Do thou restrain the haughty spirit in thy breast, for better far is gentle courtesy.

If it doesn't have siamese twins in a jar, it is not a fair.

But he whose inborn worth his acts commend, Of gentle soul, to human race a friend.

The lot of man-to suffer and die.

We're goin bowling. If we don't come back, avenge our deaths.

We men are wretched things.

Evil deeds do not prosper; the slow man catches up with the swift.