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John Quincy Adams
And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.
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John Quincy Adams
So the immortals spun our lives that we, we wretched men live on to bear such torments - the gods live free of sorrows. -Achilles to Priam
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