>Aeschylus has no bounds.
>He is rough, abrupt, excessive, incapable of gentle slopes, almost ferocious, with a grace all his own that resembles the flowers of wild places, haunted less by nymphs than by the Eumenides, of the Titans' party, among the goddesses choosing the dark ones, and smiling sinisterly at the Gorgons, sons of the earth like Othryx and Briareus, and ready to resume the climb against the upstart Jupiter.
>Aeschylus is the ancient mystery made flesh; something like a pagan prophet. His work, if we had it all, would be a kind of Greek Bible.