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"For somehow this is tyranny's disease, to trust no friends."
- Prometheus
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For somehow this is tyranny's disease, to trust no...
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More from Prometheus
When one is wise, it's wisest to seem foolish.
Hear the sum of the whole matter in the compass of one brief word — every art possessed by man comes from Prometheus.
Sorrow with me, Sorrowful one! Tell me, whose voice proclaims Things true and sad, Naming by all their old, unhappy names, What drove me mad--
'Oh, it is easy for the one who stands outside the prison-wall of pain to exhort and teach the one who suffers
Your speech is pompous sounding, full of pride, as fits the lackey of the Gods. You are young and young your rule and you think the tower in which you live is free from sorrow: from it have I not seen two tyrants thrown? The third, who now is king, I shall yet live to see him fall, of all three most suddenly, most dishonored. Do you think I will crouch before your Gods, -so new-and tremble? I am far from that