Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, and falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.
-- Sohrab, Sohrab and Rustum
Sohrab and Rustum is an epic poem. I can't remember who it's by, but if you can take the extended similes and ornate language, it's a great read. I read it in 10th grade for world literature, and this quote, which I had written down somewhere because I liked it so much, came to my mind since Elaine read Sohrab and Rustum here recently. She, of course, hated it. (There are such profound differences in our respective literary, aesthetical, and musical tastes.)
At any rate, I loved Sohrab in it (I even named one of my own characters after him, but that's a completely different story), and I liked his personality, one of my main reasons being this very quote. I don't like lies, and I don't like liars. I'm not even very good at offering meaningless platitudes in place of lies. However, lest I go on a long philosophical rant, I shall cut it short here.
In Pace Christi,