Oh where is the noble face of modesty, or the strength of virtue, now that blasphemy is in power and men have put justice behind them, and there is no law but lawlessness, and none join in fear of the gods?

The hounds snap fierce at your heels. Turn toward Athens. I hear them pelting hard on you, I see black flesh and snake-hands coiling round a fruit of agonizing pain.

Bear witness for one who is loved and not loved: we cast the cloak gently around her, an end of great woe for our house.

No one who goes against her can win.

We would have to think the gods had no minds, to pray for murderers.

Do we, holding that the gods exist, deceive ourselves with insubstantial dreams and lies, while random careless chance and change alone control the world?

If the gods do a shameful thing, they are not gods.

The wisest men follow their own directionAnd listen to no prophet guiding them.None but the fools believe in oracles,Forsaking their own judgment.