The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man, and give some back.
Don't I yearn for the days when a draw across the throat made f**king resolution.
The obvious merits utterance. Character is f**king pertinent.
Yeah, the cut throats and the pigs. But who wants all that blood spilled, judge, huh? Isn't there a simpler way of not pissing off the big vipers?
The question is: until reinforced, can we learn the ways of church mice.
Act averse to nasty language and partial to fruity tea.