The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother, and I call him Gamblor!

Sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, unwakeful, most pleasant, the nearest like death.

The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.

And woe succeeds woe.

The stars never lie, but the astrologers lie about the stars.

And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.

All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve.