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 Blest are those whose days have not tasted of evil. For when a house has once been shaken by the gods,  no form of ruin is lacking, but it spreads over the bulk of the race, just as, when the surge is driven over the darkness of the deep by the fierce breath of Thracian sea-winds,  it rolls up the black sand from the depths, and the wind-beaten headlands that front the blows of the storm give out a mournful roar.
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