There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
HomerRead
Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the importance of honesty and authenticity in communication.
In this quote, Homer expresses a disdain for those who are duplicitous, suggesting that there is great moral and ethical horror in concealing true intentions or feelings while expressing something entirely different. The imagery of hell underlines the severity of such deceit, indicating that being dishonest or insincere is akin to a personal betrayal of trust.
In practice
During a team meeting, one might use this quote to encourage open and honest dialogue among team members.
There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.
For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain,_x000D_ _x000D_ And twins ev'n from the birth are Misery and Man!
Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.
Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.
[I]t is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to sing at the top of his lungs, laugh like a fool β it drives the man to dancing... it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.
We have bodies. We have personalities. We have histories, stories and experiences. But we are not those things - we are Spirit.
The past stays put, I just keep moving farther away from it.
The problem with introspection is that it has no end.
A region is an area safely larger than the last one to whose problems we found no solution.
This is Port of Spain to me, a city ideal in its commercial and human proportions, where a citizen is a walker and not a pedestrian, and this is how Athens may have been before it became a cultural echo.
Every morning our newspapers could read, 'More than 20,000 people perished yesterday of extreme poverty.' How? The poor die in hospital wards that lack drugs, in villages that lack antimalarial bed nets, in houses that lack safe drinking water. They die namelessly, without public comment. Sadly, sad stories rarely get written.
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