)
41 " We are the old, dishonoured ones,the broken husks of men.Even then they cast us off,the rescue mission left us hereto prop a child's strength upon a stick.What if the new sap rises in his chest?He has no soldiery in him,no more than we,and we are the aged past ageing,gloss of the leaf shrivelled,three legs at a time we falter on.Old men are children once again,a dream that sways and waversinto the hard light of day. "
― Aeschylus , Agamemnon (Oresteia, #1)
42 " Cry, cry for death, but good win out in glory in the end. "