Of All Creatures That Breathe And Move

And Bear Unmov'd The Wrongs Of Base Mankind, The Last, And Hardest, Conquest Of The Mind.

But You, Achilles,/ There Is Not A Man In The World More Blest Than You--/ There Never Has Been, Never Will Be One./ Time Was, When You Were Alive, We Argives/ Honored You As A God, And Now Down Here, I See/ You Lord It Over The Dead In All Your Power./ So Grieve No More At Dying, Great Achilles.’ I Reassured The Ghost, But He Broke Out Protesting,/ ‘no Winning Words About Death To Me, Shining Odysseus!/ By God, I’d Rather Slave On Earth For Another Man--/ Some Dirt-poor Tenant Farmer Who Scrapes To Keep Alive—than Rule Down Here Over All The Breathless Dead.

Whatever Day Makes Man A Slave, Takes Half His Worth Away.

There Will Be Killing Till The Score Is Paid.

Thou Shalt Not Horn In On Thy Husbands Racket