You Know Those Balls That They Put

Few Sons Are Equal To Their Fathers; Most Fall Short, All Too Few Surpass Them.

Ah, Beer, My One Weakness. My Achille's Heel, If You Will.

There Is Nothing More Dread And More Shameless Than A Woman Who Plans Such Deeds In Her Heart As The Foul Deed Which She Plotted When She Contrived Her Husband's Murder.

Sleep And Death, Who Are Twin Brothers.

Miserable Mortals Who Like Leaves At One Moment Flame With Life Eating The Produce Of The Land And At Another Moment Weakly Perish.