'Yea and I beheld Sisyphus in strong torment, grasping a monstrous stone with both his hands. He was pressing thereat with hands and feet, and trying to roll the stone upward toward the brow of the hill. But oft as he was about to hurl it over the top, the weight would drive him back, so once again to the plain rolled the stone, the shameless thing. And he once more kept heaving and straining, and the sweat the while was pouring down his limbs, and the dust rose upwards from his head.

Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.

I've always wondered if there was a God. And now I know there is -- and it's me.

The God of War will see fair play-he's often slain that wants to slay!

Once you go Vatican, you never go back again.

First you don't want me to get the pony, then you want me to take it back. Make up your mind!

For I am yearning to visit the limits of the all-nurturing Earth, and Oceans, from whom the gods are sprung.