Related:

• Achilles absent was Achilles still.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 418...
• Forever honour'd, and forever mourn'd.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 422...
• No season now for calm familiar talk.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 169...
• Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 543...
• The bitter dregs of fortune's cup to drain.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 85...
• This, this is misery! the last, the worst That man can feel.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 106...
• Unwept, unhonour'd, uninterr'd he lies!
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 484...
• Ah, youth! forever dear, forever kind.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xix, Line 303...
• Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro In all the raging impotence of woe.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 526...