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John Quincy Adams

John Quincy Adams


John Quincy Adams was the sixth President of the United States from March 4, 1825 to March 4, 1829. He was also an American diplomat and served in both the Senate and House of Representatives. He was a member of the Federalist, Democratic-Republican, National Republican, and later Anti-Masonic and Whig parties.

During his term as president, however, Adams achieved little of consequence in foreign affairs. A reason for this was the opposition he faced in Congress, where his rivals prevented him from succeeding.

Among the few diplomatic achievements of his administration were treaties of reciprocity with a number of nations, including Denmark, Mexico, the Hanseatic League, the Scandinavian countries, Prussia and Austria. However, thanks to the successes of Adams' diplomacy during his previous eight years as Secretary of State, most of the foreign policy issues he would have faced had been resolved by the time he became President.
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And so the Trojans buried Hector, breaker of horses.
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We who are gods forever have to endure the most horrible hurts, by each other’s hatred, as we try to give favor to mortals.
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Yet if our chief for plunder only fight, The spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite, Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.
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Sit down and hold your tongue as I bid you for if I once begin to lay my hands about you, though all heaven were on your side it would profit you nothing.
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الآلهة لا تكذب يا باريس!
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the reader is hurried out of himself by the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a hearer, in another to a spectator.
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Then in anger divine Aphrodite addressed her: “Do not provoke me, wicked girl, lest I drop you in anger, and hate you as much as I now terribly love you, and devise painful hostilities, and you are caught in the middle of both, Trojans and Danaans, and are destroyed by an evil fate.” So she spoke; and Helen born of Zeus was frightened; and
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We men are wretched things
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No man is going to hurl me to Hades, unless it is fated, but as for fate, I think that no man yet has escaped it once it has taken its first form, neither brave man nor coward.
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their
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Nastes and Amphimachus, the illustrious sons of Nomion - but Nastes, chilldish fool that he was, Went into battle decked out in gold like a girl. But gold could not help him escape a horrible death at the hands of Aeacus' grandson, the swift Achilles, In the bed of the river, and Achilles, fierce ad fiery, Took care of all his gold.
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Zeus in his sphere of power, Aphrodite in hers, are irresistible. To be a god is to be totally absorbed in the exercise of one's own power, the fulfillment of one's own nature, unchecked by any thought of others except as obstacles to be overcome; it is to be incapable of self questioning or self-criticism. But there are human beings who are like this. Preeminent in their particular sphere of power, they impose their will on others with the confidence, the unquestioning certainty of their own right and worth that is characteristic of gods. Such people the Greeks called "heroes"; they recognized the fact that they transcended the norms of humanity by according them worship at their tombs after death. Heroes might be, usually were, violent, antisocial, destructive, but they offered an assurance that in some chosen vessels humanity is capable of superhuman greatness, that there are some human beings who can deny the imperative which others obey in order to live. The heroes are godlike in their passionate self-esteem. But they are not gods, not immortal. They are subject, like the rest of us, to failure, above all to the irremediable failure of death. And sooner or later, in suffering, in disaster, they come to realize their limits, accept mortality and establish (or reestablish) a human relationship with their fellowmen.
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Achilleus started awake, staring,        and drove his hands together, and spoke, and his words were sorrowful:        “Oh, wonder! Even in the house of Hades there is left something,        a soul and an image, but there is no real heart of life in it.
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As the youth came on in front of the others, he got the bronze in his chest beside the right nipple. On through his shoulder it went and he fell to earth in the dust like a sooth black poplar whose branchy top falls in the low grassland of a mighty marsh to the gleaming ax of some chariot-maker, who leaves t to dry by the banks of a river that he may bend him a rim for a beautiful chariot. Even such was the fall of Anthemion's son Simoeisius
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And now to one side Gorgythion drooped his head and heavy helmet; He let it fall over like the bloom of a garden poppy, heavy with seed and the rains of spring.
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With that the dream departed, leaving him there, his heart racing with hopes that would not come to pass. He thought he would take the city of Priam then, that very day, the fool.
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Limping, attendants rushed up to support him, Attendants made of gold who looked like real girls, With a mind within, and a voice, and strength, And knowledge of crafts from the immortal gods. These busily moved to support their lord...
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but these lay dead on the ground, far dearer now to the vultures than to their wives.
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Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish.
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This is the last of earth! I am content.
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