Science sans conscience n' est que le ruine de l'âme. Knowledge without conscience is but the ruine of the soule.

Giving words [is] an act of lovers.

I never drink without a thirst, either present or future.

But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest concern of Villon, the Parisian poet.

Fate leads the willing, and th' unwilling draws.

The deed will be accomplished with the least amount of bloodshed possible, and, if possible ..., we'll save all the souls and send them happily off to their abode.

I drink for the thirst to come.