And here I am using my own lungs like a sucker.
The fates have given mankind a patient soul.
The melancholy joys of evils pass'd, For he who much has suffer'd, much will know.
You can't go wrong with cocktail weenies. They look as good as they taste. And they come in this delicious red sauce. It looks like ketchup, it tastes like ketchup, but brother, it ain't ketchup!
From now on walking is my beer and feeling good is my hangover.
Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born.