Greek Tragic Playwright, Last of the Three Great Tragedians of Classical Athens (others being Aeschylus and Sophocles)
Where two discourse, if the one's anger rise, The man who lets the contest fall is wise.
Young man, two are the forces most precious to mankind. The first is Demeter, the Goddess. She is the Earth -- or any name you wish to call her -- and she sustains humanity with solid food. Next came Dionysus, the son of the virgin, bringing the counterpart to bread: wine and the blessings of life's flowing juices. His blood, the blood of the grape, lightens the burden of our mortal misery. Though himself a God, it is his blood we pour out to offer thanks to the Gods. And through him, we are blessed.
To have found you is a dear happiness; and to be Apollo's son is beyond all my hopes; but there is something I want to say to you alone. Come; this is a private matter between us two - anything you tell me shall be as secret as the grave.
We'll see how the sky catches fire. We'll see how she feeds the flames with her implacable hate.
Who knoweth if to die be but to live, and that called life by mortals be but death?