[12,69] ὥστε οὐκ ἦν αὐτῷ ἀπορία φοβερῶν ὀνομάτων καὶ ἡδέων, ἔτι δὲ λείων καὶ τραχέων καὶ μυρίας ἄλλας ἐχόντων διαφορὰς ἔν τε τοῖς ἤχοις καὶ τοῖς διανοήμασιν. ὑφ´ ἧς ἐποποιίας δυνατὸς ἦν ὁποῖον ἐβούλετο ἐμποιῆσαι τῇ ψυχῇ πάθος. τὸ δὲ ἡμέτερον αὖ γένος, τὸ χειρωνακτικὸν καὶ δημιουργικόν, οὐδαμῇ ἐφικνεῖται τῆς τοιαύτης ἐλευθερίας, ἀλλὰ πρῶτον μὲν ὕλης προσδεόμεθα, ἀσφαλοῦς μὲν ὥστε διαμεῖναι, πολὺν δὲ ἐχούσης κάματον πορισθῆναί τε οὐ ῥᾳδίας, ἔτι δὲ οὐκ ὀλίγων συνεργῶν.

[12,69] Consequently he had no lack of fear-inspiring names for things and of pleasant ones, and also of smooth and rough ones, as well as of those which have countless other differences in both their sounds and their meanings. As a result of this epic art of his he was able to implant in the soul any emotion he wished. "But our art, on the other hand, that which is dependent on the workman's hand and the artist's creative touch, by no means attains to such freedom; but first we need a material substance, a material so tough that it will last, yet can be worked without much difficulty and consequently not easy to procure ; we need, too, no small number of assistants.

[12,70] πρὸς δὲ αὖ τούτοις ἓν σχῆμα ἑκάστης εἰκόνος ἀνάγκη ἐργάσασθαι, καὶ τοῦτο ἀκίνητον καὶ μένον, ὥστε τὴν πᾶσαν ἐν αὑτῷ τοῦ θεοῦ ξυλλαβεῖν φύσιν καὶ δύναμιν. τοῖς δὲ ποιηταῖς πολλάς τινας μορφὰς καὶ παντοδαπὰ εἴδη περιλαβεῖν τῇ ποιήσει ῥᾴδιον, κινήσεις τε καὶ ἡσυχίας προστιθέντας αὐτοῖς, ὅπως ἂν ἑκάστοτε πρέπειν ἡγῶνται, καὶ ἔργα καὶ λόγους, καὶ προσέτι οἶμαι τὸ τῆς ἀπάτης καὶ {τὸ} τοῦ χρόνου. μιᾷ γὰρ ἐπινοίᾳ καὶ ὁρμῇ τῆς ψυχῆς ἐνεχθεὶς ὁ ποιητὴς πολύ τι πλῆθος ἐπῶν ἤρυσεν, ὥσπερ ἐκ πηγῆς ὕδατος ὑπερβλύσαντος, πρὶν ἐπιλιπεῖν αὐτὸν καὶ διαρρυῆναι τὸ φάντασμα καὶ τὴν ἐπίνοιαν ἣν ἔλαβε. τὸ δέ γε ἡμέτερον τῆς τέχνης ἐπίπονον καὶ βραδύ, μόλις καὶ κατ´ ὀλίγον προβαῖνον, ἅτε οἶμαι πετρώδει καὶ στερεᾷ κάμνον ὕλῃ.

[12,70] And then, in addition, the sculptor must have worked out for himself a design that shows each subject in one single posture, and that too a posture that admits of no movement and is unalterable, so perfected that it will comprise within itself the whole of the god's nature and power. But for the poets it is perfectly easy to include very many shapes and all sorts of attitudes in their poetry, adding movements and periods of rest to them according to what they consider fitting at any given time, and actions and spoken words, and they have, I imagine, an additional advantage in the matter of difficulty and that of time. For the poet when moved by one single conception and one single impulse of his soul draws forth an immense volume of verses, as if from a gushing spring of water, before the vision and the conception he had grasped can leave him and flow away. But of our art the execution is laborious and slow, advancing with difficulty a step at a time, the reason being, no doubt, that it must work with a rock-like and hard material.