Being eaten by a crocodile is just like going to sleep...in a giant blender.
Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods, magnificent, which they give of their own will, no man could have them for wanting them.
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end.
If it doesn't have siamese twins in a jar, it is not a fair.
I would rather be a serf in a poor man's house and be above ground than reign among the dead.
...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.